"That, Virgil has to answer for," said Ekkehard. "History no doubt bequeathed the facts to him."
"Then, the present generation of women is somewhat stronger-minded," said the Duchess, making a sign to him to continue. She was almost offended with Virgil's description. Perhaps because she was reminded of certain Didonian feelings which she had experienced herself, one day. Things had not always been, as they now were.
And he read on, how Anna advises her sister not to struggle any longer against her growing passion; and how,--though peace and rest might be implored for, by sacrifices on the altars of the mighty Gods,--the relentless, devouring flame was yet burning on inwardly, and the wound did not heal.
And again the poor deluded queen, desires to hear of the battles round Ilium, and:
"When she was left then alone, and the rays of the queen of the heavens,
Fell on her desolate couch, and the stars were silently shining,
Seeming to mock at her grief, which, excluding the pain-stilling slumber,
Kept her awake at night, when she thought of him, her beloved.
Many a time, to delude her heart, and stifle its longings
She would fondle the boy, the image of him, of Æneas."
A low giggle here interrupted the reading. The cloister-pupil, sitting at the Duchess's feet, so as almost to touch her wavy robes, had listened attentively until now, when he struggled in vain to stifle a rising laugh, which at last broke out, though he had covered up his face with his hands to keep it back.
"What is the matter now, young verse-maker?" asked the Duchess.
"I could not help thinking," said the boy with some embarrassment, "that if my gracious mistress were the queen Dido, I should have been acting the part of Ascanius, when you deigned to kiss and caress me."
The Duchess looked down sharply at the boy. "Art thou inclined to be naughty? Well 'tis no wonder," added she, pointing at his curls, "for the precocious youth has already got grey hairs on his head."
... "That is from the night when they slew Romeias," the cloister-pupil wanted to say, but could not, as the Duchess sharply continued: "That comes from thy forwardness, which makes thee say foolish things, when thou hadst better be silent. Get up little man!"