XXXIII. Poised on his wings, here first [Cyllenius] stood,
Then downward shot, and in the salt sea spray
Dipped like a sea-gull, who, in quest of food,
Searches the teeming shore-cliffs for his prey,
And scours the rocks and skims along the bay.
So swiftly now, between the earth and skies,
Leaving his mother's sire, his airy way
[Cyllene's] god on cleaving pinions plies,		289
As o'er the Libyan sands along the wind he flies.

XXXIV. Scarce now at Carthage had he stayed his feet,
Among the huts Æneas he espied,
Planning new towers and many a stately street.
A sword-hilt, starred with jasper, graced his side,
A scarf, gold-broidered by the queen, and dyed
With Tyrian hues, was o'er his shoulders thrown.
"What, thou—wilt thou build Carthage?" Hermes cried,
"And stay to beautify thy lady's town,		298
And dote on Tyrian realms, and disregard thine own?
XXXV. "Himself, the Sire, who rules the earth and skies,
Sends me from heaven his mandate to proclaim.
What scheme is thine? what hope allures thine eyes,
To loiter thus in Libya? If such fame
Nowise can move thee, nor thy soul inflame,
If loth to labour for thine own renown,
Think of thy young Ascanius; see with shame
His rising promise, scarce to manhood grown,		307
Hope of the Roman race, and heir of Latium's throne."
XXXVI. He spake and, speaking, vanished into air.
Dumb stood Æneas, by the sight unmann'd:
Fear stifled speech and stiffened all his hair.
Fain would he fly, and quit the tempting land,
Surprised and startled by the god's command.
Ah! what to do? what opening can he find
To break the news, the infuriate Queen withstand?
This way and that dividing his swift mind,		316
All means in turns he tries, and wavers like the wind.
XXXVII. This plan prevails; he bids a chosen few
Collect the crews in silence, arm the fleet
And hide the purport of these counsels new,
Himself, since Dido dreams not of deceit,
Nor thinks such passion can be frail or fleet,
Some avenue of access will essay,
Some tender moment for soft speeches meet,
And wit shall find, and cunning smooth the way.		325
With joy the captains hear, and hasten to obey.

XXXVIII. But Dido—who can cheat a lover's care?
Could guess the fraud, the coming change descry,
And in the midst of safety feared a snare.
Now wicked Fame hath bid the rumour fly
Of mustering crews. Poor Dido, crazed thereby,
Raves like a Thyiad, when the frenzied rout
With orgies hurry to [Cithæron] high,
And "Bacchus! Bacchus" through the night they shout.		334
At length the chief she finds, and thus her wrath breaks out:

XXXIX. "Thought'st thou to steal in silence from the land,
False wretch! and cloak such treason with a lie?
Can neither love, nor this my plighted hand,
Nor dying Dido keep thee? Must thou fly,
When North-winds howl, and wintry waves are high?
O cruel! what if home before thee lay,
Not lands unknown, beneath an alien sky,
If Troy were standing, as in ancient day,		343
Would'st thou for Troy's own sake this angry deep essay?