with an hundred fetters of
brass, shall sit within, shrieking with terrible blood-stained lips.'

So speaking, he sends Maia's son down from above, that the land and
towers of Carthage, the new town, may receive the Trojans with open
welcome; lest Dido, ignorant of doom, might debar them her land. Flying
through the depth of air on winged oarage, the fleet messenger alights
on the Libyan coasts. At once he does his bidding; at once, for a god
willed it, the Phoenicians allay their haughty temper; the queen above
all takes to herself grace and compassion towards the Teucrians.

But good Aeneas, nightlong revolving many and many a thing, issues
forth, so soon as bountiful light is given, to explore the strange
country; to what coasts the wind has borne him, who are their habitants,
men or wild beasts, for all he sees is wilderness; this he resolves to
search, and bring back the certainty to his comrades. The fleet he hides
close in embosoming groves beneath a caverned rock, amid shivering
shadow of the woodland; himself, Achates alone following, he strides
forward, clenching in his hand two broad-headed spears. And amid the
forest his mother crossed his way, wearing the face and raiment of a
maiden, the arms of a maiden of Sparta, or like Harpalyce of Thrace when
she tires her coursers and outstrips the winged speed of Hebrus in her
flight. For huntress fashion had she slung the ready bow from her
shoulder, and left her blown tresses free, bared her knee, and knotted
together her garments' flowing folds. 'Ha! my men,' she begins, 'shew me
if [322-355]haply you have seen a sister of mine straying here girt
with quiver and a lynx's dappled fell, or pressing with shouts on the
track of a foaming boar.'

Thus Venus, and Venus' son answering thus began:

'Sound nor sight have I had of sister of thine, O maiden unnamed; for
thy face is not mortal, nor thy voice of human tone; O goddess
assuredly! sister of Phoebus perchance, or one of the nymphs' blood?
Be thou gracious, whoso thou art, and lighten this toil of ours; deign
to instruct us beneath what skies, on what coast of the world, we are
thrown. Driven hither by wind and desolate waves, we wander in a strange
land among unknown men. Many a sacrifice shall fall by our hand before
thine altars.'

Then Venus: 'Nay, to no such offerings do I aspire. Tyrian maidens are
wont ever to wear the quiver, to tie the purple buskin high above their
ankle. Punic is the realm thou see