While from the city shoreward rush the fleeing men.
The shouts of the sailors are heard. Dido groans. Anna, hastily putting aside her work, goes to her sister, whose face is buried in her hands. Barce takes up the spinning, stopping at times to wipe her eyes.
Dido, lifting her face to her sister (416-418):
Thou seest, Anna, how they haste from every side,
And how the bustle of departure fills the shore.
The vessels float, the swelling sails salute the breeze,
And now the sailors crown the sterns with festive wreaths!
She gives way to her tears.
Anna, caressing her sister:
Alas, my sister, for thy sighs and grieving tears,