A grove there was in the heart of the city, most plenteous of shade—the spot where first, fresh from the buffeting of wave and wind, the Punic race dug up the token which queenly Juno had bidden them expect, the head of a fiery 15 steed—for even thus, said she, the nation should be renowned in war and rich in sustenance for a life of centuries. Here Dido, Sidon’s[96] daughter, was building a vast temple to Juno, rich in offerings and in the goddess’s especial presence; of brass was the threshold with its rising steps, 20 clamped with brass the door-posts, the hinge creaked on a door of brass. In this grove it was that first a new object appeared, as before, to soothe away fear: here it was that Æneas first dared to hope that all was safe, and to place a better trust in his shattered fortunes. For while his eye 25 ranges over each part under the temple’s massy roof, as he waits there for the queen—while he is marvelling at the city’s prosperous star, the various artist-hands vying with each other, their tasks and the toil they cost, he beholds, scene after scene, the battles of Ilion, and the 30 war that Fame had already blazed the whole world over—Atreus’[o] sons, and Priam, and the enemy of both, Achilles. He stopped short, and breaking into tears, “What place is there left?” he cries, “Achates, what clime on earth that is not full of our sad story? See there 35 Priam. Here, too, worth finds its due reward; here, too, there are tears[97] for human fortune, and hearts that are touched by mortality. Be free from fear: this renown of ours will bring you some measure of safety.” So speaking, he feeds his soul on the empty portraiture, with many a sigh, and lets copious rivers run down his cheeks. For he still saw how, as they battled round Pergamus,[98] here the Greeks were flying, the Trojan youth in hot pursuit; 5 here the Phrygians, at their heels in his car Achilles, with that dreadful crest. Not far from this he recognizes with tears the snowy canvas of Rhesus’ tent, which, all surprised in its first sleep, Tydeus’ son was devastating with wide carnage, himself bathed in blood—see! he drives off 10 the fiery steeds to his own camp, ere they have had time to taste the pastures of Troy or drink of Xanthus.[99] There in another part is Troilus[100] in flight, his arms fallen from him—unhappy boy, confronted with Achilles in unequal combat—hurried away by his horses, and hanging half 15 out of the empty car, with his head thrown back, but the reins still in his hand; his neck and his hair are being trailed along the ground, and his inverted spear is drawing lines in the dust. Meanwhile to the temple of Pallas,[101] not their friend, were moving the Trojan dames with locks 20 dishevelled, carrying the sacred robe, in suppliant guise