Or hide him in my sacred fane on Ida’s top,
Lest he should know what we intend, and thwart our plans.
Do thou, if only for a night, assume the form
Of young Ascanius, that, when the queen with joy
To her embrace shall take thee, when amid the wine
And feasting she shall hold thee in her arms and kiss
Thy lips, thou mayst inflame her unsuspecting heart
With the subtle fires of love.
As she unfolds her plan, Cupid is filled with delight. He struts up and down, comically imitating Ascanius. When his mother has finished, he hastens to pick up his scattered arrows, puts them in his quiver, and struts off, looking back for his mother’s smile of approval. Curtain.