Arma virumque cano, Troiæ qui primus ab oris Italiam, fato profugus, Lavinaque venit Litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto Vi superum, sævæ memorem Iunonis ob iram, Multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem, Inferretque deos Latio: genus unde Latinum Albanique patres atque altæ mœnia Romæ. Musa, mihi causas memora, quo numine læso, Quidve dolens, regina deum tot volvere casus Insignem pietate virum, tot adire labores Impulerit. Tantæne animis cælestibus iræ? ACT I Dido—The Phœnician Queen ACT I. SCENE 1 [Illustration] Early morning; the open square before the temple of Juno on a height near Carthage. In the distance (see cut, 1, 2, 3) appear mountains, and at their foot lies the city, clustered about the harbor where ships are riding at anchor. The effect of elevation is increased by the unfinished columns and the tree-tops just showing above the low marble wall which encloses the square. This scene (4) is set nearer than 1, 2, 3, to increase the perspective. At the first wing on the right (5), a colonnade, leading to a flight of steps, forms the entrance from the city below. On the same side, along the wall, is a broad marble seat (6), shaded by a wild crab tree, pink with bloom. The dark rug on the step before it is strewn with fallen petals. On the left is the front of the temple (7). Two large columns of white marble flank three broad steps leading to the platform. Above these columns, the architrave bears a frieze representing scenes from the Trojan war. Before the temple door is an altar on which fire is burning. At the rise of the curtain, a chorus of Carthaginian maidens, clad in white, are seen kneeling before the altar on the temple steps; they sing a greeting to the dawn. _Hymn to the Dawn_ [For music, see p. 61] Wake, Aurora, Wake! Come, rosy-fingered goddess of the dawn, The saffron couch of old Tithonus scorning; Fling wide the golden portals of the morning, And bid the gloomy mists of night be gone. Hail, Aurora, Hail! The dewy stars have sped their silent flight, The fuller glories of thy rays expecting; With rosy beauty from afar reflecting, Thy Orient steeds come panting into sight. Rise, Apollo, Rise! Send forth thy healing rays to greet the world, Upon the lands thy blessed radiance streaming; Arise, and fling afar, in splendor gleaming, The banners of thy golden light unfurled.