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GRAPHICS MODE: Main Page The Legend of Dido (Riverside ed.) Sources Analogues |
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925-Be to your name! And I shall, as I can
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Here begins the legend of Dido, martyr, Queen of Carthage. | |
Glory and honor, Virgil of Mantua, | |
Be to your name! And I shall, as I can, | 925 |
Follow your lantern, as you go before, | |
How Aeneas to Dido was forsworn. | |
In your Aeneid and Ovid will I take | |
The tenor, and the great effects make. | |
When Troy brought was to destruction | 930 |
By Greeks’ sleight, and namely by Sinon, | |
Feigning the horse offered unto Minerva, | |
Through which that many a Trojan must perish; | |
And Hector had, after his death, appeared; | |
And fire, so wild it might not been steered, | 935 |
In all the noble towers of Ilium, | |
That of the city was the chief dungeon; | |
And all the country was so low brought, | |
And Priam the king defeated and naught; | |
And Aeneas was charged by Venus | 940 |
To flee away, he took Ascanius, | |
That was his son, in his right hand, and fled; | |
And on his back he bore and with him led, | |
His old father called Anchises, | |
And by the way his wife Creusa he lost. | 945 |
And much sorrow had he in his mind, | |
Or that he could his fellowship find. | |
But at the last, when he had them found, | |
He made him ready in a certain place, | |
And to the sea full fast he began him hasten, | 950 |
Toward Italy, as would his destiny. | |
But of his adventures in the sea | |
Is not to purpose for to speak of here, | |
For it accords not to my matter. | 955 |
But, as I said, of him and of Dido | |
Shall be my tale, till that I have done. | |
So long he sailed in the salty sea | |
Till in Libya barely arrived he, | |
With ships seven and with no more navy; | 960 |
And glad was he to land for to hasten, | |
So was he with the tempest all shaken to bits. | |
And when that he the haven had taken, | |
He had a knight, was called Achates, | |
And him of all his fellowship he chose | 965 |
To go with him, the country for to espy. | |
He took with him no more company, | |
But forth they went, and left his ships ride, | |
His companion and he, without any guide. | |
So long he walks in this wilderness, | 970 |
Till at the last he met an huntress. | |
A bow in hand and arrows had she; | |
Hire clothes cut were unto the knee. | |
But she was yet the fairest creature | |
That ever was formed by Nature; | 975 |
And Aeneas and Achates she greeted, | |
And thus she to them spoke, when she them met: | |
"Saw you," said she, "as you have walked widely, | |
Any of my sisters walk you beside | |
With any wild boar or other best, | 980 |
That they have hunted to, in this forest, | |
Tucked up, with arrows in their case?" | |
"Nay, truly, lady," said this Aeneas; | |
"But by your beauty, as it seems to me, | |
You might never earthly woman be, | 985 |
But Phebus’s sister art thow, as I guess. | |
And, if so be that you be a goddess, | |
Have mercy on our labor and our woe." | |
"I am no goddess, truly," said she then; | |
"For maidens walk in this country here, | 990 |
With arrows and with bow, in this manner. | |
This is the reign of Libya, where you are, | |
Of which that Dido lady is and queen"- | |
And shortly told him all the occasion | |
Why Dido cam into that region, | 995 |
Of which as now me pleases not to rhyme; | |
It needs not, it were but loss of time. | |
For this is all and some, it was Venus, | |
His own mother, that spoke with him thus, | |
And to Carthage she bade he should him direct, | 1000 |
And vanished anon out of his sight. | |
I could follow, word for word, Virgil, | |
But it would last all to long while. | |
This noble queen, that called was Dido, | |
That formerly was the wife of Sichaeus, | 1005 |
That fairer was than is the bright sun, | |
This noble town of Carthage has begun; | |
In which she reigns in so great honor, | |
That she was held of all queens flower, | |
Of gentleness, of freedom, of beauty; | 1010 |
That well was him that might her once see; | |
Of kings and of lords so desired, | |
That all the world her beauty had set afire; | |
She stood so well in every person’s grace. | |
When Aeneas was come unto that place, | 1015 |
Unto the chief temple of all the town, | |
There Dido was in her devotion, | |
Full privily his way then has he taken. | |
When he was in the large temple come, | |
I can not say if that it be possible, | 1020 |
But Venus had him made invisible - | |
Thus says the book, without any lie. | |
And what this Aeneas and Achates | |
Had in this temple been overall, | |
Then found they, depicted on a wall, | 1025 |
How Troy and all the land destroyed was. | |
"Alas, that I was born!" said Aeneas; | |
"Throughout the world our shame is displayed so wide, | |
Now it is painted upon every side. | |
We, that were in prosperity, | 1030 |
Are now slandered, and in such degree, | |
No longer for to live I do not keep." | |
And with that word he burst out for to weep | |
So tenderly that pity it was to see. | |
This fresh lady, of the city queen, | 1035 |
Stood in the temple, in her estate royal, | |
So richly and also so fair withal, | |
So young, so lusty, with her eyes glad, | |
That, if that God, that heaven and earth made, | |
Would have a love, for beauty and goodness, | 1040 |
And womanhood, and troth, and seemliness, | |
Whom should he love but this lady sweet? | |
There is no woman to him half so meet. | |
Fortune, that has the world in governance, | |
Has suddenly brought in so new a chance | 1045 |
That never was there yet so strange a case. | |
For all the company of Aeneas, | |
Which that he thought had lost in the sea, | |
Arrived is not far from that city; | |
For which, some of the greatest of his lords | 1050 |
By adventure be to the city come, | |
Unto that same temple, for to seek | |
The queen, and of her succor to beseech, | |
Such renown was there sprung of her goodness. | |
And when they had told all their distress, | 1055 |
And all their tempest and their hard case, | |
Unto the queen appeared Aeneas, | |
And openly recognized that it was he. | |
Who had joy then but his followers, | |
That had found their lord, their governor? | 1060 |
The queen saw that they did him such honor, | |
And had herd often of Aeneas before then, | |
And in her heart she had pity and woe | |
That ever such a noble man as he | |
Shall be disinherited in such degree; | 1065 |
And saw the man, that he was like a knight, | |
And sufficient of person and of might, | |
And like to been a true gentle man; | |
And well his words he beset can, | |
And had a noble visage for the nonce, | 1070 |
And formed well of brawn and of bones. | |
For after Venus had he such fairness | |
That no man might be half so fair, I guess; | |
And well a lord he seemed for to be. | |
And, for he was a stranger, somewhat she | 1075 |
Liked him the better, as, God help me, | |
To some folk often new thing is sweet. | |
Anon her heart has pity of his woe, | |
And with that pity love come in also; | |
And thus, for pity and for gentleness, | 1080 |
Refreshed must he been of his distress. | |
She said, certainly, that she sorry was | |
That he has had such peril and such chance; | |
And, in her friendly speech, in this manner | |
She to him spoke, and said as you may hear: | 1085 |
"Be you not Venus’s son and Anchises’s? | |
In good faith, all the worship and increase | |
That I may goodly do you, you shall have. | |
Your ships and you followers shall I save." | |
And many a gentle word she spoke him to, | 1090 |
And commanded her messengers to go | |
The same day, without any fail, | |
His ships for to seek, and them supply. | |
Full many a beast she to the ships sent, | |
And with the wine she began them to present, | 1095 |
And to her royal palace she her sped, | |
And Aeneas always with her she led. | |
What needs you the feast to describe? | |
He never better at ease was in his life. | |
Full was the feast of dainties and riches, | 1100 |
Of instruments, of song, and of gladness, | |
Of many an amorous looking and device. | |
This Aeneas is come to paradise | |
Out of the mouth of hell, and thus in joy | |
Remembers him of his estate in Troy. | 1105 |
To dancing chambers full of tapestries, | |
Of rich beds, and of ornaments, | |
This Aeneas is led, after the meat. | |
And with the queen, when that he had sat, | |
And spices departed, and the wine gone, | 1110 |
Unto his chambers was he led anon | |
To take his ease and for to have his rest, | |
With all his folk, to do what so them pleased. | |
There was no courser well bridled none, | |
Nor steed, for the jousting well to go, | 1115 |
Nor large palfrey, easy for the nonce, | |
Nor jewel, fretted full of rich stones, | |
Nor sacks full of gold, of large weight, | |
Nor ruby none, that shined by night, | |
Nor gentle proud falcon heroner, | 1120 |
Nor hound for hart or wild boar or deer, | |
Nor cup of gold, with florins new minted, | |
That in the land of Libya may be gotten, | |
That Dido does not have it Aeneas sent; | |
And all is paid, what that he has spent, | 1125 |
Thus can this queen honorable her guests call, | |
As she that can in freedom surpass all. | |
Aeneas truly also, without lying, | |
Had sent unto his ship, by Achates, | |
After his son, and after rich things, | 1130 |
Both scepter, clothes, brooches, and also rings, | |
Some for to wear, and some for to present | |
To her, that all these noble things him sent; | |
And bade his son how that he should make | |
The presenting, and to the queen it take. | 1135 |
Returned is this Achates again, | |
And Aeneas full blissful is and fain | |
To see his young son Ascanius. | |
But nevertheless, our author tells us, | |
That Cupid, that is the god of love, | 1140 |
At prayer of his mother high above, | |
Had the likeness of the child taken, | |
This noble queen enamored to make | |
Of Aeneas; but, as of that scripture, | |
Be as be may, I take of it no care. | 1145 |
But true is this, the queen has made such cheer | |
Unto this child, that wonder is to hear; | |
And of the present that his father sent | |
She thanked him full often, in good intent. | |
Thus is this queen in pleasance and in joy, | 1150 |
With all these new lusty folk of Troy. | |
And of the deeds has she more inquired | |
Of Aeneas, and all the story learned | |
Of Troy, and all the long day they two | |
Intent on speaking and on playing; | 1155 |
Of which there began to breed such a fire, | |
That silly Dido has now such desire | |
With Aeneas, her new guest, to deal, | |
That she has lost her hue, and also her health. | |
Now to the effect, now to the fruit of all, | 1160 |
Why I have told this story, and tell shall. | |
Thus I begin: it fell upon a night, | |
When that the moon up raised had his light, | |
This noble queen unto her rest went. | |
She sighs sore, and began herself torment; | 1165 |
She lies awake, and tosses about and turns, | |
As do these lovers, as I have heard said. | |
And at the last, unto her sister Anne | |
She made her moan, and right thus spoke she then: | |
"Now, dear sister mine, what may it be | 1170 |
That me aghasts in my dream?" said she. | |
"This new Trojan is so in my thought, | |
For that me seems he is so well wrought, | |
And also so likely for to be a man, | |
And therewith so much good he can, | 1175 |
That all my love and life lies in his care. | |
Have yet not heard him tell his adventure? | |
Now certainly, Anne, if that you advise it me, | |
I would fain to him wedded be; | |
This is the effect; what should I more say? | 1180 |
In him lies all, to do me live or die." | |
Her sister Anne, as she that could her good, | |
Said as her thought, and somewhat it withstood. | |
But hereof was so long a sermoning, | |
It were to long to make rehearsing, | 1185 |
But finally, it may not be withstood: | |
Love will love, for nothing will it cease. | |
The dawning up-rose out of the sea. | |
This amorous queen charges her followers | |
The nets dress, and spears broad and keen; | 1190 |
A-hunting will this lusty fresh queen, | |
So pricks her this new jolly woe. | |
To horse is all her lusty folk gone; | |
Into the court the hounds been brought; | |
And upon coursers, swift as any thought, | 1195 |
Her young knights hover all about, | |
And of her women also a huge route. | |
Upon a thick palfrey, paper-white, | |
With saddle red, embroidered with delight, | |
Of gold the bars up embossed high, | 1200 |
Sits Dido, all in gold and pearls woven; | |
And she as fair as is the bright morning, | |
That heals sick folk of night’s sorrow. | |
Upon a courser startling as the fire - | |
Men might turn him with a little wire - | 1205 |
Sits Aeneas, like Phebus to devise, | |
So was he fresh arrayed in his wise. | |
The foamy bridle with the bit of gold | |
Governs he, right as himself has willed. | |
And forth this noble queen thus let I ride | 1210 |
A-hunting, with this Trojan by her side. | |
The herd of harts found is anon, | |
With "Hay! Hurry up! Spur on! let go, let go! | |
Why will not the lion come, or the bear, | |
That I might once meet him with this spear?" | 1215 |
Thus say these young folk, and up they kill | |
These beasts wild, and have them at their will. | |
Among all this to rumble began the heaven; | |
The thunder roared with a grisly voice; | |
Down cam the rain, with hail and sleet, so fast, | 1220 |
With heaven’s fire, that it so sore aghasts | |
This noble queen, and also her followers, | |
That each of them was glad away to flee. | |
And shortly, from the tempest her to save, | |
She fled herself into a little cave, | 1225 |
And with her went this Aeneas also. | |
I do not know, with them if there went any more; | |
The author makes of it no mention. | |
And here began the deep affection | |
Between them two; this was the first morning | 1230 |
Of their (?her) gladness, and beginning of her (?their) sorrow. | |
For there has Aeneas knelt so, | |
And told her all his heart and all his woe, | |
And swore so deep to her to be true, | |
For well or woe, and change her for no new, | 1235 |
And as a false lover so well can complain, | |
That silly Dido rued on his pain, | |
And took him for husband, and become his wife | |
For evermore, while that them lasts life. | |
And after this, when that the tempest stopped, | 1240 |
With mirth out as they come, home they went. | |
The wicked fame uprose, and that anon, | |
How Aeneas has with the queen gone | |
Into the cave, and deemed as them pleased. | |
And when the king, that Yarbas named, it knew, | 1245 |
As he that had her loved ever his life, | |
And wooed her, to have her to his wife, | |
Such sorrow as he has made, and such cheer, | |
It is a grief and pity for to hear. | |
But, as in love, daily it happens so, | 1250 |
That one shall laugh at another’s woe. | |
Now laughs Aeneas, and is in joy | |
And more riches than ever he was in Troy. | |
O silly women, full of innocence, | |
Full of pity, of troth, and conscience, | 1255 |
What makes you to men to trust so? | |
Have you such pity upon their feigned woe, | |
And have such old examples you before? | |
See you not all how they be forsworn? | |
Where see you one, that he has not left his love, | 1260 |
Or been unkind, or done her some mischief, | |
Or robbed her, or boasted of his deed? | |
You may as well it see, as you may read. | |
Take heed now of this great gentleman, | |
This Trojan, that so well her please can, | 1265 |
That feigns him so true and obedient, | |
So gentle, and so privy of his doing, | |
And can so well do all his obeisances | |
And waits upon her at feasts and at dances, | |
And when she goes to temple and home again, | 1270 |
And fast till he has his lady seen, | |
And bears in his devices, for her sake, | |
I do not know what; and songs would he make, | |
Joust, and do of arms many things, | |
Send her letters, tokens, brooches, rings - | 1275 |
Now harken how he shall his lady serve! | |
Thereas he was in peril for to die | |
For hunger, and for mischief in the sea, | |
And desolate, and fled from his country, | |
And all his folk with tempest all driven about, | 1280 |
She has her body and also her realm given | |
Into his hand, there as she might have been | |
Of other land than of Cartage a queen, | |
And lived in joy enough; what want you more? | |
This Aeneas, that has so deeply sworn, | 1285 |
Is weary of his craft within a throw; | |
The hot earnest is all overblown. | |
And privily he does his ships prepare, | |
And plans him to steal away by night. | |
This Dido has suspicion of this, | 1290 |
And thought well that it was all amiss. | |
For in his bed she lies a-night and sighs; | |
She asks him anon what him displeases- | |
"My dear heart, which that I love most?" | |
"Certainly," said he, "this night my father’s ghost | 1295 |
Has in my sleep so sorely me tormented, | |
And also Mercury his message has presented, | |
That necessarily to the conquest of Italy | |
My destiny is soon for to sail; | |
For which, it seems to me, burst is my heart!" | 1300 |
Therewith his false tears out they started, | |
And takes her within his arms two. | |
"Is that in earnest?" said she, "will you so? | |
Have you not sworn to wife me to take" | |
Alas! what woman will you of me make? | 1305 |
I am a gentle woman and a queen. | |
You will not from your wife thus foully flee? | |
That I was born, alas! What shall I do?" | |
To tell in short, this noble queen Dido, | |
She seeks out shrines and does sacrifice; | 1310 |
She kneels, cries, that pity is to devise; | |
Conjures him, and proffers him to be | |
His thrall, his servant in the least degree; | |
She falls at his foot and swoons there, | |
Dishevelled, with her bright gilt her, | 1315 |
And says, "Have mercy! let me with you ride! | |
These lords, which that dwell me beside, | |
Will me destroy only for your sake. | |
And, so you will me now to wife take, | |
As you have sworn, then will I give you leave | 1320 |
To slay me with your sword now soon at eve! | |
For then yet shall I die as your wife. | |
I am with child, and give my child his life! | |
Mercy, lord! have pity in your thought!" | |
But all this thing avails her right nought, | 1325 |
For on a night, sleeping, he let her lie, | |
And stole away unto his company. | |
And as a traitor forth he began to sail | |
Toward the large country of Italy. | |
Thus he has left Dido in woe and pain, | 1330 |
And wedded there a lady, called Lavinia. | |
A cloth he left, and also his sword standing, | |
When he from Dido stole in her sleeping, | |
Right at her bed’s head, so began he hasten, | |
When that he stole away to his navy; | 1335 |
Which cloth, when silly Dido began awake, | |
She has it kissed full often for his sake, | |
And said, "O sweet cloth, while Jupiter it pleases, | |
Take now my soul, unbind me of this unrest! | |
I have fulfilled of fortune all the course." | 1340 |
And thus, alas! without his soccour, | |
Twenty times swooned has she then. | |
And when that she unto her sister Anne | |
Complained had - of which I may not write, | |
So great a pity I have it for to endite - | 1345 |
And bade her nurse and her sister go | |
To fetch fire and other things anon, | |
And said that she would sacrifice, - | |
And when she might her time well espy, | |
Upon the fire of sacrifice she started, | 1350 |
And with his sword she pierced herself to the heart. | |
But, as mine author says, yet thus she said; | |
Before she was hurt, or before she died, | |
She wrote a letter anon that thus began: | |
"Right so," said she, "as that the white swan | 1355 |
Against his death begins for to sing, | |
Right so to you make I my complaining. | |
Not that I believe to get you again, | |
For well I know that it is all in vain, | |
Since that the gods are contrary to me. | 1360 |
But since my name is lost through you," said she, | |
"I may well loose on you a word or letter, | |
All be it that I shall be never the better; | |
For that same wind that blew your ship away, | |
The same wind has blown away your faith." | |
But who will all this letter have in mind, | 1365 |
Read Ovid, and in him he shall it find. | |
Here ends the legend of Dido, martyr, Queen of Carthage. | |
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