Then from the sea the dawning 'gan arise.
The sun hoist up, the chosen youth 'gan throng
Unto the gates; the hayes so rarely knit,
The hunting-staves with their broad heads of iron,
And of Massile the horsemen, forth they break;
Of scenting hounds a kennel huge likewise.
And at the threshold of her chamber door
The Carthage lords did on their queen await;
The trampling steed, with gold and purple decked,
Fiercely stood chawing on the foaming bit.
Then issued she, awaited with a train,
Clad in a cloak of Tyre bordered full rich.
Her quiver hung behind her back, her tress
Knotted in gold, her purple vesture eke
Buttoned with gold. The Trojans of her train
Before her go, with gladsome Iulus.
Aeneas eke, the goodliest of the rout,
Makes one of them and joineth close the throngs.
Like when Apollo leaveth Lycia,
His wintering place, and Xanthus' floods likewise,
To see Delos, his mother's mansion,
For to repair and furnish new her choir,
The Cretians and folk of Driopes
And painted Agathirth do howl and cry,
Environing the altars round about,
When that he walks upon Mount Cynthus' top,
His sparkled tress repressed with garlands soft
Of tender boughs, and tressed up in gold,
His quiver darts clattering behind his back:
So fresh and lusty did Aeneas seem;
Such loudly port in countenance doth show.
But to the hills and wild holts when they came,
From the rock's top the wild savage roes
Avail the hill, and on the other side,
Over the launds, they 'gan to take their course.
The harts likewise, in troops taking their flight,
Raising the dust, the mountains fast forsook.
The child Iulus, blithe of his swoft steed,
Amids the plain now pricks by them, now these,
And to encounter wisheth oft in mind
The foaming boar, instead of fearful beasts,
Or lion brown might from the hill descend.
In the meanwhile the heavens 'gan rumble sore;
In tail whereof a mingled shower with hail.
The Tyrian folk and scattered Trojan youth
And Venus' nephew the cottages for fear
Sought round about; the floods fell from the hills.
Queen Dido, with the Trojan prince alone,
Chanced on a den. Our mother then, the earth,
And Juno, that hath charge of marriage,
First tokens gave with burning gledes of flame,
And, privy to the wedlock, lightning skies;
And the nymphs wailed from the mountain's top.
Ay me! this was the foremost day of mirth,
And of mischief the first occasion eke.
Respect of fame no longer her withholds,
Ne museth she to frame her love by stealth.
Wedlock she calls it; under the pretence
Of which fair name she cloaketh now her fault.
The sun hoist up, the chosen youth 'gan throng
Unto the gates; the hayes so rarely knit,
The hunting-staves with their broad heads of iron,
And of Massile the horsemen, forth they break;
Of scenting hounds a kennel huge likewise.
And at the threshold of her chamber door
The Carthage lords did on their queen await;
The trampling steed, with gold and purple decked,
Fiercely stood chawing on the foaming bit.
Then issued she, awaited with a train,
Clad in a cloak of Tyre bordered full rich.
Her quiver hung behind her back, her tress
Knotted in gold, her purple vesture eke
Buttoned with gold. The Trojans of her train
Before her go, with gladsome Iulus.
Aeneas eke, the goodliest of the rout,
Makes one of them and joineth close the throngs.
Like when Apollo leaveth Lycia,
His wintering place, and Xanthus' floods likewise,
To see Delos, his mother's mansion,
For to repair and furnish new her choir,
The Cretians and folk of Driopes
And painted Agathirth do howl and cry,
Environing the altars round about,
When that he walks upon Mount Cynthus' top,
His sparkled tress repressed with garlands soft
Of tender boughs, and tressed up in gold,
His quiver darts clattering behind his back:
So fresh and lusty did Aeneas seem;
Such loudly port in countenance doth show.
But to the hills and wild holts when they came,
From the rock's top the wild savage roes
Avail the hill, and on the other side,
Over the launds, they 'gan to take their course.
The harts likewise, in troops taking their flight,
Raising the dust, the mountains fast forsook.
The child Iulus, blithe of his swoft steed,
Amids the plain now pricks by them, now these,
And to encounter wisheth oft in mind
The foaming boar, instead of fearful beasts,
Or lion brown might from the hill descend.
In the meanwhile the heavens 'gan rumble sore;
In tail whereof a mingled shower with hail.
The Tyrian folk and scattered Trojan youth
And Venus' nephew the cottages for fear
Sought round about; the floods fell from the hills.
Queen Dido, with the Trojan prince alone,
Chanced on a den. Our mother then, the earth,
And Juno, that hath charge of marriage,
First tokens gave with burning gledes of flame,
And, privy to the wedlock, lightning skies;
And the nymphs wailed from the mountain's top.
Ay me! this was the foremost day of mirth,
And of mischief the first occasion eke.
Respect of fame no longer her withholds,
Ne museth she to frame her love by stealth.
Wedlock she calls it; under the pretence
Of which fair name she cloaketh now her fault.