Aeneas and Dido meet

Tum breviter Dido, voltum demissa, profatur:
“Solvite corde metum, Teucri, secludite curas.
res dura et regni novitas me talia cogunt
moliri, et late finis custode tueri.
quis genus Aeneadum, quis Troiae nesciat urbem,
virtutesque virosque, aut tanti incendia belli?
non obtusa adeo gestamus pectora Poeni,
nec tam aversus equos Tyria Sol iungit ab urbe.
seu vos Hesperiam magnam Saturniaque arva,
sive Erycis finis regemque optatis Acesten,
auxilio tutos dimittam, opibusque iuvabo.
voltis et his mecum pariter considere regnis;
urbem quam statuo vestra est, subducite navis;
Tros Tyriusque mihi nullo discrimine agetur.
atque utinam rex ipse Noto compulsus eodem
adforet Aeneas! equidem per litora certos
dimittam et Libyae lustrare extrema iubebo,
si quibus eiectus silvis aut urbibus errat.”
his animum arrecti dictis et fortis Achates
et pater Aeneas iamdudum erumpere nubem
ardebant. prior Aenean compellat Achates:
“Nate dea, quae nunc animo sententia surgit?
omnia tuta vides, classem sociosque receptos.
unus abest, medio in fluctu quem vidimus ipsi
submersum; dictis respondent cetera matris.”
vix ea fatus erat, cum circumfusa repente
scindit se nubes et in aethera purgat apertum.
restitit Aeneas claraque in luce refulsit,
os umerosque deo similis; namque ipsa decoram
caesariem nato genetrix lumenque iuventae
purpureum et laetos oculis adflarat honores:
quale manus addunt ebori decus, aut ubi flavo
argentum Pariusve lapis circumdatur auro.
tum sic reginam adloquitur, cunctisque repente
improvisus ait: “Coram, quem quaeritis, adsum,
Troius Aeneas, Lybicis ereptus ab undis.
o sola infandos Troiae miserata labores,
quae nos, reliquias Danaum, terraeque marisque
omnibus exhaustos iam casibus, omnium egenos,
urbe, domo, socias, grates persolvere dignas
non opis est nostrae, Dido, nec quicquid ubique est
gentis Dardaniae, magnum quae sparsa per orbem.
di tibi, si qua pios respectant numina, si quid
usquam iustitia est et mens sibi conscia recti,
praemia digna ferant. Quae te tam laeta tulerunt
saecula? Qui tanti talem genuere parentes?
in freta dum fluvii current, dum montibus umbrae
lustrabunt convexa, polus dum sidera pascet,
semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt,
quae me cumque vocant terrae.”

Dido, her face cast down, briefly spoke: “Still the fear in your hearts, Trojans, and set your cares aside. Hard times and the newness of my reign force me to such measures and mount guard widely on my borders. Who could be ignorant of the race of Aeneas and the city of Troy, its prowess and its men and the flaring of so great a war? The breasts of we Tyrians are not so dull, nor does the Sun harness his horses so far from our city. Whether your choice be great Hesperia and the land of Saturn, or the bounds of Sicily and King Acestes, I will send you safe and give help and resources. Should you wish to settle on equal terms with me in this realm, the city I am founding is yours, beach your ships: Trojan and Tyrian will be dealt with without discrimination. If only, driven by the same wind, king Aeneas himself were here! But I will send trusty men to the shore with orders to search the boundaries of Libya to see if he has been washed ashore and wanders in forest or city.” Heartened by these words, both strong Achates and Father Aeneas burned to burst out of their veil of mist. Achates began, “Goddess-born, what do you think? See, all is safe, our fleet and comrades regained. One is missing, that we ourselves saw sunk: otherwise all is as your mother said.” No sooner had he spoken, when suddenly the cloud around them split and vanished into thin air. Aeneas stood, resplendent in the light of day, his face and shoulders like a god, for his mother had breathed on him the light of youth, a glory on his locks and a joyous lustre on his eyes, as when craftsmen adorn ivory, or when silver or Parian marble is framed in gold. To the surprise of all, he addressed the queen: “The one you sought is before you: I am Aeneas of Troy, snatched from the Libyan sea. You, Dido, are the only one to take pity on all the troubles that we who have survived the Greeks have had, worn out by all the disasters of land and sea and deprived of everything, and share with us your home and city. It is beyond our powers, and those of all that remains of the people of Troy, scattered over the wide world, to give you due thanks. If anywhere the divine has regard for the righteous, if justice exists anywhere, and a mind conscious of the right, may the Gods give you your due reward. What ages were fortunate enough to bear you? Who were great enough to be parents to such as you? As long as rivers run to the sea, shade glides over the vales of the mountains and the pole still pastures the stars, your name and your honour will be with me forever, whatever lands may call me.”