She with averted eyes and glance that rolledspeechless this way and that, had listened longto his reply, till thus her rage broke forth:“No goddess gave thee birth. No Dardanusbegot thy sires. But on its breast of stoneCaucasus bore thee, and the tigressesof fell Hyrcania to thy baby liptheir udders gave. Why should I longer showa lying smile? What worse can I endure?Did my tears draw one sigh? Did he once drophis stony stare? or did he yield a tearto my lament, or pity this fond heart?Why set my wrongs in order? Juno, now,and Jove, the son of Saturn, heed no morewhere justice lies. No trusting heart is safein all this world. That waif and castawayI found in beggary and gave him share—fool that I was!—in my own royal glory.His Iost fleet and his sorry crews I steeredfrom death away. O, how my fevered soulunceasing raves! Forsooth Apollo speaks!His Lycian oracles! and sent by Jovethe messenger of Heaven on fleeting airthe ruthless bidding brings! Proud businessfor gods, I trow, that such a task disturbstheir still abodes! I hold thee back no more,nor to thy cunning speeches give the lie.Begone! Sail on to Italy, thy throne,through wind and wave! I pray that, if there beany just gods of power, thou mayest drink downdeath on the mid-sea rocks, and often callwith dying gasps on Dido's name—while Ipursue with vengeful fire. When cold death rendsthe body from the breath, my ghost shall sitforever in thy path. Full penaltiesthy stubborn heart shall pay. They'll bring me neverin yon deep gulf of death of all thy woe.”Abrupt her utterance ceased; and sick at heartshe fled the light of day, as if to shrinkfrom human eyes, and left Aeneas thereirresolute with horror, while his soulframed many a vain reply. Her swooning shapeher maidens to a marble chamber boreand on her couch the helpless limbs reposed.
Talia dicentem iamdudum aversa tuetur,huc illuc volvens oculos, totumque pererratluminibus tacitis, et sic accensa profatur:“Nec tibi diva parens, generis nec Dardanus auctor,”“perfide; sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens”“Caucasus, Hyrcanaeque admorunt ubera tigres.”“Nam quid dissimulo, aut quae me ad maiora reservo?”“Num fletu ingemuit nostro? Num lumina flexit?”“Num lacrimas victus dedit, aut miseratus amantem est?”“Quae quibus anteferam? Iam iam nec maxuma Iuno,”“nec Saturnius haec oculis pater aspicit aequis.”“Nusquam tuta fides. Eiectum litore, egentem”“excepi, et regni demens in parte locavi;”“amissam classem, socios a morte reduxi.”“Heu furiis incensa feror! Nunc augur Apollo,”“nunc Lyciae sortes, nunc et Iove missus ab ipso”“interpres divom fert horrida iussa per auras.”“Scilicet is Superis labor est, ea cura quietos”“sollicitat. Neque te teneo, neque dicta refello.”“I, sequere Italiam ventis, pete regna per undas.”“Spero equidem mediis, si quid pia numina possunt,”“supplicia hausurum scopulis, et nomine Dido”“saepe vocaturum. Sequar atris ignibus absens,”“et, cum frigida mors anima seduxerit artus,”“omnibus umbra locis adero. Dabis, improbe, poenas.”“Audiam et haec Manis veniet mihi fama sub imos.”His medium dictis sermonem abrumpit, et aurasaegra fugit, seque ex oculis avertit et aufert,linquens multa metu cunctantem et multa parantemdicere. Suscipiunt famulae, conlapsaque membramarmoreo referunt thalamo stratisque reponunt.
Aeneas, faithful to a task divine,though yearning sore to remedy and soothesuch misery, and with the timely wordher grief assuage, and though his burdened heartwas weak because of love, while many a groanrose from his bosom, yet no whit did failto do the will of Heaven, but of his fleetresumed command. The Trojans on the shoreply well their task and push into the seathe lofty ships. Now floats the shining keel,and oars they bring all leafy from the grove,with oak half-hewn, so hurried was the flight.Behold them how they haste—from every gateforth-streaming!—just as when a heap of cornis thronged with ants, who, knowing winter nigh,refill their granaries; the long black lineruns o'er the levels, and conveys the spoilin narrow pathway through the grass; a partwith straining and assiduous shoulder pushthe kernels huge; a part array the file,and whip the laggards on; their busy trackswarms quick and eager with unceasing toil.O Dido, how thy suffering heart was wrung,that spectacle to see! What sore lamentwas thine, when from the towering citadelthe whole shore seemed alive, the sea itselfin turmoil with loud cries! Relentless Love,to what mad courses may not mortal heartsby thee be driven? Again her sorrow fliesto doleful plaint and supplication vain;again her pride to tyrant Love bows downlest, though resolved to die, she fail to proveeach hope of living:
At pius Aeneas, quamquam lenire dolentemsolando cupit et dictis avertere curas,multa gemens magnoque animum labefactus amore,iussa tamen divom exsequitur, classemque revisit.Tum vero Teucri incumbunt, et litore celsasdeducunt toto naves: natat uncta carina;frondentisque ferunt remos et robora silvisinfabricata, fugae studio.Migrantis cernas, totaque ex urbe ruentis.Ac velut ingentem formicae farris acervumcum populant, hiemis memores, tectoque reponunt;it nigrum campis agmen, praedamque per herbasconvectant calle angusto; pars grandia truduntobnixae frumenta umeris; pars agmina coguntcastigantque moras; opere omnis semita fervet.Quis tibi tum, Dido, cernenti talia sensus?quosve dabas gemitus, cum litora fervere lateprospiceres arce ex summa, totumque videresmisceri ante oculos tantis clamoribus aequor?Improbe Amor, quid non mortalia pectora cogis?Ire iterum in lacrimas, iterum temptare precandocogitur, et supplex animos submittere amori,ne quid inexpertum frustra moritura relinquat.
“O Anna, dost thou seeyon busy shore? From every side they come.their canvas wooes the winds, and o'er each prowthe merry seamen hang their votive flowers.Dear sister, since I did forebode this grief,I shall be strong to bear it. One sole boonmy sorrow asks thee, Anna! Since of thee,thee only, did that traitor make a friend,and trusted thee with what he hid so deep —the feelings of his heart; since thou alonehast known what way, what hour the man would yieldto soft persuasion—therefore, sister, haste,and humbly thus implore our haughty foe:‘I was not with the Greeks what time they sworeat Aulis to cut off the seed of Troy;I sent no ships to Ilium. Pray, have Iprofaned Anchises' tomb, or vexed his shade?’Why should his ear be deaf and obdurateto all I say? What haste? May he not makeone last poor offering to her whose loveis only pain? O, bid him but delaytill flight be easy and the winds blow fair.I plead no more that bygone marriage-vowby him forsworn, nor ask that he should losehis beauteous Latium and his realm to be.Nothing but time I crave! to give reposeand more room to this fever, till my fateteach a crushed heart to sorrow. I implorethis last grace. (To thy sister's grief be kind!)I will requite with increase, till I die.”
“Anna, vides toto properari litore; circum”“undique convenere; vocat iam carbasus auras,”“puppibus et laeti nautae imposuere coronas.”“Hunc ego si potui tantum sperare dolorem,”“et perferre, soror, potero. Miserae hoc tamen unum”“exsequere, Anna, mihi. Solam nam perfidus ille”“te colere, arcanos etiam tibi credere sensus;”“sola viri mollis aditus et tempora noras.”“I, soror, atque hostem supplex adfare superbum:”“non ego cum Danais Troianam exscindere gentem”“Aulide iuravi, classemve ad Pergama misi,”“nec patris Anchisae cineres Manisve revelli,”“cur mea dicta neget duras demittere in auris.”“Quo ruit? Extremum hoc miserae det munus amanti:”“exspectet facilemque fugam ventosque ferentis.”“Non iam coniugium antiquum, quod prodidit, oro,”“nec pulchro ut Latio careat regnumque relinquat:”“tempus inane peto, requiem spatiumque furori,”“dum mea me victam doceat fortuna dolere.”“Extremam hanc oro veniam—miserere sororis—”“quam mihi cum dederit, cumulatam morte remittam.”
Such plaints, such prayers, again and yet again,betwixt the twain the sorrowing sister bore.But no words move, no lamentations bringpersuasion to his soul; decrees of Fateoppose, and some wise god obstructs the waythat finds the hero's ear. Oft-times aroundthe aged strength of some stupendous oakthe rival blasts of wintry Alpine windssmite with alternate wrath: Ioud is the roar,and from its rocking top the broken boughsare strewn along the ground; but to the cragsteadfast it ever clings; far as toward heavenits giant crest uprears, so deep belowits roots reach down to Tartarus:—not lessthe hero by unceasing wail and cryis smitten sore, and in his mighty hearthas many a pang, while his serene intentabides unmoved, and tears gush forth in vain.
Talibus orabat, talisque miserrima fletusfertque refertque soror: sed nullis ille moveturfletibus, aut voces ullas tractabilis audit;fata obstant, placidasque viri deus obstruit auris.Ac, velut annoso validam cum robore quercumAlpini Boreae nunc hinc nunc flatibus illinceruere inter se certant; it stridor, et altaeconsternunt terram concusso stipite frondes;ipsa haeret scopulis, et, quantum vertice ad aurasaetherias, tantum radice in Tartara tendit:haud secus adsiduis hinc atque hinc vocibus herostunditur, et magno persentit pectore curas;mens immota manet; lacrimae volvuntur inanes.
Then wretched Dido, by her doom appalled,asks only death. It wearies her to seethe sun in heaven. Yet that she might hold fasther dread resolve to quit the light of day,behold, when on an incense-breathing shrineher offering was laid—O fearful tale!—the pure libation blackened, and the wineflowed like polluting gore. She told the sightto none, not even to her sister's ear.A second sign was given: for in her housea marble altar to her husband's shade,with garlands bright and snowy fleeces dressed,had fervent worship; here strange cries were heardas if her dead spouse called while midnight reigned,and round her towers its inhuman songthe lone owl sang, complaining o'er and o'erwith lamentation and long shriek of woe.Forgotten oracles by wizards toldwhisper old omens dire. In dreams she feelscruel Aeneas goad her madness on,and ever seems she, friendless and alone,some lengthening path to travel, or to seekher Tyrians through wide wastes of barren lands.Thus frantic Pentheus flees the stern arrayof the Eumenides, and thinks to seetwo noonday lights blaze oer his doubled Thebes;or murdered Agamemnon's haunted son,Orestes, flees his mother's phantom scourgeof flames and serpents foul, while at his dooravenging horrors wait.
Tum vero infelix fatis exterrita Didomortem orat; taedet caeli convexa tueri.Quo magis inceptum peragat lucemque relinquat,vidit, turicremis cum dona imponeret aris,horrendum dictu, latices nigrescere sacros,fusaque in obscenum se vertere vina cruorem.Hoc visum nulli, non ipsi effata sorori.Praeterea fuit in tectis de marmore templumconiugis antiqui, miro quod honore colebat,velleribus niveis et festa fronde revinctum:hinc exaudiri voces et verba vocantisvisa viri, nox cum terras obscura teneret;solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubosaepe queri et longas in fletum ducere voces;multaque praeterea vatum praedicta priorumterribili monitu horrificant. Agit ipse furentemin somnis ferus Aeneas; semperque relinquisola sibi, semper longam incomitata videturire viam, et Tyrios deserta quaerere terra.Eumenidum veluti demens videt agmina Pentheus,et solem geminum et duplicis se ostendere Thebas;aut Agamemnonius scaenis agitatus Orestesarmatam facibus matrem et serpentibus atriscum fugit, ultricesque sedent in limine Dirae.
Now sorrow-crazedand by her grief undone, resolved on death,the manner and the time her secret soulprepares, and, speaking to her sister sad,she masks in cheerful calm her fatal will:“I know a way—O, wish thy sister joy!—to bring him back to Iove, or set me free.On Ocean's bound and next the setting sunlies the last Aethiop land, where Atlas talllifts on his shoulder the wide wheel of heaven,studded with burning stars. From thence is comea witch, a priestess, a Numidian crone,who guards the shrine of the Hesperidesand feeds the dragon; she protects the fruitof that enchanting tree, and scatters thereher slumb'rous poppies mixed with honey-dew.Her spells and magic promise to set freewhat hearts she will, or visit cruel woeson men afar. She stops the downward flowof rivers, and turns back the rolling stars;on midnight ghosts she calls: her vot'ries hearearth bellowing loud below, while from the hillsthe ash-trees travel down. But, sister mine,thou knowest, and the gods their witness give,how little mind have I to don the garbof sorcery. Depart in secret, thou,and bid them build a lofty funeral pyreinside our palalce-wall, and heap thereonthe hero's arms, which that blasphemer hungwithin my chamber; every relic bring,and chiefly that ill-omened nuptial bed,my death and ruin! For I must blot outall sight and token of this husband vile.'T is what the witch commands.” She spoke no more,and pallid was her brow. Yet Anna's mindknew not what web of death her sister woveby these strange rites, nor what such frenzy dares;nor feared she worse than when Sichaeus died,but tried her forth the errand to fulfil.
Ergo ubi concepit furias evicta doloredecrevitque mori, tempus secum ipsa modumqueexigit, et, maestam dictis adgressa sororem,consilium voltu tegit, ac spem fronte serenat:“Inveni, germana, viam—gratare sorori—”“quae mihi reddat eum, vel eo me solvat amantem.”“Oceani finem iuxta solemque cadentem”“ultimus Aethiopum locus est, ubi maxumus Atlas”“axem humero torquet stellis ardentibus aptum:”“hinc mihi Massylae gentis monstrata sacerdos,”“Hesperidum templi custos, epulasque draconi”“quae dabat, et sacros servabat in arbore ramos,”“spargens umida mella soporiferumque papaver.”“Haec se carminibus promittit solvere mentes”“quas velit, ast aliis duras immittere curas,”“sistere aquam fluviis, et vertere sidera retro;”“nocturnosque movet Manis: mugire videbis”“sub pedibus terram, et descendere montibus ornos.”“Testor, cara, deos et te, germana, tuumque”“dulce caput, magicas invitam accingier artes.”“Tu secreta pyram tecto interiore sub auras”“erige, et arma viri, thalamo quae fixa reliquit”“impius, exuviasque omnis, lectumque iugalem,”“quo perii, superimponas: abolere nefandi”“cuncta viri monumenta iuvat, monstratque sacerdos.”Haec effata silet; pallor simul occupat ora.Non tamen Anna novis praetexere funera sacrisgermanam credit, nec tantos mente furoresconcipit, aut graviora timet, quam morte Sychaei:ergo iussa parat.
Soon as the funeral pyre was builded highin a sequestered garden, Iooming hugewith boughs of pine and faggots of cleft oak,the queen herself enwreathed it with sad flowersand boughs of mournful shade; and crowning allshe laid on nuptial bed the robes and swordby him abandoned; and stretched out thereona mock Aeneas;—but her doom she knew.Altars were there; and with loose locks unboundthe priestess with a voice of thunder calledthree hundred gods, Hell, Chaos, the three shapesof triple Hecate, the faces threeof virgin Dian. She aspersed a streamfrom dark Avernus drawn, she said; soft herbswere cut by moonlight with a blade of bronze,oozing black poison-sap; and she had pluckedthat philter from the forehead of new foalbefore its dam devours. Dido herself,sprinkling the salt meal, at the altar stands;one foot unsandalled, and with cincture free,on all the gods and fate-instructed stars,foreseeing death, she calls. But if there besome just and not oblivious power on high,who heeds when lovers plight unequal vow,to that god first her supplications rise.
At regina, pyra penetrali in sede sub auraserecta ingenti taedis atque ilice secta,intenditque locum sertis, et fronde coronatfunerea; super exuvias ensemque relictumeffigiemque toro locat, haud ignara futuri.Stant arae circum, et crines effusa sacerdoster centum tonat ore deos, Erebumque Chaosque,tergeminamque Hecaten, tria virginis ora Dianae.Sparserat et latices simulatos fontis Averni,falcibus et messae ad lunam quaeruntur aënispubentes herbae nigri cum lacte veneni;quaeritur et nascentis equi de fronte revolsuset matri praereptus amor.Ipsa mola manibusque piis altaria iuxta,unum exuta pedem vinclis, in veste recincta,testatur moritura deos et conscia fatisidera; tum, si quod non aequo foedere amantescurae numen habet iustumque memorque, precatur.
Soon fell the night, and peaceful slumbers breathedon all earth's weary creatures; the loud seasand babbling forests entered on repose;now midway in their heavenly course the starswheeled silent on; the outspread lands belowlay voiceless; all the birds of tinted wing,and flocks that haunt the merge of waters wideor keep the thorny wold, oblivious laybeneath the night so still; the stings of careceased troubling, and no heart its burden knew.Not so the Tyrian Queen's deep-grieving soul!To sleep she could not yield; her eyes and heartrefused the gift of night; her sufferingredoubled, and in full returning tideher love rebelled, while on wild waves of rageshe drifted to and fro. So, ceasing notfrom sorrow, thus she brooded on her wrongs:“What refuge now? Shall I invite the scornof my rejected wooers, or entreatof some disdainful, nomad blackamoorto take me to his bed—though many a timesuch husbands I made mock of? Shall I sailon Ilian ships away, and sink to bethe Trojans' humble thrall? Do they rejoicethat once I gave them bread? Lives gratitudein hearts like theirs for bygone kindnesses?O, who, if so I stooped, would deign to bearon yon proud ships the scorned and fallen Queen?Lost creature! Woe betide thee! Knowest thou notthe perjured children of Laomedon?What way is left? Should I take flight aloneand join the revelling sailors? Or departwith Tyrians, the whole attending trainof my own people? Hard the task to forcetheir hearts from Sidon's towers; how once morecompel to sea, and bid them spread the sail?Nay, perish! Thou hast earned it. Let the swordfrom sorrow save thee! Sister of my blood—who else but thee,—my own tears borne down,didst heap disaster on my frantic soul,and fling me to this foe? Why could I notpass wedlock by, and live a blameless lifeas wild things do, nor taste of passion's pain?But I broke faith! I cast the vows awaymade at Sichaeus' grave.”
Nox erat, et placidum carpebant fessa soporemcorpora per terras, silvaeque et saeva quierantaequora: cum medio volvuntur sidera lapsu,cum tacet omnis ager, pecudes pictaeque volucres,quaeque lacus late liquidos, quaeque aspera dumisrura tenent, somno positae sub nocte silenti[lenibant curas, et corda oblita laborum].At non infelix animi Phoenissa, nec umquamSolvitur in somnos, oculisve aut pectore noctemaccipit: ingeminant curae, rursusque resurgenssaevit amor, magnoque irarum fluctuat aestu.Sic adeo insistit, secumque ita corde volutat:“En, quid ago? Rursusne procos inrisa priores”“experiar, Nomadumque petam conubia supplex,”“quos ego sim totiens iam dedignata maritos?”“Iliacas igitur classes atque ultima Teucrum”“iussa sequar? Quiane auxilio iuvat ante levatos,”“et bene apud memores veteris stat gratia facti?”“Quis me autem, fac velle, sinet, ratibusve superbis”“invisam accipiet? Nescis heu, perdita, necdum”“Laomedonteae sentis periuria gentis?”“Quid tum, sola fuga nautas comitabor ovantes,”“an Tyriis omnique manu stipata meorum”“inferar, et, quos Sidonia vix urbe revelli,”“rursus agam pelago, et ventis dare vela iubebo?”“Quin morere, ut merita es, ferroque averte dolorem.”“Tu lacrimis evicta meis, tu prima furentem”“his, germana, malis oneras atque obicis hosti.”“Non licuit thalami expertem sine crimine vitam”“degere, more ferae, tales nec tangere curas!”“Non servata fides cineri promissa Sychaeo!”
Such loud lamentburst from her breaking heart with doleful sound.Meanwhile Aeneas on his lofty ship,having made ready all, and fixed his mindto launch away upon brief slumher fell.But the god came; and in the self-same guiseonce more in monitory vision spoke,all guised as Mercury,—his voice, his hue,his golden locks, and young limbs strong and fair.“Hail, goddess-born! Wouldst linger on in sleepat such an hour? Nor seest thou the snaresthat hem thee round? Nor hearest thou the voiceof friendly zephyrs calling? Senseless man!That woman's breast contrives some treacheryand horrid stroke; for, resolute to die,she drifts on swollen floods of wrath and scorn.Wilt thou not fly before the hastening hourof flight is gone? To-morrow thou wilt seeyon waters thronged with ships, the cruel glareof fire-brands, and yonder shore all flame,if but the light of morn again surprisethee loitering in this land. Away! Away!Stay not! A mutable and shifting thingis woman ever.” Such command he spoke,then melted in the midnight dark away.
Tantos illa suo rumpebat pectore questus.Aeneas celsa in puppi, iam certus eundi,carpebat somnos, rebus iam rite paratis.Huic se forma dei voltu redeuntis eodemobtulit in somnis, rursusque ita visa monere est—omnia Mercurio similis, vocemque coloremqueet crinis flavos et membra decora iuventa:“Nate dea, potes hoc sub casu ducere somnos,”“nec, quae te circum stent deinde pericula, cernis,”“demens, nec Zephyros audis spirare secundos?”“Illa dolos dirumque nefas in pectore versat,”“certa mori, varioque irarum fluctuat aestu.”“Non fugis hinc praeceps, dum praecipitare potestas?”“Iam mare turbari trabibus, saevasque videbis”“conlucere faces, iam fervere litora flammis,”“si te his attigerit terris Aurora morantem.”“Heia age, rumpe moras. Varium et mutabile semper”“femina.” Sic fatus, nocti se immiscuit atrae.
Aeneas, by that fleeting vision struckwith an exceeding awe, straightway leaped forthfrom slumber's power, and to his followers cried:“Awake, my men! Away! Each to his placeupon the thwarts! Unfurl at once the sails!A god from heaven a second time sent downurges our instant flight and bids us cutthe twisted cords. Whatever be thy name,behold, we come, O venerated Power!Again with joy we follow! Let thy graceassist us as we go! And may thy powerbring none but stars benign across our sky.”So saying, from its scabbard forth he flashedthe lightning of his sword, with naked bladestriking the hawsers free. Like ardor seizedon all his willing men, who raced and ran;and, while their galleys shadowed all the sea,clean from the shore they scudded, with strong strokessweeping the purple waves and crested foam.
Tum vero Aeneas, subitis exterritus umbris,corripit e somno corpus, sociosque fatigat:“Praecipites vigilate, viri, et considite transtris;”“solvite vela citi. Deus aethere missus ab alto”“festinare fugam tortosque incidere funes”“ecce iterum stimulat. Sequimur te, sancte deorum,”“quisquis es, imperioque iterum paremus ovantes.”“Adsis o placidusque iuves, et sidera caelo”“dextra feras.” Dixit, vaginaque eripit ensemfulmineum, strictoque ferit retinacula ferro.Idem omnes simul ardor habet, rapiuntque ruuntque;litora deseruere; latet sub classibus aequor;adnixi torquent spumas et caerula verrunt.
Aurora's first young beams to earth were pouringas from Tithonus' saffron bed she sprang;while from her battlements the wakeful Queenwatched the sky brighten, saw the mated sailspush forth to sea, till all her port and strandheld not an oar or keel. Thrice and four timesshe smote her lovely breast with wrathful hand,and tore her golden hair. “Great Jove,” she cries,“Shall that departing fugitive make mockof me, a queen? Will not my men-at-armsdraw sword, give chase, from all my city thronging?Down from the docks, my ships! Out, out! Begone!Take fire and sword! Bend to your oars, ye slaves!What have I said? Where am I? What mad thoughtsdelude this ruined mind? Woe unto thee,thou wretched Dido, now thy impious deedsstrike back upon thee. Wherefore struck they not,as was most fit, when thou didst fling awaythy sceptre from thy hand? O Iying oaths!O faith forsworn! of him who brings, they boast,his father's gods along, and bowed his backto lift an age-worn sire! Why dared I notseize on him, rend his body limb from limb,and hurl him piecemeal on the rolling sea?Or put his troop of followers to the sword,ascanius too, and set his flesh beforethat father for a feast? Such fearful warhad been of doubtful issue. Be it so!What fears a woman dying? Would I hadattacked their camp with torches, kindled flamefrom ship to ship, until that son and sire,with that whole tribe, were unto ashes burnedin one huge holocaust—myself its crown!Great orb of light whose holy beam surveysall earthly deeds! Great Juno, patronessof conjugal distress, who knowest all!Pale Hecate, whose name the witches cryat midnight crossways! O avenging furies!O gods that guard Queen Dido's dying breath!Give ear, and to my guiltless miseryextend your power. Hear me what I pray!If it be fated that yon creature curstdrift to the shore and happy haven find,if Father Iove's irrevocable wordsuch goal decree—there may he be assailedby peoples fierce and bold. A banished man,from his Iulus' kisses sundered far,may his own eyes see miserably slainhis kin and kind, and sue for alien arms.nor when he basely bows him to receiveterms of unequal peace, shall he be blestwith sceptre or with life; but perish therebefore his time, and lie without a graveupon the barren sand. For this I pray.This dying word is flowing from my heartwith my spilt blood. And—O ye Tyrians! Isting with your hatred all his seed and tribeforevermore. This is the offeringmy ashes ask. Betwixt our nations twain,No Iove! No truce or amity! Arise,Out of my dust, unknown Avenger, rise!To harry and lay waste with sword and flamethose Dardan settlers, and to vex them sore,to-day, to-morrow, and as long as poweris thine to use! My dying curse arraysshore against shore and the opposing seasin shock of arms with arms. May living foespass down from sire to son insatiate war!”
Et iam prima novo spargebat lumine terrasTithoni croceum linquens Aurora cubile.Regina e speculis ut primum albescere lucemvidit, et aequatis classem procedere velis,litoraque et vacuos sensit sine remige portus,terque quaterque manu pectus percussa decorum,flaventesque abscissa comas, “Pro Iuppiter, ibit”“hic” ait “et nostris inluserit advena regnis?”“Non arma expedient, totaque ex urbe sequentur,”“deripientque rates alii navalibus? Ite,”“ferte citi flammas, date vela, impellite remos!—”“Quid loquor, aut ubi sum? Quae mentem insania mutat?”“Infelix Dido, nunc te facta impia tangunt.”“Tum decuit, cum sceptra dabas.—En dextra fidesque,”“quem secum patrios aiunt portare Penates,”“quem subiisse umeris confectum aetate parentem!”“Non potui abreptum divellere corpus, et undis”“spargere? Non socios, non ipsum absumere ferro”“Ascanium, patriisque epulandum ponere mensis?—”“Verum anceps pugnae fuerat fortuna:—fuisset.”“Quem metui moritura? Faces in castra tulissem,”“implessemque foros flammis, natumque patremque”“cum genere extinxem, memet super ipsa dedissem.”“Sol, qui terrarum flammis opera omnia lustras,”“tuque harum interpres curarum et conscia Iuno,”“nocturnisque Hecate triviis ululata per urbes,”“et Dirae ultrices, et di morientis Elissae,”“accipite haec, meritumque malis advertite numen,”“et nostras audite preces. Si tangere portus”“infandum caput ac terris adnare necesse est,”“et sic fata Iovis poscunt, hic terminus haeret:”“at bello audacis populi vexatus et armis,”“finibus extorris, complexu avulsus Iuli,”“auxilium imploret, videatque indigna suorum”“funera; nec, cum se sub leges pacis iniquae”“tradiderit, regno aut optata luce fruatur,”“sed cadat ante diem, mediaque inhumatus harena.”“Haec precor, hanc vocem extremam cum sanguine fundo.”“Tum vos, o Tyrii, stirpem et genus omne futurum”“exercete odiis, cinerique haec mittite nostro”“munera. Nullus amor populis, nec foedera sunto.”“Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor,”“qui face Dardanios ferroque sequare colonos,”“nunc, olim, quocumque dabunt se tempore vires.”“Litora litoribus contraria, fluctibus undas”“imprecor, arma armis; pugnent ipsique nepotesque.”
She said. From point to point her purpose flew,seeking without delay to quench the flameof her loathed life. Brief bidding she addressedto Barce then, Sichaeus' nurse (her ownlay dust and ashes in a lonely gravebeside the Tyrian shore), “Go, nurse, and callmy sister Anna! Bid her quickly batheher limbs in living water, and procuredue victims for our expiating fires.bid her make haste. Go, bind on thy own browthe sacred fillet. For to Stygian Joveit is my purpose now to consummatethe sacrifice ordained, ending my woe,and touch with flame the Trojan's funeral pyre.”The aged crone to do her bidding ranwith trembling zeal. But Dido (horror-struckat her own dread design, unstrung with fear,her bloodshot eyes wide-rolling, and her cheektwitching and fever-spotted, her cold browblanched with approaching death)—sped past the doorsinto the palace garden; there she leaped,a frenzied creature, on the lofty pyreand drew the Trojan's sword; a gift not askedfor use like this! When now she saw the garbof Ilian fashion, and the nuptial couchshe knew too well, she lingered yet awhilefor memory and tears, and, falling proneon that cold bed, outpoured a last farewell:“Sweet relics! Ever dear when Fate and Heavenupon me smiled, receive my parting breath,and from my woe set free! My life is done.I have accomplished what my lot allowed;and now my spirit to the world of deathin royal honor goes. The founder Iof yonder noble city, I have seenwalls at my bidding rise. I was avengedfor my slain husband: I chastised the crimesof our injurious brother. Woe is me!Blest had I been, beyond deserving blest,if but the Trojan galleys ne'er had mooredupon my kingdom's bound!”
Haec ait, et partis animum versabat in omnis,invisam quaerens quam primum abrumpere lucem.Tum breviter Barcen nutricem adfata Sychaei;namque suam patria antiqua cinis ater habebat:“Annam cara mihi nutrix huc siste sororem;”“dic corpus properet fluviali spargere lympha,”“et pecudes secum et monstrata piacula ducat:”“sic veniat; tuque ipsa pia tege tempora vitta.”“Sacra Iovi Stygio, quae rite incepta paravi,”“perficere est animus, finemque imponere curis,”“Dardaniique rogum capitis permittere flammae.”Sic ait: illa gradum studio celerabat anili.At trepida, et coeptis immanibus effera Dido,sanguineam volvens aciem, maculisque trementisinterfusa genas, et pallida morte futura,interiora domus inrumpit limina, et altosconscendit furibunda rogos, ensemque recluditDardanium, non hos quaesitum munus in usus.Hic, postquam Iliacas vestes notumque cubileconspexit, paulum lacrimis et mente morata,incubuitque toro, dixitque novissima verba:“Dulces exuviae, dum fata deusque sinebant,”“accipite hanc animam, meque his exsolvite curis.”“Vixi, et, quem dederat cursum fortuna, peregi,”“et nunc magna mei sub terras ibit imago.”“Urbem praeclaram statui; mea moenia vidi;”“ulta virum, poenas inimico a fratre recepi;”“felix, heu nimium felix, si litora tantum”“numquam Dardaniae tetigissent nostra carinae!”
So saying, she pressedone last kiss on the couch. “Though for my deathno vengeance fall, O, give me death!” she cried.“O thus! O thus! it is my will to takethe journey to the dark. From yonder seamay his cold Trojan eyes discern the flamesthat make me ashes! Be this cruel deathhis omen as he sails!” She spoke no more.But almost ere she ceased, her maidens allthronged to obey her cry, and found their Queenprone fallen on the sword, the reeking steelstill in her bloody hands. Shrill clamor flewalong the lofty halls; wild rumor spreadthrough the whole smitten city: Ioud lament,groans and the wail of women echoed onfrom roof to roof, and to the dome of airthe noise of mourning rose. Such were the cryif a besieging host should break the wallsof Carthage or old Tyre, and wrathful flameso'er towers of kings and worshipped altars roll.Her sister heard. Half in a swoon, she ranwith trembling steps, where thickest was the throng,beating her breast, while with a desperate handshe tore at her own face, and called aloudupon the dying Queen. “Was it for thismy own true sister used me with such guile?O, was this horrid deed the dire intentof altars, Iofty couch, and funeral fires?What shall I tell for chiefest of my woes?Lost that I am! Why, though in death, cast offthy sister from thy heart? Why not inviteone mortal stroke for both, a single sword,one agony together? But these handsbuilt up thy pyre; and my voice imploredthe blessing of our gods, who granted methat thou shouldst perish thus—and I not know!In thy self-slaughter, sister, thou hast slainmyself, thy people, the grave counsellorsof Sidon, and yon city thou didst buildto be thy throne!—Go, fetch me water, there!That I may bathe those gashes! If there beone hovering breath that stays, let my fond lipsdiscover and receive!” So saying, she sprang upfrom stair to stair, and, clasping to her breasther sister's dying form, moaned grievously,and staunched the dark blood with her garment's fold.Vainly would Dido lift her sinking eyes,but backward fell, while at her heart the woundopened afresh; three times with straining armshe rose; three times dropped helpless, her dimmed eyesturned skyward, seeking the sweet light of day, —which when she saw, she groaned.
Dixit, et, os impressa toro, “Moriemur inultae,”“sed moriamur” ait. “Sic, sic iuvat ire sub umbras”:“Hauriat hunc oculis ignem crudelis ab alto”“Dardanus, et nostrae secum ferat omina mortis.”Dixerat; atque illam media inter talia ferroconlapsam aspiciunt comites, ensemque cruorespumantem, sparsasque manus. It clamor ad altaatria; concussam bacchatur Fama per urbem.Lamentis gemituque et femineo ululatutecta fremunt; resonat magnis plangoribus aether,non aliter, quam si immissis ruat hostibus omnisKarthago aut antiqua Tyros, flammaeque furentesculmina perque hominum volvantur perque deorum.Audiit exanimis, trepidoque exterrita cursuunguibus ora soror foedans et pectora pugnisper medios ruit, ac morientem nomine clamat:“Hoc illud, germana, fuit? Me fraude petebas?”“Hoc rogus iste mihi, hoc ignes araeque parabant?”“Quid primum deserta querar? Comitemne sororem”“sprevisti moriens? Eadem me ad fata vocasses:”“idem ambas ferro dolor, atque eadem hora tulisset.”“His etiam struxi manibus, patriosque vocavi”“voce deos, sic te ut posita crudelis abessem?”“Exstinxti te meque, soror, populumque patresque”“Sidonios urbemque tuam. Date volnera lymphis”“abluam, et, extremus si quis super halitus errat,”“ore legam.” Sic fata, gradus evaserat altos,semianimemque sinu germanam amplexa fovebatcum gemitu, atque atros siccabat veste cruores.Illa, graves oculos conata attollere, rursusdeficit; infixum stridit sub pectore vulnus.Ter sese attollens cubitoque adnixa levavit;ter revoluta toro est, oculisque errantibus altoquaesivit caelo lucem, ingemuitque reperta.
Great Juno thenlooked down in mercy on that lingering painand labor to depart: from realms divineshe sent the goddess of the rainbow wing,Iris, to set the struggling spirit freeand loose its fleshly coil. For since the endcame not by destiny, nor was the doomof guilty deed, but of a hapless wightto sudden madness stung, ere ripe to die,therefore the Queen of Hades had not shornthe fair tress from her forehead, nor assignedthat soul to Stygian dark. So Iris cameon dewy, saffron pinions down from heaven,a thousand colors on her radiant way,from the opposing sun. She stayed her flightabove that pallid brow: “I come with powerto make this gift to Death. I set thee freefrom thy frail body's bound.” With her right handshe cut the tress: then through its every limbthe sinking form grew cold; the vital breathfled forth, departing on the viewless air.
Tum Iuno omnipotens, longum miserata doloremdifficilisque obitus, Irim demisit Olympo,quae luctantem animam nexosque resolveret artus.Nam quia nec fato, merita nec morte peribat,sed misera ante diem, subitoque accensa furore,nondum illi flavum Proserpina vertice crinemabstulerat, Stygioque caput damnaverat Orco.Ergo Iris croceis per caelum roscida pennis,mille trahens varios adverso sole colores,devolat, et supra caput adstitit: “Hunc ego Diti”“sacrum iussa fero, teque isto corpore solvo.”Sic ait, et dextra crinem secat: omnis et unadilapsus calor, atque in ventos vita recessit.