ither
before the gale. What a city wilt thou discern here, O sister! what a
realm will rise on such a union! the arms of Troy ranged with ours, what
glory will exalt the Punic state! Do thou only, asking divine favour
with peace-offerings, be bounteous in welcome and draw out reasons for
delay, while the storm rages at sea and Orion is wet, and his ships are
shattered and the sky unvoyageable.' With these words she made the fire
of love flame up in her spirit, put hope in her wavering soul, and let
honour slip away.

[56-90]First they visit the shrines, and desire grace from altar to
altar; they sacrifice sheep fitly chosen to Ceres the Lawgiver, to
Phoebus and lord Lyaeus, to Juno before all, guardian of the marriage
bond. Dido herself, excellent in beauty, holds the cup in her hand, and
pours libation between the horns of a milk-white cow, or moves in state
to the rich altars before the gods' presences, day by day renewing her
gifts, and gazing athirst into the breasts of cattle laid open to take
counsel from the throbbing entrails. Ah, witless souls of soothsayers!
how may vows or shrines help her madness? all the while the subtle flame
consumes her inly, and deep in her breast the wound is silent and alive.
Stung to misery, Dido wanders in frenzy all down the city, even as an
arrow-stricken deer, whom, far and heedless amid the Cretan woodland, a
shepherd archer hath pierced and left the flying steel in her unaware;
she ranges in flight the Dictaean forest lawns; fast in her side clings
the deadly reed. Now she leads Aeneas with her through the town, and
displays her Sidonian treasure and ordered city; she essays to speak,
and breaks off half-way in utterance. Now, as day wanes, she seeks the
repeated banquet, and again madly pleads to hear the agonies of Ilium,
and again hangs on the teller's lips. Thereafter, when all are gone
their ways, and the dim moon in turn quenches her light, and the setting
stars counsel to sleep, alone in the empty house she mourns, and flings
herself on the couch he left: distant she hears and sees him in the
distance; or enthralled by the look he has of his father, she holds
Ascanius on her lap, if so she may steal the love she may not utter. No
more do the unfinished towers rise, no more do the people exercise in
arms, nor work for safety in war on harbour or bastion; the works hang
broken off, vast looming walls and engines towering into the sky.

So soon as she perceives her thus fa