Midst whom Phoenician Dido now, fresh from the iron bane, 450 Went wandering in the mighty wood: and when the Trojan man First dimly knew her standing by amid the glimmer wan --E'en as in earliest of the month one sees the moon arise, Or seems to see her at the least in cloudy drift of skies-- He spake, and let the tears fall down by all love's sweetness stirred: "Unhappy Dido, was it true, that bitter following word, That thou wert dead, by sword hadst sought the utter end of all? Was it thy very death I wrought? Ah! on the stars I call, I call the Gods and whatso faith the nether earth may hold, To witness that against my will I left thy field and fold! 460 But that same bidding of the Gods, whereby e'en now I wend Through dark, through deserts rusty-rough, through night without an end, Drave me with doom. Nor held my heart in anywise belief That my departure from thy land might work thee such a grief. O stay thy feet! nor tear thyself from my beholding thus. Whom fleest thou? this word is all that Fate shall give to us." Such were the words Æneas spake to soothe her as she stood With stern eyes flaming, while his heart swelled with the woeful flood: But, turned away, her sick eyes still she fixed upon the earth; Nor was her face moved any more by all his sad words' birth 470 Than if Marpesian crag or flint had held her image so: At last she flung herself away, and fled, his utter foe, Unto the shady wood, where he, her husband of old days, Gives grief for grief, and loving heart beside her loving lays. Nor less Æneas, smitten sore by her unworthy woes, With tears and pity followeth her as far away she goes. But thence the meted way they wear, and reach the outer field, Where dwell apart renownèd men, the mighty under shield: There Tydeus meets him; there he sees the great fight-glorious man, Parthenopæus; there withal Adrastus' image wan; 480 And there the Dardans battle-slain, for whom the wailing went To very heaven: their long array he saw with sad lament: Glaucus and Medon there he saw, Thersilochus, the three Antenor-sons, and Polyphoete, by Ceres' mystery Made holy, and Idæus still in car with armèd hand: There on the right side and the left the straying spirits stand. Nor is one sight of him enough; it joyeth them to stay And pace beside, asking for why he wendeth such a way. But when the lords of Danaan folk, and Agamemnon's hosts, Behold the man and gleaming arms amid the dusky ghosts, 490 They fall a-quaking full of fear: some turn their back to fly As erst they ran unto the ships; some raise a quavering cry, But never from their gaping vain will swell the shout begun.