Then come the Phrygian fellows forth; comes forth Iulus glad; 140 Yea and Æneas' very self is of their fellowship, And joins their band: in goodliness all those did he outstrip: E'en such as when Apollo leaves the wintry Lycian shore, And Xanthus' stream, and Delos sees, his mother's isle once more; And halloweth in the dance anew, while round the altars shout The Cretans and the Dryopes, and painted Scythian rout: He steps it o'er the Cynthus' ridge, and leafy crown to hold His flowing tresses doth he weave, and intertwines the gold, And on his shoulders clang the shafts. Nor duller now passed on Æneas, from his noble face such wondrous glory shone. 150 So come they to the mountain-side and pathless deer-fed ground, And lo, from hill-tops driven adown, how swift the wild goats bound Along the ridges: otherwhere across the open lea Run hart and hind, and gathering up their hornèd host to flee, Amid a whirling cloud of dust they leave the mountain-sides. But here the boy Ascanius the midmost valley rides, And glad, swift-horsed, now these he leaves, now those he flees before, And fain were he mid deedless herds to meet a foaming boar, Or see some yellow lion come the mountain-slopes adown. 159 Meanwhile with mighty murmuring sound confused the heavens are grown, And thereupon the drift of rain and hail upon them broke; Therewith the scattered Trojan youth, the Tyrian fellow-folk, The son of Venus' Dardan son, scared through the meadows fly To diverse shelter, while the streams rush from the mountains high. Then Dido and the Trojan lord meet in the self-same cave; Then Earth, first-born of everything, and wedding Juno gave The token; then the wildfires flashed, and air beheld them wed, And o'er their bridal wailed the nymphs in hill-tops overhead. That day began the tide of death; that day the evil came; No more she heedeth eyes of men; no more she heedeth fame; 170 No more hath Dido any thought a stolen love to win, But calls it wedlock: yea, e'en so she weaveth up the sin.