So Venus spoke, and Venus' son replied: “No voice or vision of thy sister fair has crossed my path, thou maid without a name! Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould, nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess, art thou bright Phoebus' sister? Or some nymph, the daughter of a god? Whate'er thou art, thy favor we implore, and potent aid in our vast toil. Instruct us of what skies, or what world's end, our storm-swept lives have found! Strange are these lands and people where we rove, compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand shall many a victim on thine altar slay!” Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft bear bow and quiver, and our ankles white lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies the Punic power, where Tyrian masters hold Agenor's town; but on its borders dwell the Libyans, by battles unsubdued. Upon the throne is Dido, exiled there from Tyre , to flee th' unnatural enmity of her own brother. 'T was an ancient wrong; too Iong the dark and tangled tale would be; I trace the larger outline of her story: Sichreus was her spouse, whose acres broad no Tyrian lord could match, and he was-blessed by his ill-fated lady's fondest love, whose father gave him her first virgin bloom in youthful marriage. But the kingly power among the Tyrians to her brother came, Pygmalion, none deeper dyed in crime in all that land. Betwixt these twain there rose a deadly hatred,—and the impious wretch, blinded by greed, and reckless utterly of his fond sister's joy, did murder foul upon defenceless and unarmed Sichaeus, and at the very altar hewed him down. Long did he hide the deed, and guilefully deceived with false hopes, and empty words, her grief and stricken love. But as she slept, her husband's tombless ghost before her came, with face all wondrous pale, and he laid bare his heart with dagger pierced, disclosing so the blood-stained altar and the infamy that darkened now their house. His counsel was to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land, and for her journey's aid, he whispered where his buried treasure lay, a weight unknown of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged, Dido, assembling her few trusted friends, prepared her flight. There rallied to her cause all who did hate and scorn the tyrant king, or feared his cruelty. They seized his ships, which haply rode at anchor in the bay, and loaded them with gold; the hoarded wealth of vile and covetous Pygmalion they took to sea. A woman wrought this deed. Then came they to these lands where now thine eyes behold yon walls and yonder citadel of newly rising Carthage . For a price they measured round so much of Afric soil as one bull's hide encircles, and the spot received its name, the Byrsa. But, I pray, what men are ye? from what far land arrived, and whither going?” When she questioned thus, her son, with sighs that rose from his heart's depths, this answer gave: “Divine one, if I tell my woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause to heed the tale, first would the vesper star th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day in slumber lie. Of ancient Troy are we— if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved from sea to sea, the hazard of the storm cast us up hither on this Libyan coast. I am Aeneas, faithful evermore to Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear my gods ancestral, which I snatched away from peril of the foe. My fame is known above the stars. I travel on in quest of Italy , my true home-land, and I from Jove himself may trace my birth divine. With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main I launched away. My mother from the skies gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained. Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive the shock of wind and wave; and I myself friendless, bereft, am wandering up and down this Libyan wilderness! Behold me here, from Europe and from Asia exiled still!” But Venus could not let him longer plain, and stopped his grief midway: “Whoe'er thou art, I deem that not unblest of heavenly powers, with vital breath still thine, thou comest hither unto our Tyrian town. Go steadfast on, and to the royal threshold make thy way! I bring thee tidings that thy comrades all are safe at land; and all thy ships, conveyed by favoring breezes, safe at anchor lie; or else in vain my parents gave me skill to read the skies. Look up at yonder swans! A flock of twelve, whose gayly fluttering file, erst scattered by Jove's eagle swooping down from his ethereal haunt, now form anew their long-drawn line, and make a landing-place, or, hovering over, scan some chosen ground, or soaring high, with whir of happy wings, re-circle heaven in triumphant song: likewise, I tell thee, thy Iost mariners are landed, or fly landward at full sail. Up, then! let yon plain path thy guidance be,” She ceased and turned away. A roseate beam from her bright shoulder glowed; th' ambrosial hair breathed more than mortal sweetness, while her robes fell rippling to her feet. Each step revealed the veritable goddess. Now he knew that vision was his mother, and his words pursued the fading phantom as it fled: “Why is thy son deluded o'er and o'er with mocking dreams,—another cruel god? Hast thou no hand-clasp true, nor interchange of words unfeigned betwixt this heart and thine?” Such word of blame he spoke, and took his way toward the city's rampart. Venus then o'erveiled them as they moved in darkened air,— a liquid mantle of thick cloud divine,— that viewless they might pass, nor would any obstruct, delay, or question why they came. To Paphos then she soared, her Ioved abode, where stands her temple, at whose hundred shrines garlands of myrtle and fresh roses breathe, and clouds of orient sweetness waft away.