Dido and Aeneas Aeneid 4 by Publius Vergilius Maro Lyrics

Aeneid 4

But the Queen, long sick with love,
Nurses her heart’s deep wound
With her pounding blood and dark flame
Lick at her soul. Thoughts of Aeneas –
The man's heroic lineage his noble character-
Flood her mind, his face and words transfix
Her heart and her desire give her no rest.
When Dawn had spread the Sunlight over earth
And dispelled nights damp shadow from the sky,
Dido, deeply troubled spoke to her sister:
my nightmares would not let me sleep!
This guest who has come to our house-
His look the way he carries himself his brave heart!
He has to be descended from the gods. Fear
Always gives away men of inferior birth.
What the Fates have put him through at sea,
The wars he painted fought to the bitter end!
If I were nor unshakable in my vow
Never to pledge myself in marriage again
After death stole my first love away-
If the mere thought of marriage did nor leave me cold
I might perhaps have succumbed this once.
.
Anna I must confess, since my husband
Poor Sychaeus fell at my brother's hand
And stained our household gods with blood
Only this man has turned my eye,
Only he has caused my heart to falter.
I recognize the old, familiar flames.
But may the earth gape open and swallow me,
May the Father Almighty blast me
Down to the shades of Erebus below
And Night profound, before I violate you,
O Modesty, and break your vows.
The man who first joined himself to me
Has taken my love with him to the grave."
Thus Dido, and her tears wet her bosom.
And Anna:
"O sister dearer than light itself,
Will you waste your youth in spinsterhood
Alone and grieving, never to taste love's joys,
The sweetness of children? Do you think
Any of this matters to ghosts in the grave?
True, in your mourning no potential husbands
Have caught your eye, neither back in Tyre
Nor here in Libya. You've looked down your nose
At Iarbas and Africa's other heralded chieftains.
But does it make sense to resist someone you like?
Has it crossed your mind just where you've settled?
The Gaetulians, invincible in war,
And Numidian horsemen are on one frontier.
Just off the coast are the Syrtes' quicksand shoals,
Desert to the south, and wild Barcaean nomads
Ranging all over. Need I mention the war clouds
Gathering over Tyre, and your brother's threats?
I think the providential gods, with Juno behind them,
Have blown these Trojan ships our way.
With a husband like this, what a city, Sister,
What a kingdom you would see rise! With Trojan allies
What heights of glory our Punic realm would climb!
Just beg the gods' indulgence, and when you have
Good omens from the sacrifices, pamper
Your guests, and invent reasons for them to linger:
'Stormy Orion vexes the dim sea, your ships
Are battered, the weather just won't cooperate."'
With these words Anna fanned the flames of love
That flickered in Dido's heart and gave resolve
To her wavering mind, dissolving her sense of shame.
First they make the rounds at shrines, soliciting
Divine approval. To Ceres the lawgiver, Apollo,
And father Bacchus the sisters slaughter
Choice sheep in perfect rituals. But they honor
Above all Juno, goddess of marriage. Dido herself
With her great beauty, holds the wine-bowl '
And pours it out between a glossy heifer's horns.
She glides past statues of gods to rich altars,
Ushers in each day with offerings, consults in awe
The steaming entrails of disemboweled bulls.
But what do prophets know? How much can vows
Or shrines, help a raging heart? Meanwhile, the
Eats her soft marrow, and the wound lives
Silent beneath her breast.

Dido is burning.
She wanders all through the city in her misery,
like a doe pierced by an arrow
Deep in the woods o f Crete. She is unwary,
And the arrow, shot by a shepherd who has no idea
Where it has landed, finds the animal,
And as she runs all through the Dictaean forest
The lethal shaft clings to her flank.
So too Dido.
Now she leads Aeneas on a tour of the walls,
Shows him what the wealth of Sidon can build.
She begins to speak, but her voice cracks.
As dusk comes on her royal desire is a banquet.
Mad to hear once more the labors of Ilium
'
She demands the story again, and again hangs
On every word. When her guests have left,
And the waning moon has set, and the westering stars
Make slumber sweet, she pines away
In the empty hall, lying alone on Aeneas' couch,
Seeing and hearing him although he is gone.
Or she holds little Ascanius in her lap
To fill in the features of Aeneas' face
And in this way cheats her unspeakable love.

The half-built towers rise no higher, the men no longer
Drill at arms or maintain the city's defensive works.
All work stops, construction halts on the huge,
Menacing walls. The idle derricks loom against the sky.
When Jove's dear wife saw Dido so lovesick
That her good name no longer mattered to her
As much as her passion, she approached Venus and said:

"An outstanding victory! What a memorable display
Of divine power by you and your little boy,
Two devious deities laying low a single woman!
Your fear of Carthage and your suspicion
Of its noble houses hardly escapes me, my dear.
But to what purpose? Why are we at odds?
Why not instead work out a lasting peace-
Sealed with a royal marriage? You have what you want:
Dido burning with love, her very bones enflamed.
I propose, therefore, that we rule this people jointly,
With equal authority. Dido can submit
To a Trojan husband, with Carthage as her dowry."

The Goddess of Love detected a ploy
To divert power away from Italy
And to Libyan shores. She responded this way:
"Only a fool would refuse such an offer
And prefer to oppose you-provided, of course,
That your plan meets with success. But I remain
A little unclear about the intentions of Fate.
Does Jupiter want the Tyrians and Trojans
To form one city? Does he approve
This mingling of races? You are his wife
And so you should persuade him. Lead And I'll follow."

And the Queen of Heaven:
"Leave that to me. Now listen, and I'll outline
Exactly how we will deal with the business at hand.
Aeneas and the most unfortunate Dido
Are preparing a woodland hunt for tomorrow
As soon as Titan lifts his luminous head
And dissolves with his rays the curtains of the world.
Just as the beaters start flushing out game
I'll pour down a black rain laced with hailstones
And make all the heavens rumble with thunder.
The will scatter in the enveloping gloom,
And Dido and Aeneas will find themselves
In the same cave. I will be there too
And with your consent I will unite them
In holy matrimony. This will be their wedding."

The Cytherean approved and nodded her assent
Smiling all the while at Juno's treachery.
Dawn rose from the river Ocean
And at first light the hunting 
party
Spills out from the gates with nets and spears.
Massylian horsemen and keen hounds surge ahead,
But the Carthaginian nobles await their Queen.
She pauses at the threshold of her chamber
While her resplendent in purple and gold,
the foaming bit. Finally, she steps forward
With her retinue, wearing a Phoenician cloak
Finished with embroidery. Her quiver is gold,
Her hair is bound in gold, and the purple cloak
Is pinned with a clasp of gold.

Then out ride
The Trojans with Iulus, excited to be among them.
Aeneas himself, handsome as a god,
Takes the lead and joins his troops to Dido's.
In winter Apollo leaves Lycia and the streams
Of Xanthus and goes to his birth-isle, Delos.
There he renews the circling dances,
And Cretans, Dryopes, and painted Scythians
Whirl around his sacred altars while the god
Paces the ridges of Mount Cynthus, braiding
His flowing hair with soft leaves and gold,
And the arrows rattle in the quiver on his back.

No less majestic
Was Aeneas, and his face shone with equal glory.
When they came into the high, trackless hills,
Mountain goats, dislodged from the rocks above,
Ran down the ridges. Elsewhere, herds of deer
Streamed across open country, kicking up
Billows of dust in their flight from the hills.
Young Ascanius rode his spirited mount
Up and down the valleys, in high spirits himself,
Chasing deer and goats but hoping all the while
That something less tame, a wild boar or tawny lion,
Would come down from the mountains.
Meanwhile, the sky begins to rumble,
And a rainstorm, turning to hail, sweeps in.
The Tyrians and Trojans, with Iulus among them,
Venus' own dear grandchild, scatter through the fields
In search of shelter. Streams gush down the mountain,
And Dido and the Trojan leader make their way
To the same cave. Earth herself and bridal Juno
Give the signal. Fires flash in the Sky,
Witness to their nuptials, and the Nymphs
Wail high on the mountaintop. That day
Was the first cause of calamity and of death
To come. For no longer is Dido swayed
By appearances or her good name. No more
Does she contemplate a secret love. She calls it
Marriage, and with that word she cloaks her sin.

Rumor at once sweeps through Libya’s great cities
Rumor, the swiftest of evils. She thrives on speed
And gains power a she goes. Small and timid at first,
She grows quickly: and though her feet touch the ground
Her head is hidden in the cloud. The story goes
That Mother Earth vexed with the gods bore this
One last child, a sister to Coeus and Enceladus.
Fast on her feet her bearing wings a blur:
She is a dread looming monster. Under every feather
On her body he has - strange to say - a watchful eye
A tongue a shouting mouth, and pricked-up ears.
By night she wheels through the dark skies, screeching,
And never closes her shining eye in sleep.
By day she perches on rooftops or cowers
Watching and she throws whole cities into panic,
As much a hardened liar as a herald of truth.

Exultant now, she fills the people ears
With all kinds of talk intoning fact and fiction: .
Aeneas has come born of Trojan blood·;
Dido impressed has given him her hand
And now they indulge themselve the winter long
.
Neglecting their realms, slaves to shameful lust.
The loathsome goddess spreads this gossip
Far and wide. Then she wind her way to King Iarbas
And with her words his rage flares to the sky.
Iarbas, a son of Jupiter Ammon
By a Garmantian nymph the god had ravished,
Had built in his vast realm a hundred temples
For his Father, and on a hundred altars
Had consecrated sacred fire, an eternal flame
In honor of the god. Blood from sacrificial victims
Clotted the soil, the portals bloomed with garlands
As Iarbas, they say, insane with jealousy at Rumor's
Bitter news, knelt at these altars surrounded by god
Upturned his palms and prayed, prayed to his Father:

"Almighty Jupiter to whom the Moors now offer
Libations of wine as they feast on brocaded couches-
Do you see these thing ? Why should we shudder
At you, Father, when you hurl your thunderbolts,
Or when lightning flashes blindly in the clouds
And stammering thunder rolls through the sky?
This woman, a vagrant in my land, who established
Her little town on a strip of coast we sold to her,
With acreage on lease-this woman has spurned
My offers of marriage and embraced Aeneas as her lord.
And now this Paris, with his crew of eunuchs,
The bonnet on his pomaded hair tied with ribbons
Beneath his chin, makes off with the prize
While we, who bring offerings to temples-
Your temples-are worshiping an empty name."

So Iarbas prayed, clutching the altar.
And the Almighty heard him, and turned his eyes
To the royal city and the lovers oblivious
Of their better name.

Then Jupiter said to Mercury:
"Go now, my son, summon the Zephyrs,
Glide down on your wings and speak to the Trojan
Idling in Carthage. He seems to have quite forgotten,
In his infatuation, the cities given him by Fate.
Carry my words down through the rushing winds.
This is not the man his lovely mother promised us.
Not for this did she rescue him twice from the Greeks,
But that he should be the one to rule Italy, a land
Pregnant with empire and clamorous for war,
And produce a race from Teucer's high blood,
And bring all the world beneath the rule of law.
If his own glory means nothing to him, if he will not
Take on this labor for his own fame's sake,
Does he begrudge Ascanius the towers of Rome?
What is he hoping for? Why does he linger
Among a hostile people and have no regard
For Ansonia's race and Lavinian fields?
In sum, he must sail. That is my message."

Jupiter had spoken, and his son prepared
To fulfill his commands. He bound on his feet
The golden sandals whose wings carry him over
Landscape and seascape in a blur of wind.

Then he took the wand he uses to summon
Pale ghosts from Orcus or send them down
To Tartarus' gloom- the same wand he uses
To charm mortals to sleep and make sleeper awake
And the dead eyelids. Holding this wand
Be rides the wind sailing through thunderheads.
As he flies along, he makes our the summit
And steep slopes of Atlas who shoulders the sky.
Hts pine-clad head is forever dark with clouds
And by Snow mantles his shoulders,
And icy streams drip from his frozen grey beard.
Mercury glided to a halt here, poised in the air:
And then gathered himself for a dive to the sea'
Where he skimmed the waves

Like a cormorant
That patrols a broken shoreline hunting for fish.

And so the god flew from the mountain giant, Atlas
Whose daughter, Maia, was Mercury's mother
And came at last to the beaches of Libya.
The wing-footed messenger stepped ashore
And when he reached the huts he saw Aeneas
Work, towers and houses rising around him.
His sword was enstarred with yellow jasper:
And his boulder hung a mantle
With Tyrian purple, a splendid gift from Dido
Who had stitched the fabric with threads of gold

Mercury weighed in at once:
And building a beautiful city- for a woman?
What your own realm your own affairs?
The ruler of the gods- and of all the universe –
Has sent me down to you from bright Olympus
Bearing his message through the rushing winds.
What are you thinking of, wasting your time in Libya?
If your own glory means nothing to you,
Think of the inheritance you owe to Ascanius-
A kingdom in Italy and the soil of Rome."

With these words on his lips, Mercury vanished
Into thin air, visible no more to human eyes.
Aeneas stood there amazed, choking with fear.
He bristled all over, speechless, astounded,
And he burned with desire to leave that sweet land,
In awe of the commandment from the gods above.
But what should he do? What can he say
To the Queen in her passion? How will he choose
His opening words? His mind ranges all over,
Darting this way and that, and as he weighs
His options, this seems the best choice:
He calls his captains, Mnestheus, Sergestus,
And brave Serestus, and he orders them
To prepare the fleet for silent running, get the men
To the shore and the gear in order, but conceal
The reason for this change of plans. Meanwhile,
He explains that-since good Dido knows nothing
And would never dream that a love so strong
Could ever be destroyed-he himself will find
A way to approach her, the proper occasion
To break the news to her gently. The captains
Were more than happy to fulfill his commands.

But the Queen (are lovers ever really fooled?)
Had a presentiment of treachery. Fearing all
Even when all seemed safe, she was the first
To detect a shift in the wind. It was evil Rumor
Who whispered that the fleet was preparing
To set out to sea.
 She went out of her mind,
Raging through the city

as wild and furious
As a maenad when the holy mysteries have begun,
Her blood shaking when she hears the cry "Bacchus!"
In the nocturnal frenzy on Mount Cithaeron
And the mountain echoes the sacred call.

Finally she corners Aeneas and says:
"Traitor! Did you actually hope to conceal
This crime and sneak away without telling me?
Does our love mean nothing to you? Does it matter
That we pledged ourselves to each other?
Do you care that Dido will die a cruel death?
Preparing to set sail in the dead of winter,
Launching your ships into the teeth of this wind!
How can you be so cruel? If Troy still stood,
And you weren't searching for lands unknown,
You wouldn't even sail for Troy in this weather!
Is it me? Is it me you are fleeing?
By these tears, I beg you, by your right hand,
Which is all I left, by our wedding vows,
Still so fresh - if I have ever done anything
To deserve your thanks, if there is anything in me
That you found sweet, pity a house destined to fall
And if there is still room for prayers, I beg you,
Please change your mind. It is because of you
The Libyan warlords hate me and my own Tyrians
Abhor me. Because of you that my honor
Has been snuffed out, the good name I once had,
My only hope to ascend to the stars.
To what death do you leave me, dear guest
(The only name I can call the man
I once called husband)? For what should I wait?
For my brother Pygmalion to destroy my city,
For Gaetulian Iarbas to lead me off to captivity?
If you had at least left me with child
Before deserting me, if only a baby Aeneas
Were playing in my hall to help me remember you,
I wouldn't feel so completely used and abandoned."

Dido finished. Aeneas, Jupiter's message
Still ringing in his ears, held his eyes steady
And struggled to suppress the love in his heart.
He finally made this brief reply:

"My Queen,
 I will never deny that you have earned my gratitude,
In more ways than can be said; nor will I ever regret
Having known Elissa, as long as endures
And the spirit still rules these limbs of mine.
I do have a few things to say on my own behalf.
I never hoped to steal away from land
In secret, and you should never imagine I did.
Nor have I ever proposed marriage to you
Or entered into any nuptial agreement.
If the Fates would allow me to lead my own life
And to order my priorities as I see fit,
The welfare of Troy would be my first concern,
And the remnants of my own beloved people.
Priam's palace would still be standing
And Pergamum rising from the ashes of defeat.
But now the oracles of Gryneian Apollo,
Of Lycian Apollo, have commanded with one voice
That the great land of Italy is my journey's end.
There is my love, my country. If the walls
Of Carthage, vistas of a Libyan city,
Have a hold on you, a Phoenician woman,
Why do you begrudge the Trojans
A settlement in Ausonia? We too have the right
To seek a kingdom abroad.

The troubled ghost
Of my father, Anchises, admonishes me
Every night in my dreams, when
Covers the earth, and the fiery stars rise.
And my dear son, Ascanius - am I to wrong him
By cheating him of his inheritance,
A kingdom in Hesperia, his destined land?
And now the gods' herald, sent by Jove himself,
(I swear by your head and mine) come down
Through the rushing winds, ordering me to leave.
I saw the god myself in broad daylight
Entering the walls and heard his very word.
So stop wounding both of us with your pleas.
It is not my own will- this quest for Italy."

While he is speaking she looks him up and down
Wirh icy sidelong glances stare at him blankly,
And then erupt into volcanic fury:

"Your mother was no goddess you faithless bastard
And you aren't descended from Dardanus either.
No you were born out of flint in the Caucasus
And suckled by tiger in the wild of Scythia.
Ah why should I hold back? Did he sigh as I wept?
Did be even look at me? Did he give in to rear
Or show any pity for the woman who loved him?
What shall I say first? What next? It has come to this-
Neither great Juno nor the Saturnian Father
Looks on these things with impartial eye.
Good faith is found nowhere. I took him in
shipwrecked and destitute on my shore
And insanely bared my throne with him.
I recovered his fleet and rescued his men.
Oh, I am whirled by the Furies on burning winds!
And now prophetic Apollo, now the Lycian oracles,
now the gods’ herald, sent by Jupiter himself
Has borne down through the rushing wind
With dread commands! As if the gods lose sleep
Over business like this! Go on leave! I'm not
Arguing with you any more. Sail to Italy
Find your kingdom overseas. But I hope,
If there is any power in heaven you will suck down
Your punishment on rock in mid-ocean,
Calling Dido's name over and over. Gone
I may be but I’ll pursue you with black fire
And when cold death has cloven body from soul,
My ghost will be everywhere. You will pay
You despicable liar, and I will hear the news·
Word will reach me in the deeps of hell."