Carrying divine repose and sweetness to its core.
[Selected from Tasso]
They quietly withdraw. Dido is convulsed with weeping.
Dido (529-532; 534-552):
But not for me, unhappy one, this night’s sweet calm;
My cares redouble and o’erwhelm me with their flood.
She leaves the window and paces the room.
Ah me, what shall I do? My former suitors seek
And be again rejected? Shall I humbly court
Numidia’s lords whose suit I have so often scorned?