Who with the gleam of thready gold the purple web did shift. Then brake the God on him: "Forsooth, tall Carthage wilt thou found, O lover, and a city fair raise up from out the ground? Woe's me! thy lordship and thy deeds hast thou forgotten quite? The very ruler of the Gods down from Olympus bright Hath sent me, he whose majesty the earth and heavens obey; This was the word he bade me bear adown the windy way. 270 What dost thou? hoping for what hope in Libya dost thou wear Thy days? if glorious fated things thine own soul may not stir, And heart thou lackest for thy fame the coming toil to wed, Think on Ascanius' dawn of days and hope inherited, To whom is due the Italian realm and all the world of Rome!" But when from out Cyllenius' mouth such word as this had come, Amidst his speech he left the sight of men that die from day, And mid thin air from eyes of folk he faded far away. But sore the sight Æneas feared, and wit from out him drave; His hair stood up, amidst his jaws the voice within him clave. 280 Bewildered by that warning word, and by that God's command, He yearneth to depart and flee, and leave the lovely land. Ah, what to do? and with what word may he be bold to win Peace of the Queen all mad with love? what wise shall he begin? Hither and thither now he sends his mind all eager-swift, And bears it diversely away and runs o'er every shift: At last, as many things he weighed, this seemed the better rede. Mnestheus, Sergestus, straight he calls, Sergestus stout at need, And bids them dight ship silently and bring their folk to shore, And dight their gear, and cause thereof with lying cover o'er; 290 While he himself, since of all this kind Dido knoweth nought, Nor of the ending of such love may ever have a thought, Will seek to draw anigh the Queen, seek time wherein the word May softliest be said to her, the matter lightliest stirred. So all they glad his bidding do, and get them to the work. But who may hoodwink loving eyes? She felt the treason lurk About her life, and from the first saw all that was to be; Fearing indeed where no fear was. That Rumour wickedly Told her wild soul of ship-host armed and ready to set out; The heart died in her; all aflame she raves the town about, 300 E'en as a Thyad, who, soul-smit by holy turmoil, hears The voice of Bacchus on the day that crowns the triple years, And mirk Cithæron through the night hath called her clamorous.