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the Queen's infection; and because the voice
of honor to such frenzy spoke not, she,
daughter of Saturn, unto Venus turned
and counselled thus: “How noble is the praise,
how glorious the spoils of victory,
for thee and for thy boy! Your names should be
in lasting, vast renown—that by the snare
of two great gods in league one woman fell!
it 'scapes me not that my protected realms
have ever been thy fear, and the proud halls
of Carthage thy vexation and annoy.
Why further go? Prithee, what useful end
has our long war? Why not from this day forth
perpetual peace and nuptial amity?
Hast thou not worked thy will? Behold and see
how Iove-sick Dido burns, and all her flesh
'The madness feels! So let our common grace
smile on a mingled people! Let her serve
a Phrygian husband, while thy hands receive
her Tyrian subjects for the bridal dower!”
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