...teed, not knowing; while she scours the dark ravines of Dicte and its woodlands; at her heart the mortal barb irrevocably clings. around her city's battlements she guides aeneas, to make show of Sidon 's gold, and what her realm can boast; full oft her voice essays to speak and frembling dies away: or, when the daylight fades, she spreads anew a royal banquet, and once more will plead mad that...