And if, loved father of the Teucri, thou art held By Libya’s billows and no more we may upon Iulus rest our hopes, then let us seek the land And homes reserved for us, whence, setting sail, we came To these thy hostile shores, and make Acestes king. Shouts of applause from the Trojans. _Dido_, with modest bearing (562-578): Let not a fear disturb your souls, O Teucrians; Away with all your cares. My cruel fortune and My yet unstable throne compel me thus to guard My bounds with wide and jealous watch. Who knows not well Æneas and his race, their city Troy, their brave, Heroic deeds? Who has not seen the far-off flames Of their great war? We carry not such brutish hearts Within our breasts, nor yet does Phœbus yoke his steeds So far from this our land. Seek you the mighty west, The land of Saturn’s reign, or where your foster-king, Acestes, rules within Sicilia’s borders? Lo, In safety will I send you forth and gird you with My aid. Or would you share with me this realm? Behold, The city which I build is yours. Draw up your ships. To Trojan and to Tyrian will I favor show In equal measure. Would that your Æneas’ self, Conducted by the same o’er-mastering gale, were here! My messengers along the shore will I despatch, And bid them search the farthest bounds of Libya, If he in wood or city, rescued from the waves, May chance to stray. She despatches courtiers to seek Æneas. Æneas and Achates, meantime, are greatly agitated by her words. _Achates_, to Æneas, aside (582-585): Æneas, what thy purpose now? Thou seest all is well. Thy fleet and captains all, Save one, are rescued. One we saw ourselves o’erwhelmed Within the deep. All else thy mother’s prophecy Upholds. At this, Æneas suddenly reveals himself, to the great surprise of both Trojans and Carthaginians. _Æneas_, to Dido (595-609): O Queen, before thee, whom thou wouldst behold, am I, Æneas, Prince of Troy, late rescued from the waves Of Libya. O thou, who only o’er the woes, The dreadful woes of Troy hast wept, who to thy town And home dost welcome us, the leavings of the Greeks, Who every peril of the land and sea have faced, And lost our all: we may not thank thee worthily, O Queen, nor yet the Trojan race, what remnant still In distant lands in exile wanders. May the gods A fitting gift bestow upon thee; if indeed They feel a true regard for pious souls, if e’er The truth and conscious virtue aught avail. But thee— What blessed age, what mighty parents gave thee birth? Whate’er my fate, while to the sea the rivers flow, While o’er the mountains’ rounded sides the shadows drift, While on the plains of heav’n the stars shall feed, so long Thine honor and thy name and praises shall abide. The queen is silent with amazement, while Æneas greets his friends amid general rejoicing. _Dido_, recovering from her astonishment (615-630):