Dido is pacing the room with fierce energy. She goes to the window from time to time, then renews her fierce walking to and fro. Suddenly she presses her hand to her head as if a new thought had come to her. Her face assumes an expression of cunning. She picks up a golden goblet, and with a gesture to the old woman sends her to fill it.
When Barce has gone, Dido stealthily but quickly takes Æneas’ sword from the wall, and, seating herself, with trembling fingers draws it from its scabbard. She feels the edge, shrinking in terror at the thought of her intended suicide. With a shudder, she presses the cold blade against her neck.
As she is thus meditating, her sister is heard coming. Dido quickly conceals the sword beneath the draperies of the couch. She assumes an air of gayety, kissing her sister and drawing her to a seat.
Dido (478-498):
I’ve found a way, my sister—give me joy—to bring
Him back to me, or free me from the love of him.
Hard by the confines of the Ocean in the west
The Æthiop country lies, where mighty Atlas holds
Upon his giant shoulders heaven’s vault, all set
With stars. There dwells a priestess skilled in magic art,