Aeneid lines 1.657-94 (class translation)

But the Cytherean considers new skills (and) new plans in her heart, so that Cupid having changed his appearance and looks would come in place of sweet Ascanius and would incite the mad queen with his gifts and entwine fire in her bones. Of course she fears the doubtful home and the double-tongued Tyrians, terrible Juno burns and the care returns by night. Therefore she speaks to winged Love with these words: “Son, my strength, my great power, son, you who alone scorns the Typhoean weapons of the highest father, I flee to you and as a suppliant I beg your divine will. These things are known to you, how your brother Aeneas is thrown about on the sea around all the shores by the hatreds of bitter Juno, and often you have grieved with our pain. Now Phoenician Dido holds and delays [him] with flattering voices, and I fear how the hospitalities of Juno might turn themselves: hardly will she yield in such a crisis of affairs. Therefore I plan to seize the queen first with tricks and to encircle [her] with flames, lest by any power she changes herself but so she is held with me by a great love of Aeneas. Take now our mind as to how you are able to do this: the royal boy prepares to go to the Sidonian city at the summon of his dear father, my greatest care, carrying gifts surviving from the sea and from the flames of Troy; I will hide this one lulled by sleep above high Cytherea or above Idalium in my sacred seat, lest in any way he is able to know the tricks or get in the middle. You as a boy counterfeit the appearance of that boy by a trick and put on his well-known countenance for one night, no longer, so that, when most joyful Dido receives you in her lap among the royal tables and Lyeaen wine, when she will give (you) hugs and will plant sweet little kisses (on you), you will breath (into her) hidden fire and deceive with poison.”

Love obeys the words of his dear mother and takes off his wings and, rejoicing, walks with the step of Iulus. But Venus steeps peaceful quiet through the limbs of Ascanius, and the goddess carries the cherished one on her lap into the high groves of Idalia, where breathing, soft sweet-marjoram enfolds that one with its flowers and sweet shade.