Lovely Aeneas, these are
Carthage
walles,
And here Queene Dido weares th'imperiall Crowne,
Who for Troyes sake hath entertaind us all,
And clad us in these wealthie robes we weare.
Oft hath she askt us under whom we serv'd,
And when we told her she would weepe for griefe,
Thinking the sea had swallowed up thy ships,
And now she sees thee how will she rejoyce?
