hair dishevelled, thunders out the roll of three hundred
gods, Erebus and Chaos, and Hecate[180] with her triple form—the
three faces borne by maiden Dian. See! she has 30
sprinkled water, brought, so she feigns, from Avernus’
spring, and she is getting green downy herbs, cropped by
moonlight with brazen shears, whose sap is the milk of
deadly poison, and the love-charm, torn from the brow
of the new-born foal, ere the mother could snatch it. 35
Dido herself, with salted cake and pure hands at the altars,
one foot unshod, her vest ungirdled, makes her dying