Meanwhile Dawn, rising, left the Ocean. Day broken, the pick of the young men go to the gates, fine nets, snares, spears with broad blades, Massylian riders burst forth, and sharp-nosed strength of hounds. The Phoenician élite at the threshold await the Queen, pausing in her chamber: her horse stands splendid in purple and gold – fiery, it champs the foaming bit. Finally she comes forth, in a Sidonian robe with an embroidered border, a large throng crowding round, her quiver is of gold, her hair bound in gold, golden the brooch that fastens her purple dress. The Trojan comrades, and joyous Iulus too, come forward. Beyond all others in beauty, Aeneas himself bestows his company and unites both throngs. Like Apollo when he leaves wintry Lycia and Xanthus’s stream, visits his Mother’s Delos and revives the dances, and mingling round the altars the Cretans, Dryopes and painted Agathyrsi roar; he mounts the ridge of Cynthus, tops his flowing hair with soft leaves, dressing and binding it with gold, his weapons ring on his shoulders: no less strikingly went Aeneas, the same glory shines from his matchless face. When they had come to the high hills and pathless wilds, see, the wild goats, driven from the top of the crag, pour down the ridges; elsewhere herds of deer cross the open ground at a run, unite their bands, kicking up the dust in flight, and leave the high country behind. In the valleys young Ascanius glories in his keen mount, outpaces now these, now those in the chase, wishing that among this dull quarry a frothing boar might be bestowed for his vows, or a golden lion descend from the mountain. Meanwhile the sky began to be churned with a great rumbling, cloud follows mingled with hail and everywhere the Phoenician brotherhood, Trojan youth and Venus’s grandson, alarmed, sought shelters throughout the fields: torrents hurtle down from the mountains. Dido and the Dardan leader come to the same grotto. Primal Earth and Juno, Lady of weddings, give the sign: lightning and sky, sensing the union, flashed, and from the topmost peak came the howling of the Nymphs.