(lines 263-844, 1197-2154)
(translated [from CFMA ed.] by Míceál F. Vaughan [June 1999])
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| In these conditions, the fugitives from Troy | |
| Suffered for three days, so that they had no joy. | |
| When day arrived on the fourth day, | 265 |
| The winds lessened, ceased completely, | |
| The sun rose, and it rained no more, | |
| The sea went entirely calm; | |
| The tempest was assuaged. | |
| Then Eneas lifted up his head | 270 |
| And looked straight in front of him, | |
| And he saw the land of Libya. | |
| He encouraged all his companions; | |
| They rowed with power in that direction. | |
| They rowed and sailed | 275 |
| Until they reached the Libyan harbor; | |
| They landed as soon as they could. | |
| They had only seven of their twenty ships; | |
| These they secured on the beach. | |
| They found the country very wild; | 280 |
| They saw neither cabin nor house | |
| Nor village nor city, only trees; | |
| But nevertheless they were quite pleased. | |
| Eneas went into the forest; | |
| A single boy went with him, | 285 |
| Both carrying their bows, | |
| And hunted deer and wild beasts. | |
| His men carried back many of them. | |
| They made fires on the shore, | |
| And happily prepared to eat | 290 |
| What they had taken from the woods. | |
| Often they looked out to sea | |
| To see if they could spot their ships | |
| That the wind had driven away from them; | |
| They were anxious about them; | 295 |
| But they were even more distressed | |
| About those men they saw in the water, | |
| Whom they did not expect to see again. | |
| They were more hopeful about the others, | |
| But they had no hope for the dead. | 300 |
| They went to watch from the bluffs | |
| And looked long out to sea; | |
| When they saw nothing of them, they greatly feared | |
| That the deep sea had swallowed the ships. | |
| Then Eneas assembled | 305 |
| Those who had come along with him; | |
| Of his company he had with him | |
| No more than a third. | |
| He began to comfort them | |
| For the bad times they had on the sea. | 310 |
| 'Men,' he said, 'noble knights, | |
| Do not be dismayed | |
| If you were afraid | |
| On this sea, or felt troubled or sad; | 315 |
| It will, in the future, delight you, | |
| When you remember it; | |
| It will be a pleasure for you to tell stories | |
| About the bad times you had had at sea. | |
| A man who journeys to another land, | 320 |
| To conquer a kingdom and country, | |
| Cannot achieve very great honor | |
| If he cannot bear up under both good times and bad. | |
| Whoever always gets what he wants | |
| And never experiences evil, | 325 |
| In my opinion, will not know | |
| At any time what 'good' might be; | |
| But if he suffers a little discomfort , | |
| So that he does not get everything that pleases him, | |
| In my opinion, he will treasure | 330 |
| The good later, when he gets it. | |
| Now have we suffered much hardship | |
| On many seas for more than seven years | |
| And we have worked hard out there | |
| And gone hungry and sleepless often; | 335 |
| If we ever get some rest, | |
| A bit of good will please us greatly. | |
| Having suffered hard labor and evil and pain, | |
| If fortune keeps us in hand, | |
| The gods will lead us to the place | 340 |
| That they promised us as a feudal territory, | |
| In Greater Lombardy; | |
| From there our ancestors came. | |
| We are a large group and do not have | |
| Very much in the way of food; | 345 |
| We must seek out supplies. | |
| But I see this is a very uncivilized land; | |
| I do not know if there is any grain here, | |
| Or village or town or city. | |
| I have never seen a wilder place. | 350 |
| If we find nothing here to live on, | |
| There is no reason to stay, | |
| But instead we should return to the sea | |
| And look for another country. | |
| Along with food we'll also need to find | 355 |
| Fresh water, hay and oats | |
| For the horses, who are barely still alive. | |
| Then Eneas chose | |
| Ten brave and hardy knights | |
| Who would go to search the countryside | 360 |
| And would find out to report to him | |
| In what country they had arrived, | |
| If there were people in it, or a grain of wheat. | |
| The messengers who were going to check out | |
| The country set off from there; | 365 |
| The wandered through valleys and mountains, | |
| Through woods and fields; | |
| They wandered far and wide, but did not see anyone | |
| Who could give them any information, | |
| Nothing alive, not even a wild animal. | 370 |
| They wandered far and wide through the thickets | |
| Until they came upon a path; | |
| From this issued a broad road. | |
| The messengers kept on the main road, | |
| Which was very wide, until they saw | 375 |
| The city of Carthage, | |
| Whose fortress Dido controlled. | |
| Lady Dido ruled the country; | |
| She ruled it better than count or marquis; | |
| Never was there a feudal state or kingdom | 380 |
| Better governed by a woman. | |
| She was not born in that country, | |
| But was from the country of Tyre; | |
| Sicheus was the name of her husband. | |
| One of her brothers had had him killed, | 385 |
| Chased his sister into exile, | |
| Because he wanted to control the feudal estate. | |
| She fled from there by sea; | |
| She had a large group of companions, | |
| Carried off a great deal of treasure, | |
| Silks and cloths, silver and gold. | 390 |
| In this territory she arrived; | |
| She came to the prince of the country, | |
| With great ingenuity she went to ask | |
| Him to sell her as much of his land | |
| As the skin of bull would contain, | 395 |
| For which she gave him silver and gold; | |
| And the prince, not expecting trickery | |
| Gave her what she asked for. | |
| Dido cut the skin | |
| Into strips, which were very thin; | 400 |
| With these she got possession of so much land | |
| That she founded a city there; | |
| Then she conquered so much with her wealth, | |
| With her ingenuity, with her prowess, | |
| That she took possession of the whole territory | 405 |
| And the barons submitted to her. | |
| The city was called Carthage, | |
| Set on the coast of Libya. | |
| The sea beats against it there on one side, | |
| So that it never would be assailed from that quarter; | 410 |
| On the other side were pools | |
| And great and broad marshes | |
| And large moats with barbicans, | |
| Made in the Libyan style, | |
| And trenches and palisades, | 415 |
| Fences, barriers, drawbridges. | |
| Before one could reach Carthage, | |
| There were many tight and narrow places. | |
| In a corner, high up toward the shore | |
| There was a large natural outcropping. | 420 |
| There they erected the walls: | |
| The stones were of gray marble, | |
| Of white and of indigo and of red. | |
| With great ingenuity and planning | |
| They were laid completely around the city; | 425 |
| They were all constructed of marble and adamant. | |
| The walls were made with columns, | |
| With pillars and with niches. | |
| With wild beasts, with birds, with flowers, | |
| In marble of a hundred colors | 430 |
| Was the outside of the wall decorated, | |
| Without red and without blue. | |
| All around were made three rows | |
| With very great care, of magnets, | |
| A stone which is extremely hard; | 435 |
| The magnet is of such a nature, | |
| That any man who comes near it in arms | |
| Is pulled toward the stone. | |
| So one who comes near it with a hauberk | |
| Would be pulled immediately toward the wall. | 440 |
| The walls were thick and high, | |
| They feared no assault; | |
| They had five hundred towers on the perimeter | |
| In addition to the main fortress. | |
| Facing the town the walls | 445 |
| Had a triforium, with arches and canopies, | |
| Made entirely of huge blocks of marble; | |
| The road ran underneath. | |
| A great market was held there every day; | |
| There was selling of silk, furs, | 450 |
| Satin blankets, coverlets, | |
| Purple cloth, gowns, colored clothes, | |
| Gems, spices and dishes. | |
| Rich and lovely merchandise | |
| Could be found there at all times; | 455 |
| One could not imagine | |
| Any finery that existed in the world, | |
| Of which there was not a supply in that place. | |
| They had broad streets in the city | |
| And plenty of noble palaces, | 460 |
| Wealthy townsmen, halls and towers | |
| And galleries and parlors. | |
| There was a great supply of beautiful buildings | |
| Within the confines of the city. | |
| It had seven main gates; | 465 |
| A count lived above each one, | |
| He held his fief and his land in exchange: | |
| If war erupted in Carthage, | |
| Each count would have to take up arms | |
| And lead seven hundred knights. | 470 |
| In this sea near Carthage, | |
| Along the coast, there is caught | |
| A kind of fish | |
| Not very large, but small. | |
| They slice these near the tail, | 475 |
| And red drops fall from them; | |
| From this is derived an expensive purple dye. | |
| There are only a few fish of this kind; | |
| They are called concilium. | |
| From the blood of these small fish, | 480 |
| Of which there is a great supply in that place, | |
| From them come the red purple. | |
| They also make black dyes in Carthage | |
| From the blood of a huge water serpent, | |
| Called the crocodile, | 485 |
| Of which there are quite a few on an island. | |
| These are extraordinarily large serpents | |
| And are of a very strange character: | |
| When one has devoured its prey, | |
| Then it falls asleep with its jaws open. | 490 |
| It does not have any digestive tract; | |
| Birds go inside its body | |
| And while it is asleep they feed | |
| On whatever it had earlier eaten. | |
| It doesn't expel wastes otherwise, | 495 |
| For it doesn't produce excrement. | |
| On one side of the city | |
| Dido set her fortress. | |
| It had strong towers and a fine dungeon, | |
| Which feared nothing but a thunderbolt; | 500 |
| No one could damage it at all | |
| In any assault, with spear or arrow, | |
| Nor could any engine damage it | |
| Unless if came from the sky. | |
| The palace was beneath the tower; | 505 |
| Never, by king or emperor, | |
| Was one as fine a this ever seen. | |
| A bushel of precious natural gems | |
| Was set in the wall, | |
| And seven thousand enamels were placed there | 510 |
| On the pillars, on the battlements, | |
| On the gates, on the arches, | |
| On the rafters, on the windows, | |
| On the glass and on the window frames. | |
| Nearby, Dido built a temple, | 515 |
| Where Juno was worshipped. | |
| It was extravagantly rich; | |
| It would be boring to recount | |
| All the features of its construction. | |
| The goddess Juno wanted | 520 |
| Carthage to be the capital of the world | |
| And all the kingdoms which were in it | |
| Would be completely subservient to her, | |
| But she could never achieve this goal. | |
| Destiny had completely different things in mind, | 525 |
| For the gods had decided | |
| That Rome would be the capital. | |
| The Capitol lay to the right, | |
| On one side, outside the castle, | |
| Where the senators, by common decision, | 530 |
| Were set up to hold court, | |
| To preserve justice, and to restrain evil: | |
| This was the place were pleas were heard. | |
| It was made with marvelous ingenuity; | |
| It was very beautiful and spacious inside, | 535 |
| It had two hundred vaults and arches. | |
| Never did any one speak so quietly there, | |
| That he was not heard immediately | |
| Around the entire Capitol. | |
| The twenty-four senators | 540 |
| Were selected there. | |
| Later, a very distant time from then, | |
| Rome obtained the power | |
| That Dido wanted to give Carthage. | |
| This city was not yet | 545 |
| Fully completed; | |
| Still Dido having work done | |
| To reinforce the walls all around. | |
| The messengers traveled very quickly | |
| Until they came into Carthage; | 550 |
| They inquired and asked | |
| Who ruled that city. | |
| People told them that a woman | |
| Was the lady over the entire kingdom. | |
| They inquired where she was; | 555 |
| They went directly according to the directions. | |
| In the castle beneath the tower | |
| They found the lady | |
| In the hall with a large crowd. | |
| The messengers came before her. | 560 |
| Ilioneus, who was very wise | |
| And brave, spoke first; | |
| He greeted her, and then said to her: | |
| 'Lady, listen to us for a moment. | |
| You have surely heard, long ago, | 565 |
| That the Greeks went against the Trojans; | |
| They burned and destroyed the town, | |
| Ruined everything, large and small; | |
| Not a single one of those they were able to capture | |
| Was able to save himself from death. | 570 |
| The city was entirely destroyed. | |
| In Troy there was a noble lord | |
| Of heavenly lineage; | |
| From the great slaughter | |
| That the Greeks carried out at night, | 575 |
| The gods preserved him well. | |
| They got him out of the city; | |
| He had a large company gathered with him. | |
| At their command he was setting out to seek | |
| Italy, a distant land; | 580 |
| We have sought it on the sea for seven years | |
| And we can find it nowhere. | |
| We had a great storm the other day, | |
| Which caused one of our ships to sink, | |
| We saw the men from it drown | 585 |
| And we were separated from a large number | |
| Of other ships, and we do no know | |
| If they are already drowned or not. | |
| The smaller part has arrived | |
| Very near here in your country; | 590 |
| Eneas has remained there, | |
| Where he is waiting for his ships; | |
| He has sent us to you here, | |
| So that he might be safe in your country, | |
| And not have to defend himself from your people, | 595 |
| As long as there is storm and wind, | |
| And until he has fixed his ships a little, | |
| That the storm has damaged.' | |
| Dido replied to the messenger. | |
| 'I know well,' she said, 'the great loss | 600 |
| And destruction of the Trojans; | |
| I heard a great deal about it long ago. | |
| You who were saved from that | |
| Have suffered more since then; | |
| Never since have you been free from sorrow, | 605 |
| Are in great need of a rest. | |
| If you wish to rest here, | |
| To repair and fix your ships, | |
| Have no fear, I promise you, | |
| Of any people in this country; | 610 |
| Be confident, have no fear. | |
| If Eneas wants to come here, | |
| I will look after him in my city; | |
| What is mine will be given over to him. | |
| I was even more distraught, | 615 |
| When I came into this country, | |
| For I am not from this land. | |
| For my part, I know--I understand it well-- | |
| I ought certainly have pity | |
| On a man, if I see him disconsolate. | 620 |
| If Eneas wants to rest here | |
| And remain for a short stay, | |
| He will not have to spend a penny | |
| For a single thing he needs. | |
| I will have him fully supplied from my possessions | 625 |
| And I will give him more when he departs; | |
| I will do more for him than I tell you. | |
| If in the end he should want to remain here, | |
| And if he should abandon the pursuit | |
| Of the folly that he is seeking out, | 630 |
| He may have a part of my territory | |
| For himself and his companions; | |
| My people and his will be one. | |
| If he should want to live together with me, | |
| I will not hold the Tyrians more dear | 635 |
| Than I will the Trojans. | |
| Go back to him on the shore, quickly, | |
| And tell him that he should come | |
| To Carthage to lodge with me; | |
| He is completely worn out with sailing.' | 640 |
| The messengers took their leave, | |
| And returned to their lord full of joy. | |
| Eneas saw them far away, | |
| Went to meet them and said to them: | |
| 'What have you found?' 'Our good fortune.' 'Where?' | 645 |
| 'Carthage.' 'Did you speak with the king?' | |
| 'No.' "Why not?' 'They don't have a lord there.' | |
| 'What then?' 'Dido controls the realm.' | |
| 'Did you speak with her?' 'Yes.' | |
| 'Does she threaten us?' 'Certainly not.' | 650 |
| 'And what did she say then?' 'She promised us good, | |
| "Be confident, don't be afraid." | |
| That's what the Tyrian lady says, | |
| And if you wish to remain and rest | |
| In this Libyan territory, | 655 |
| To repair and restore your ships, | |
| You ought to fear nothing, | |
| For she offers you every assurance. | |
| Through us she offers you rest | |
| Together with her in her tower; | 660 |
| Her assistance will not fail you, | |
| As long as you will be pleased to take it.' | |
| While the messengers | |
| Were going around searching the countryside, | |
| Their ships, which they thought were lost, | 665 |
| Came to the harbor. | |
| Each of them was at anchor; | |
| All were there except one, | |
| Which they had lost during the storm, | |
| For which on earth they had no expectation. | 670 |
| Eneas was especially joyful | |
| At the news which he heard, | |
| And at his ships, of which he had all but one. | |
| Fortune was very kind to him: | |
| Fortune, which had previously been attacking him, | 675 |
| Was now encouraging him. | |
| For this reason, one ought not to give up hope | |
| If he must endure evil; | |
| And, likewise, if he has all his desires, | |
| Then he ought not be overjoyed: | 680 |
| Neither too dismayed by great evil, | |
| Nor too happy at great good fortune; | |
| Completely unmoved, by both one or the other. | |
| No good thing, nor an evil, lasts forever. | |
| Fortune turns in a very short time: | 685 |
| One who smiles in the morning, weeps at night: | |
| She is ugly at night, beautiful in the morning. | |
| As she turns her wheel, | |
| She puts one on top one day, | |
| On the bottom the next: | 690 |
| The higher she has put him, | |
| The farther he falls down. | |
| Eneas talked to his barons | |
| About the lady's offer and her response, | |
| And what message she had sent him: | 695 |
| That he should go to her in her city. | |
| They all, collectively, advised him | |
| That he should go there quickly, | |
| And he did so, did not delay. | |
| He got himself well decked out | 700 |
| And mounted a palfrey; | |
| Seven score rode along with him, | |
| And they rode straight off to Carthage, | |
| Led by the messengers | |
| Who had been there earlier. | 705 |
| He arrived at the city before mid-afternoon. | |
| His men went ahead of him | |
| And rode two by two; | |
| Townsmen, ladies and knights | |
| On the streets and at the windows | 710 |
| Came to look at them with wonder. | |
| There was no need to ask | |
| Who was the master of this company: | |
| Without any of them having heard a word, | |
| They recognized immediately the king. | 715 |
| Each one identified him to another with his finger; | |
| He was very good-looking and stately | |
| And a strong and well-built knight; | |
| To all he seemed the most handsome of them. | |
| He went to dismount at the castle; | 720 |
| Dido came before him; | |
| He went forward, and greeted her. | |
| She took him by the right hand; | |
| In a window nook | |
| They sat, far from the others. | 725 |
| She asked how he was, | |
| And he told a long story, | |
| About his wanderings and his coming there. | |
| When he had told her everything, | |
| He called his chamberlain, | 730 |
| Sent him back to the ships | |
| For his son, who had remained there; | |
| He asked that he be brought very quickly | |
| And ordered that three bits of finery | |
| That he had be brought. | 735 |
| He inwardly thought that he would give them | |
| To the queen of Carthage, | |
| Who had made him feel so welcome. | |
| He had a spectacular brooch, | |
| More precious than any other, | 740 |
| And a cloak that was very expensive. | |
| Its fur was checkered, | |
| From a wild animal of a hundred colors; | |
| All the edges were nicely trimmed | |
| With others more valuable and fine, | 745 |
| In front and on the hem below. | |
| The lining was very costly | |
| And the covering was worth even more: | |
| The outside was embroidered all over in gold. | |
| The fasteners alone and the buckles | 750 |
| And the buttons and tassels | |
| Were worth more than three castles. | |
| He had also a gown there | |
| That would be suitable for a queen: | |
| It was purple, sparkling with gold. | 755 |
| King Priam had put these garments | |
| For safe keeping in his treasury, | |
| When he was about to be crowned; | |
| His wife Hecuba wore them | |
| On the day of his coronation. | 760 |
| The chamberlain came back, | |
| Having accomplished, in a very short time, | |
| What his master had told him | |
| Eneas's mother knew and saw | |
| That her son was in Carthage; | 765 |
| In her heart she was much afraid | |
| That they would threaten him with evil: | |
| He was among a savage people. | |
| She held the power of love; | |
| When she saw that her son had sent for his, | 770 |
| She took him gently in her arms, | |
| She kissed him very warmly. | |
| With this kiss she gave him | |
| Great power to inspire love: | |
| Whoever will kiss him after that | 775 |
| Will be caught by the fire of love. | |
| Venus said to those who were taking him | |
| That no man or woman should kiss him, | |
| Except the queen and Eneas. | |
| They set off immediately. | 780 |
| Ascanius and his companions | |
| Came to his father in Carthage. | |
| He had him present to Dido | |
| Those things he had had him bring. | |
| She accepted them with great thanks, | 785 |
| Took the rich gift; | |
| She did not value it as much for its own worth, | |
| As for the person who gave it to her. | |
| The lady and all the Tyrians | |
| Inspected the Trojan gift; | 790 |
| They all considered it a marvel. | |
| They talked about it a lot, and with great energy, | |
| And they did not know, among themselves, | |
| How to choose which of them to value more. | |
| When they had examined the cloak | 795 |
| They praised it as a spectacular piece, | |
| And, when they looked at the gown, | |
| They considered the cloak a trifle; | |
| And when the brooch came along, | |
| They considered all the others not worth an egg. | 800 |
| The queen sent them | |
| To her chamber, then summoned | |
| The child, who had come to his father; | |
| She embraced him, held him softly, | |
| Kissed him very warmly. | 805 |
| She looked after herself very badly: | |
| She was acting very foolishly who touched him | |
| About his face and mouth. | |
| Venus had set her flame there; | |
| Dido took him in her arms, and she caught fire. | 810 |
| The lady drank a fatal poison, | |
| Did not recognize it, to her great sorrow; | |
| With the kiss she caught such a passion | |
| Of love that her body burned up. | |
| Then Eneas kissed him | 815 |
| And then Dido did so immediately again: | |
| Love flickered from one to the other. | |
| Each drank of it deeply in turn; | |
| Whoever kissed him more drank more of it. | |
| Dido was the more foolish, | 820 |
| She caught a fatal madness from it. | |
| Now love has her in deep distress. | |
| The queen had devoted herself so long | |
| To kissing him, that soon it was night | |
| And time for supper. | 825 |
| First they were called to wash, | |
| And then seated for dinner. | |
| It would be boring to detail | |
| And enumerate all the dishes, | |
| Which came often and in great amounts, | 830 |
| And to name the wines and spices. | |
| But each one had enough of them; | |
| They were all very well looked after, | |
| And when the meal was over, | |
| The servants took away the tablecloths. | 835 |
| In the palace it was very bright: | |
| There were so many candles, the light would never | |
| Have been greater by day. | |
| Dido remained at the head table; | |
| Her barons there had high reputation; | 840 |
| The rest of her household had departed. | |
| She begged her guest to tell her | |
| About the destruction of Troy, | |
| And to narrate the treachery. | |
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| When Eneas had told her the story, | |
| The queen was struck with wonder | |
| At the evils, the sorrows and the losses | |
| And the pains that he had suffered. | 1200 |
| She looked at him kindly | |
| As Love constrained her. | |
| Love spurs her, Love persuades her, | |
| She often sighs and changes color. | |
| When it was time for bed, | 1205 |
| She has the beds prepared; | |
| She led him to the bedroom | |
| Where the beds were ready | |
| With blankets and fine linen. | |
| Very tired, he went to bed; | 1210 |
| The queen was there as he pulls up the sheets, | |
| Only with great reluctance was she able to leave. | |
| Four counts led her away; | |
| She is brought into her chamber; | |
| A hundred noble damsels are there, | 1215 |
| Daughters of counts and kings; | |
| There isn't one who is not a nobleman's daughter; | |
| They take care of the queen as she goes to bed. | |
| When the chamber has grown quiet, | |
| Lady Dido is not forgetful | 1220 |
| Of him for whom the god of love | |
| Has now put her in great distress; | |
| She begins to think about him, | |
| And to recall in her heart | |
| His appearance, his body and his form, | 1225 |
| His words, his deeds, his conversation, | |
| The battles that he told her about. | |
| There was no benefit from her lying in bed; | |
| She turned and turned again very often. | |
| She faints and revives, | 1230 |
| Gasps, sighs and yawns, | |
| Is greatly upset and troubled, | |
| Trembles, shivers and shakes: | |
| Her heart fails her and deserts her. | |
| The lady is in very bad circumstances, | 1235 |
| And when she forgets herself, | |
| She thinks that they lie together, | |
| That she holds him naked in her arms; | |
| She thinks she embraces him in her arms. | |
| She doesn't know how to cover or disguise her love. | 1240 |
| She embraces her blanket, | |
| She finds in that neither comfort nor love; | |
| She kisses her pillow a thousand times, | |
| For love of the knight. | |
| She thinks that he, who is absent, | 1245 |
| Is instead present in her bed: | |
| He is not there, he is elsewhere. | |
| She speaks to him as if she can hear him. | |
| In her bed she reaches out her hand and seeks him; | |
| Not finding him, she beats herself with her fists. | 1250 |
| She weeps and make loud moans, | |
| She dampens her sheets with her tears. | |
| The queen tosses and turns, | |
| First face down, then on her back. | |
| She cannot save herself, she is very upset, | 1255 |
| She spends the night in trouble and pain; | |
| She is upset in many ways. | |
| She doesn't know who has trapped her: | |
| She has drunk a fatal poison. | |
| She doesn't realize who the child was | 1260 |
| Whom she held and embraced, | |
| Who had inflicted this passion on her. | |
| She cannot avoid the anxieties | |
| That last throughout the night; | |
| She thinks she will never see day again. | 1265 |
| When she was able to catch a glimpse of it, | |
| At the crack of dawn, she got up; | |
| She summoned no chambermaid, | |
| And no woman-in-waiting. | |
| She was inflamed with fatal passion, | 1270 |
| Felt the great afflictions of the fires of love. | |
| She came wandering to her sister. | |
| 'Anna, I'm dying; I will not survive, sister.' | |
| 'What's the matter then?' 'My heart is broken.' | |
| 'Are you ill?' 'I'm completely healthy.' | 1274a |
| 'What's the matter then?' 'I am weak with love; | 1274b |
| I cannot conceal it, I'm in love.' 'With whom?' | 1275 |
| 'I'll tell you; I swear it's him....' | |
| And when she was about to speak his name, | |
| She fainted, and wasn't able to speak. | |
| When she recovered from her faint, | |
| She began again to give her explanation: | 1280 |
| 'He who has suffered such great evil-- | |
| The Trojan lord, that is-- | |
| Whom fortune has sent into exile | |
| And who came into this land yesterday. | |
| I think that he is from a high family | 1285 |
| And from a heavenly lineage; | |
| From everything it is quite clear that he is noble. | |
| And his son is exceptionally courteous; | |
| With holding and kissing him | |
| I couldn't be satiated yesterday evening. | 1290 |
| Never since I left Tyre, | |
| When my lord Sicheus died, | |
| Do I have any memory of love. | |
| Until this very day he arrived, | |
| I never saw a man of any age-- | 1295 |
| No matter how noble, brave or wise he was-- | |
| To whom I could have shown any hint | |
| Of this feeling, more or less, | |
| Except for this one alone, whom destiny | |
| Led into my country. | 1300 |
| He has inflamed my heart; | |
| He has afflicted me now with a fatal passion; | |
| For him I am definitely about to die. | |
| If I had not promised my spouse | |
| My life-long love, | 1305 |
| I would make him my lover; | |
| But since I have entrusted it to him, | |
| It will never be violated by this one. | |
| I would prefer to die than betray him, | |
| Than place my affection in another; | 1310 |
| I want to protect it and keep my word. | |
| May the earth open up beneath me | |
| And swallow me down alive, | |
| Or may fire from heaven consume me entirely, | |
| Before to another I give my love, | 1315 |
| Which I promised to my lord. | |
| I gave it to him, and he had it and still does, | |
| And he will not be done wrong to by me. | |
| I don't have any need of another's love, | |
| For as long as I may live. | 1320 |
| I have nothing to do with this man; | 1320a |
| I never saw him nor knew anything about him, | 1320b |
| Except for what I have heard people say about him. | |
| I heard him called Eneas....' | |
| When she remembered him, said his name, | |
| She went pale, and fainted, | |
| So that she almost died. | 1325 |
| Anna, her sister, comforted her: | |
| 'Lady, why are you dying so miserably? | |
| This love amounts to nothing, | |
| That you have for your lord: | |
| He is dead, and has been for many days. | 1330 |
| Your youth is passing away in sorrow, | |
| No affection will ever come to him, | |
| From him you will never have a child | |
| Nor sweet love nor sweet looks, | |
| Nor protection nor help. | 1335 |
| This is a very foolish love. | |
| Since he cannot ever do you any good, | |
| Why do you want to take the bad for his sake? | |
| You will never have anything good from the dead: | |
| Take you pleasure from the living. | 1340 |
| For the dead there is no recovery: | |
| Turn your desires to the living. | |
| Foolish is one who pays attention to the dead; | |
| I know that it's true, and I have heard others say: | |
| Let the dead keep with the dead, | 1345 |
| The living with the living, that is proper. | |
| Who will keep your city, | |
| Your territory, your inherited property? | |
| A feudal state or kingdom cannot be for long | |
| Well maintained by a woman; | 1350 |
| She accomplishes little with her commands, | |
| If they have no other weight behind them; | |
| She cannot sustain great costs, | |
| If it is necessary to wage war. | |
| This is a foreign land for you; | 1355 |
| On all sides war surrounds you; | |
| All the barons of this territory | |
| You have made your enemies, | |
| For you have considered no man | |
| Of this feudal state worthy to be your lord. | 1360 |
| You held them beneath you; | |
| Because of this they have despised you, | |
| Attack you on many sides, | |
| Will destroy you sooner or later. | |
| Since you have fallen in love with this man, | 1365 |
| Make him your lord; | |
| He will keep you in your great feudal state, | |
| For he has very great strength. | |
| I assure you, God led him | |
| Into this territory for your benefit. | 1370 |
| Since you were overtaken with love for him, | |
| Do you think you can overcome that in any way? | |
| You cannot do anything against love. | |
| If you take him as your lord, | |
| Your followers will increase greatly; | 1375 |
| Carthage will be raised up by it. | |
| You can say, to cover yourself, | |
| He might stay with us this winter season | |
| And make his ships seaworthy, | |
| For it is not now a time for going to sea, | 1380 |
| And you can easily keep him here; | |
| Later you can do what you really want.' | |
| The lady was already very inflamed | |
| And her sister only increased it; | |
| She was completely consumed in the fire of love, | 1385 |
| And this made it even more powerful. | |
| She has brought her poor comfort. | |
| If she had not already had the desire for him | |
| And had never loved him, | |
| This would have inspired it in her. | 1390 |
| With love the queen is infatuated; | |
| She does not cease nor finish. | |
| She takes by the hand the Trojan, | |
| Of whose love she is not yet certain; | |
| She leads him through the city, | 1395 |
| And shows him her rich properties | |
| And her castle and her palace. | |
| She cannot remain at peace for a single hour, | |
| And she often talks very seriously to him | |
| About a thousand things which don't concern him; | 1400 |
| She does not ask questions, | |
| Except to have an opportunity to speak to him. | |
| She asks him things a thousand times; | |
| She neither finishes nor rests. | |
| She stops in the middle of her stories; | 1405 |
| She does not know what she says or does; | |
| She completely loses her sense and her words. | |
| Love has made a fool out of her wisdom. | |
| She used to rule her land well | |
| And to wage war well; | 1410 |
| Now she has put all this completely aside | |
| And has forgotten it in her idiocy. | |
| Love has caused her to forget | |
| To preserve and protect her land. | |
| If enemies devastate her land, | 1415 |
| She would not favor peace over war; | |
| She pays attention to nothing at all, | |
| Except the love which attacks her so forcefully, | |
| And she has completely left her people | |
| Without any strong support. | 1420 |
| They have neither strength nor help from her, | |
| They do not go up on the walls or towers, | |
| And no one pays any attention to work, | |
| Leaving the walls in disrepair, | |
| In one place high, in another low. | 1425 |
| She has given up everything because of Eneas; | |
| She has left kingdom neglected. | |
| She has no men who do not complain; | |
| The Tyrians have been unseated | |
| By her hospitality toward the Trojan. | 1430 |
| She who should protect her feudal state | |
| Has completely given it up for her love. | |
| The queen was in such travail | |
| And such pain for a week; | |
| She had no rest, night or day, | 1435 |
| And did not close her eyes in sleep. | |
| She was in sorrow and great distress; | |
| She did not know how to talk to the knight. | |
| She will never be cured for a long time, | |
| If she does not take a different tack: | 1440 |
| She must either die from it | |
| Or admit her love to the knight. | |
| She suffered this anguish for a long time, | |
| But did not dare tell him openly about it. | |
| One morning it pleased her especially | 1445 |
| To go hunting in the forest, | |
| In order to distract herself from her sorrow, | |
| So that she could forget her love. | |
| For love is a very troublesome thing, | |
| When one is at leisure and relaxed, | 1450 |
| And whoever wants to be well set free from it, | |
| Ought not to relax at all. | |
| If one wants to distance oneself from it, | |
| It is necessary for him to have other interests, | |
| For when one's attention is elsewhere, | 1455 |
| One remembers love more belatedly. | |
| She called for her hunters, | |
| And had her horses saddled. | |
| They took their bows, horns and hunting hounds, | |
| Dogs and trackers and leash-dogs. | 1460 |
| The town echoed with these preparations, | |
| With the barking of the dogs and the disarray; | |
| Servants came from all sides, | |
| Carried bows, quivers, and arrows; | |
| The household was very excited. | 1465 |
| The queen was dressed | |
| In expensive red purple, | |
| Banded with gold in a spectacular fashion | |
| All over the body as far as her hips | |
| And similarly all along the sleeves. | 1470 |
| She wore a costly cloak, | |
| Sprinkled with drops of gold; | |
| It was ribboned with threads of gold, | |
| And her head was encircled with a gold band. | |
| She had a quiver of gold brought along | 1475 |
| That she had had taken from her treasury; | |
| She had a hundred arrowheads of pure gold: | |
| The arrows were made of mountain ash. | |
| In her hand she takes a bow of laburnum | |
| And then descends from the tower; | 1480 |
| She leads three dukes from the hall; | |
| The great lords descend after her. | |
| Sir Eneas, her lover, waits for her | |
| At the bottom of the steps with all his people; | |
| When he sees the Tyrian lady, | 1485 |
| She appeared to him as if she were Diana: | |
| She was an extremely beautiful huntress, | |
| In all respects resembled the goddess closely. | |
| When she sees him, because of her love | |
| Her color altered. | 1490 |
| She goes down the steps | |
| And her horse is readied, | |
| Covered all over with gold and gems. | |
| Her lover assists her in mounting. | |
| The Trojan is very well prepared | 1495 |
| For going into the woods: | |
| The horn around his neck, the bow in his hand. | |
| He gave no sign of being lower class; | |
| He would have seemed to you like Phoebus. | |
| He mounted, did not delay a bit, | 1500 |
| By the reins led the lady, | |
| Who was in great distress because of her love. | |
| Her guide pleased her greatly; | |
| Riding, they went into the forest, | |
| Where they took lots of venison. | 1505 |
| They hunted until midday; | |
| Then suddenly there arose | |
| A very great storm and a great tempest. | |
| It thundered and rained, became very dark; | |
| None of them felt at all safe there. | 1510 |
| Fleeing, they went off in various directions; | |
| The strongest turned into cowards there, | |
| The bravest trembled with fear. | |
| No two remained together, | |
| Except the queen and Eneas: | 1515 |
| These two did not separate. | |
| He did not abandon her, nor she him. | |
| They went fleeing both together, | |
| Until they came to a grotto. | |
| There the two of them dismounted. | 1520 |
| The two of them are together; | |
| He does with her what seems right to him, | |
| But he does not use much force, | |
| And the queen does not resist. | |
| Her will consents entirely with his | 1525 |
| Because she has desired him a long time. | |
| Now is love uncovered. | |
| Never since the death of her lord | |
| Has the lady done anything shameful. | |
| They return to Carthage. | 1530 |
| She exhibits very great happiness, | |
| And she does not hide it, neither more nor less; | |
| She shows herself very joyous and happy. | |
| She announces that she will be his wife; | |
| Thus she covers her crime. | 1535 |
| She doesn't care any longer what anyone says; | |
| Coming and going, | |
| She does with him all she desires. | |
| The rumor spreads over the country | |
| That Eneas has dishonored her. | 1540 |
| Rumor is a marvelous thing, | |
| It never finishes nor rests; | |
| She has a thousand mouths with which to talk, | |
| A thousand eyes, a thousand wings for flying, | |
| A thousand ears with which she listens | 1545 |
| So that she might hear some marvel | |
| That she could send forward as news. | |
| She never stops hanging around, waiting. | |
| If she knows this or that about something, | |
| She makes a great deal of very little; | 1550 |
| She inflates it more and more, | |
| While she goes both up and down. | |
| She causes false things to be inflated | |
| As quickly as true ones; | |
| Of a small thing she makes many stories, | 1555 |
| Always inflating it, wherever she goes. | |
| Out of one particle of truth she tells lies so great | |
| That it takes on the appearance of a dream, | |
| And she sets about multiplying it so much, | |
| That there is hardly any truth left in it. | 1560 |
| First she speaks sweetly | |
| And in absolute secret, | |
| And then she goes about shouting her story; | |
| The higher she goes. the more loudly she speaks. | |
| When she has discovered some little thing, | 1565 |
| She proclaims it with unrestrained voice. | |
| Throughout Libya this rumor announces | |
| The crime of the lady; | |
| It says that a man had come | |
| From Troy, that Dido has kept him | 1570 |
| Together with herself in Carthage; | |
| Now he keeps her here in shame. | |
| Both spend the winter season | |
| In lust, about which they have no regret. | |
| The lady sets asides her responsibilities for this, | 1575 |
| She thinks of scarcely any thing else, | |
| And he has given up on his journey for this, | |
| And the one and the other are acting foolishly. | |
| The lady is much defamed | |
| All over the country of Libya; | 1580 |
| Her name has been exalted in evil. | |
| When the barons hear what's being said, | |
| The dukes, the princes, the counts, | |
| Whom she was previously unwilling to take as lord, | |
| Consider themselves very much shamed, | 1585 |
| Since she has completely rejected them | |
| For a man of the lowest status, | |
| Who was neither a count nor a king. | |
| Among themselves they say--and they are right-- | |
| It is only a great fool who believes a woman: | 1590 |
| She does not keep her word. | |
| Such a woman considers wise what is foolish; | |
| She said that she had promised her love | |
| To her lord, who is dead, | |
| And she would not take it back during his life; | 1595 |
| Now another has had his way with her, | |
| Now she has betrayed her promise, | |
| Has trespassed the agreement | |
| That she had pledged to her lord. | |
| Foolish is anyone who trusts in a woman. | 1600 |
| Very quickly has she forgotten the dead, | |
| No matter how much she might have loved him; | |
| Now she takes all her delight in the living, | |
| Sends the dead off with indifference. | |
| Now Dido has what she wanted: | 1605 |
| She does what she wants with the Trojan | |
| And does what she desires completely in the open. | |
| Now he takes her without concealment, | |
| Has put his responsibilities in the back of his mind | |
| And has completely abandoned his voyage; | 1610 |
| He does not want ever to part from her. | |
| She thinks to keep him a long time. | |
| He is completely delivered to misfortune, | |
| And takes the land and lady as his own. | |
| One day he was in Carthage, | 1615 |
| A messenger came from the gods, | |
| That commanded him on their behalf | |
| That he leave behind this distraction | |
| And set himself on the way to Lombardy, | |
| Make his navy ready, | 1620 |
| Abandon the Tyrian lady, | |
| The whole land of Libya. | |
| This is not his land nor his feudal territory, | |
| There is another in the providence of the gods. | |
| Eneas was very much dismayed | 1625 |
| At what he announced to him, | |
| Knew that he could not remain, | |
| That he must set himself on the his way. | |
| He felt much grief at departing | |
| And at abandoning the lady; | 1630 |
| He is very pensive, sad and uncertain, | |
| Filled with anxieties on both sides. | |
| He cannot set aside even a miniscule part | |
| Of the word of the gods or their command, | |
| And he is very hesitant to leave | 1635 |
| The lady, fearing she might kill herself. | |
| He fears that the great reversal would destroy her, | |
| And nevertheless he does not know what to do | |
| About what the gods commanded | |
| But he considered himself very perplexed | 1640 |
| Whether he should declare it to the lady | |
| Or whether he should take himself off in secret: | |
| He was afraid, if he told her, she would delay him | |
| And would force him to stay with her too long. | |
| He had his ships well prepared; | 1645 |
| He wanted to go from there in secret. | |
| He had firmly admonished his people, | |
| Knowing that at the first breeze | |
| He would be leaving there with his navy. | |
| His companions were quite exhilarated at this, | 1650 |
| For this delay had made them anxious; | |
| Each of them greatly desired getting underway. | |
| Not a one of them was pleased at the stay there, | |
| Except the one who had been at his ease; | |
| Staying would have much pleased him, | 1655 |
| But he, of necessity, would go away from there, | |
| As the gods had instructed him. | |
| He had his ships outfitted in secret | |
| With whatever was needed by them; | |
| He planned to deceive the lady. | 1660 |
| But the queen noticed it, | |
| For one who loves always suspects, | |
| Is in doubt and fear, | |
| Is never secure, neither night nor day. | |
| Rumor holds back for nothing at all, | 1665 |
| And uncovered it to the lady; | |
| She recounted the treachery to her | |
| That the knight had made preparations: | |
| How he had outfitted his ships, | |
| Wanted to flee from there in secret. | 1670 |
| When the queen learned this, | |
| She did not rest after that hour | |
| When she heard of the treachery | |
| Until she had spoken with him. | |
| She sat down beside him, sighed, | 1675 |
| And weeping asked him: | |
| 'Tell me, knight, where I have ever done wrong, | |
| That you should kill me?' 'What is this about, now?' | |
| 'Aren't you having your ships outfitted?' | |
| 'I?' 'Yes, you want to flee from me.' | 1680 |
| 'Instead, I will be going from here very openly.' | |
| 'Why have you, then, deceived me? | |
| Would you abandon me in this way?' | |
| 'I can no longer remain here.' | |
| 'Why?' she asked. 'The gods don't wish it." | 1685 |
| 'Oh alas, what a disaster! | |
| Why am I not killed as a result? | |
| I'll be damned for having taken good care of you, | |
| With the friendly glances, the fine hospitality, | |
| That I have given you in Carthage. | 1690 |
| I will not hold back from saying this to you: | |
| You planned a great crime | |
| And an extraordinary treason, | |
| When you wanted, like a thief, | |
| To depart from me and take yourself away. | 1695 |
| How could you have planned it | |
| And not straight out requested my permission to go, | |
| And not had pity on me, | |
| And not let me know it directly from you? | |
| Trojans are betrayers of their oaths! | 1700 |
| Are these the recompense and thanks | |
| That I have deserved from you? | |
| Since Dido, who must die for it, | |
| Is no longer able to keep you back | |
| Neither can alliance nor love | 1705 |
| Nor fine service nor pity. | |
| Do you want, then, to commit such a mad act | |
| As to set out on the sea in such a storm? | |
| It is winter, the weather is very ugly, | |
| To set sail now makes no sense. | 1710 |
| Let winter pass first; | |
| Then the sea will be calmer. | |
| I want to pray you by all the gods, | |
| Who are too cruel toward me, | |
| By the love, by the alliance | 1715 |
| That is pledged between us, | |
| That you take pity on me. | |
| You would commit a very great sin, | |
| If I die because of your crime | |
| And you were to offer no comfort. | 1720 |
| These men that I have not been willing to have | |
| As lord hate me for loving you; | |
| There is no baron in this territory | |
| Who is not my enemy on account of you. | |
| They all want to take away my inheritance. | 1725 |
| I must fear so many enemies very much; | |
| I will have no assistance, near or far. | |
| You are failing me in this need. | |
| They will throw me from this land, | |
| And I will not need to wage war against them first. | 1730 |
| About this I am at a loss, whether I can do it; | |
| But your love, which presses hard on me, | |
| Turns even more against me. | |
| If this desire that I now experience | |
| Does not change, I will live no longer. | 1735 |
| I am very much dejected at this departure, | |
| Nor do I think to have any escape from death, | |
| For I will have nothing to give me comfort. | |
| If I had a child by you, | |
| Who would be like you, even a little, | 1740 |
| Whom I could kiss in your place | |
| And put my arms around and embrace | |
| And who would comfort me in your place, | |
| It seems to me that I would be better off. | |
| But it seems to me, I will have nothing | 1745 |
| That gives me comfort or benefit. | |
| I am quite certain of dying, | |
| When I see you go away from me. | |
| Sire, why do you betray me?' | |
| 'I have not, truly, my love.' | 1750 |
| 'Have I ever done you any wrong?' | |
| 'You have not done me anything but good.' | |
| 'Did I destroy Troy?' 'No, the Greeks did.' | |
| 'Was it for me?' 'No, for the Gods.' | |
| 'Did I kill your father?' | 1755 |
| 'No, lady, I assure you.' | |
| 'Sire, why then do you flee from me?' | |
| 'It's not for my own sake.' 'For whose then?' | |
| 'The gods', who have commanded me, | |
| Who have fated and destined, | 1760 |
| That I must go from here to Lombardy; | |
| There I must restore Troy. | |
| Thus they have said and destined it; | |
| For, if this were my own choice, | |
| And there had been no ordinance | 1765 |
| But my own alone, | |
| Which I issued for my own sake, it's my opinion | |
| I would not be going suddenly from this territory. | |
| If it were not the will of the gods, | |
| That I should govern anyone who remained | 1770 |
| After the slaughter by the Greeks, | |
| That I should restore the walls of Troy, | |
| And if it might be done to please myself, | |
| I would not seek to part from you. | |
| The departure is an unwilling one; | 1775 |
| It's not for my own sake, do not think that of me. | |
| I know well that you have treated me | |
| Very richly, Your Highness; | |
| You saw me disconsolate, | |
| Had mercy and pity on me. | 1780 |
| If I cannot repay you for that, | |
| I will never be able to forget it; | |
| I will remember it as long as I live, | |
| Will love you above every other thing. | |
| If I go from this territory, | 1785 |
| It is not for my own sake, I assure you. | |
| Set aside this complaining, | |
| For you will overcome nothing with it, | |
| But you will only upset me | |
| And do yourself damage.' | 1790 |
| She looked at him askance. | |
| Out of anger her face grew pale, | |
| Often changed color, | |
| As love tormented her; | |
| Love had completely inflamed her. | 1795 |
| She spoke like a madwoman: | |
| 'Never were you born the child of a god, | |
| For you are extremely wicked and cruel; | |
| Nor were you begotten by a man. | |
| Rather, you were born of stone; | 1800 |
| Wild tigers nursed you | |
| Or other wild beasts. | |
| You were never born of man, I believe, | |
| Since you have no pity on me; | |
| You have a heart hard and closed up, | 1805 |
| With nothing in it that feels pity. | |
| Ah alas! What else can I say? | |
| Since I cannot have him, I will let him go; | |
| I speak aimlessly, since he does not hear me, | |
| And he does not respond with one word of kindness. | 1810 |
| The hour of my death very quickly approaches. | |
| Never can my tears bend him | |
| Nor my sighs nor my words. | |
| What more can I say? I am a great fool; | |
| Never did he hear me lament so much | 1815 |
| That he ever was able to shed a tear as a result, | |
| Nor did he even glance toward me. | |
| To him it means little if I am in sorrow; | |
| Never did he offer me even a pretence. | |
| To him I am worth hardly a thought. | 1820 |
| Since he comforts me with nothing at all, | |
| Alas, why am I not dead? | |
| We feel very differently: | |
| I die of love, he feels nothing of it; | |
| He is at peace, I experience nothing but evils. | 1825 |
| Love shows me no loyalty, | |
| Since we do no share common feelings. | |
| If he felt what I feel, | |
| So that he loved me as I do him, | |
| We two would never part. | 1830 |
| He takes off, talking about his conjectures, | |
| And goes about inventing his lies; | |
| He says that the gods have commanded him, | |
| Have foreseen and ordained | |
| How he ought to spend his life | 1835 |
| And that he should go off to Lombardy. | |
| The gods do have great concern about this, | |
| Put themselves to a great deal of unusual trouble, | |
| And hold a very extended conference about this: | |
| To order him what he should do! | 1840 |
| But I beleive it means nothing to them | |
| Whether he remains or goes off. | |
| Since he says the gods are so concerned about him, | |
| So that he does nothing without their command, | |
| Why then did they afflict him so much, | 1845 |
| Buffeting him at sea and on land? | |
| Not for a single day did their war against him let up, | |
| Until he came to this land. | |
| When he arrived in this territory, | |
| He was bereft. What a fool I was, | 1850 |
| What I received him into my presence! | |
| Now I repent, as I should do. | |
| He has done with me everything he desired; | |
| He will not remain here for any pleading of mine. | |
| Since I can no longer hold him, | 1855 |
| Let him go: I must die.' | |
| She weeps, moans and sighs. | |
| She still wanted to say much more, | |
| When a swoon took complete control of her, | |
| And deprived her of consciousness. | 1860 |
| Her maidens took her away from there | |
| To her stone-paved bed-chamber. | |
| Sir Eneas wept a great deal | |
| And gave comfort to the queen, | |
| But nothing that he might say did any good, | 1865 |
| For he could not delay any longer; | |
| It was necessary for him to do what the gods said, | |
| No matter to whom that might be unwelcome. | |
| The Trojans departed from Carthage, | |
| Came to their ships on the shore, | 1870 |
| Made their preparations, | |
| And found the wind very favorable. | |
| They raised their anchors, launched their ships, | |
| And some raised up their sails. | |
| Dido went up to her rooms, | 1875 |
| Up to the highest windows; | |
| When she saw the navy made ready, | |
| You won't be surprised if she made a lament. | |
| She moans and weeps and cries and whines | |
| When she sees that he friend is leaving; | 1880 |
| She has no care for her life: | |
| Love has no reason or balance. | |
| Again she wants to make an effort | |
| To see if her prayers have any effect: | |
| She calls her sister to her. | 1885 |
| 'Anna, I am dying of great sorrow. | |
| Sister, look at the ships, where they are leaving, | |
| And Eneas encourages them on; | |
| He does not want to remain, not even a little. | |
| Go, and tell him that I declare to him: | 1890 |
| I didn't destroy his country, | |
| Nor did I kill his father; | |
| Never did I do anything to him except good. | |
| Inform him to give me a gift; | |
| I do not ask him once and for all | 1895 |
| To give up going to Lombardy, | |
| But only to stay a short time with me, | |
| And comfort me: this is what I wish.' | |
| Her sister goes and comes there often, | |
| But this man does not at all change | 1900 |
| The intention that he has. | |
| He hastens off to sea without hesitation. | |
| Dido faints and changes color, | |
| And since she has determined on her death, | |
| 'Anna,' she says, 'now I have found | 1905 |
| A very good plan and purpose: | |
| There is a sorceress near here, | |
| For her the most difficult thing is easy. | |
| She resurrects dead men | |
| And prophesies and casts lots, | 1910 |
| And makes the sun disappear | |
| At high noon and turn back | |
| And go in reverse toward the east, | |
| And likewise with the moon: | |
| She makes it new or full | 1915 |
| Three or four times a week. | |
| And she makes birds speak | |
| And water flow uphill. | |
| She draws the infernal Furies up from hell, | |
| Who proclaim auguries to her; | 1920 |
| She makes oak trees to come down from the hills | |
| And serpents to be stunned and captured; | |
| She makes the earth groan under her feet, | |
| Knows well how to cast enchantments and auguries. | |
| She makes people fall in love, or hate; | 1925 |
| With everything, she does what she pleases. | |
| She told me this: that she will make | |
| The knight return, | |
| Or make me completely forget, | |
| So that I will never even dream of loving him. | 1930 |
| And for this reason she has commanded me | |
| That I have a huge bonfire made, | |
| Have my finery put in it, | |
| All those things of which he made me presents, | |
| And his sword, which he left with me, | 1935 |
| The bed where he shamed me; | |
| I should have these completely burnt and destroyed, | |
| And she will see to that by her augury, | |
| By her wonderful enchantment, | |
| That love of him will grieve me no longer. | 1940 |
| Secretly, in a chamber, | |
| Have a bonfire quickly made for me, | |
| And put in it the trinkets | |
| From the Trojan which are in the room, | |
| All the weapons and the bed | 1945 |
| Where we took our delight; | |
| I do not want to retain anything of his. | |
| Have the sorceress come, | |
| And prepare a sacrifice for me, | |
| That must be performed with this ritual.' | 1950 |
| She went to prepare the bonfire, | |
| Since the lady had ordered her; | |
| She neither understood nor knew, | |
| Why she commanded her to do this. | |
| Dido remains in her apartments, | 1955 |
| From which she gazed after the knight, | |
| Who was already well out to sea. | |
| Her love impels and oppresses her, | |
| Love makes her faint often | |
| And gives her chills and makes her tremble; | 1960 |
| She twists her fingers, pulls at her hair, | |
| With her sleeve of white ermine | |
| She waves to him hundreds of times, | |
| But this is not of any use to her at all, | |
| For he cannot return, | 1965 |
| Or go against the command of the gods. | |
| She calls him and signals; | |
| Love impels and torments her. | |
| It will not leave her, that's my opinion, | |
| Until she has taken a fall. | 1970 |
| When she sees that her friend is gone | |
| And that her love is drawing her toward death, | |
| She begins again to sigh, | |
| To lament to herself: | |
| 'Alas, since he is going away from here | 1975 |
| What am I to do then besides kill myself? | |
| When I see that he has mistreated me, | |
| Can I not therefore despise my life? | |
| From him I will never get any comfort. | |
| He is already very far away from the harbor; | 1980 |
| I will not see him again, I expect: | |
| He will never again come to this country. | |
| Since I will never receive any benefit from him, | |
| Why did I ever see him or know him? | |
| Why did he come to this shore? | 1985 |
| Why did I receive him in Carthage? | |
| Why did he lie beside me? | |
| Why did I break the pledge | |
| I gave to my lord? | |
| It was love that destroyed me, indeed. | 1990 |
| Now is the promise broken | |
| And I will not have anything from this man; | |
| For a moment's pleasure I have broken | |
| The pledge that I had preserved so long, | |
| But now for that little thing I am just as totally | 1995 |
| Ruined as I would have been for a greater: | |
| My promise is just as broken, | |
| As if he had had me my entire life. | |
| Since this man will not have me as his wife, | |
| Shall I go, then, to beg | 2000 |
| Those whom I have no wish to have as lord? | |
| Shall I, now, commit such a dishonorable act? | |
| When they wanted me, I denied them; | |
| Now shall I beg them again? | |
| I will certainly not do it; I would prefer to die, | 2005 |
| Since I cannot otherwise look after myself.' | |
| She gave herself to lamenting | |
| And the Trojans gave themselves to sailing, | |
| Until she could no longer pick them out. | |
| Then she thought she would die of sorrow, | 2010 |
| Beat her breast, pulled her hair. | |
| Great is the lamentation her people make; | |
| They could not comfort her. | |
| None of them dare to speak with her. | |
| She wanders about like a madwoman, | 2015 |
| Until she is come into the chamber | |
| Where her sister had made a great bonfire | |
| And done the rest of what she had commanded. | |
| Before this Dido had had her called away | |
| And had the chamber completely emptied: | 2020 |
| She did not want her to be there, | |
| Where she might oppose her | |
| And offer interference to her | |
| In what she had in mind. | |
| She is completely on her own in the chamber, | 2025 |
| And there is no one there who might interfere | |
| With the madness that she wants to carry out: | |
| To draw the Trojan's sword. | |
| When he gave it to her, he did not at all think | |
| That she would lose her life by it. | 2030 |
| She takes the fully drawn sword, | |
| She stabbed herself below the breast; | |
| With that blow, she jumps onto the bonfire | |
| That her sister had prepared: | |
| On the bed, over the Trojan's | 2035 |
| Finery, she lays herself face down; | |
| In blood she sprawls and laments. | |
| She speaks with a lot of difficulty: | |
| 'I loved these fine clothes a lot, | |
| And have kept them for as long as God pleased. | 2040 |
| I cannot extend my life any further; | |
| On these clothes I want to give up my soul. | |
| It was my misfortune that I ever saw these trinkets: | |
| They were the beginning | |
| Of my death and destruction. | 2045 |
| It was my misfortune that this man made me a gift | |
| Of them; like a fool I loved him too much. | |
| I have been brought to a very evil end. | |
| On these clothes I want to finish my life | |
| And on this bed where I was brought to shame; | 2050 |
| Here I leave my honor and my high position, | |
| And abandon Carthage without an heir. | |
| Here I lose my name, all my glory, | |
| But I will not die out of memory so much | |
| That people will not speak of me forever-- | 2055 |
| At least among the Trojans. | |
| Once upon a time I was very noble and wise, | |
| Before love moved me to such passion; | |
| And I would have been very happy indeed, | |
| If the Trojan who betrayed me-- | 2060 |
| For whose love I lose my life-- | |
| Had not come into my country. | |
| He has killed me most unjustly indeed. | |
| Here I pardon him for my death; | |
| In the name of reconciliation, of peace, | 2065 |
| I kiss his fine gifts on his bed. | |
| I give you my pardon for it, lord Eneas.' | |
| She kissed the bead and all the clothes; | |
| She had already lost a great deal of blood | |
| And had lost her power of speech; | 2070 |
| She gasped and sobbed, | |
| As death weighed heavily upon her. | |
| She breathed with very great difficulty, | |
| Until any further delay was completely lost to her. | |
| When her sister came, when she saw her, | 2075 |
| Then for the first time did she realize. | |
| She sees the sword sticking straight in her body; | |
| She sees the stream of blood pouring out. | |
| She was about to stab herself also, | |
| When her maidens held her back. | 2080 |
| She weeps and cries and whines | |
| And tears and pulls her hair. | |
| 'Alas,' she said, 'unhappy woman, | |
| I myself have prepared | |
| The death by means of which she killed herself. | 2085 |
| Sister, is this, then, the sacrifice | |
| That you asked to have prepared? | |
| Was it, then, for this purpose? | |
| I truly have killed you, | |
| But I didn't do it knowingly; | 2090 |
| I did what you commanded me. | |
| Now I see clearly that you manipulated me; | |
| Now I repent. But it is too late. | |
| Sister, is this, then, the plan | |
| That you had to invent | 2095 |
| And plot and arrange, | |
| So that love would be easy for you to bear? | |
| And where now is the sorceress, | |
| Who knows so well how to cast a spell, | |
| Who was needed to make you forget? | 2100 |
| I have looked after you very badly, | |
| For you have been killed by my actions. | |
| The sorceress was to have cast a spell | |
| By which you would be made to forget. | |
| Here is a very poor enchantment: | 2105 |
| We see this clearly. | |
| You have drunk a fatal poison | |
| In order to make you forget the knight. | |
| You will no longer, at last, have any memory | |
| Of your love for the Trojan.' | 2110 |
| The sister laments with very great sorrow; | |
| Her heart nearly gives out on her. | |
| Dido has stabbed herself to death: | |
| Death weighs and presses on her | |
| And the flames come close on one side | 2115 |
| And engulf and burn her entire body. | |
| She cannot say a word, loud or soft, | |
| Except that she speaks the name of Eneas. | |
| The flames have pressed in on her so much | |
| Her soul is separated from her body. | 2120 |
| Her white and beautiful and soft flesh | |
| She cannot defend from the fire. | |
| She burns and broils and turns black; | |
| In a very short while she is defeated. | |
| Her servant girls and her barons | 2125 |
| Give voice to their great sorrow all around; | |
| They loudly bewail her lost strength | |
| And her intelligence and her nobility. | |
| When the body is reduced to ashes, | |
| Her sister had the dust taken up. | 2130 |
| In a very small urn | |
| They placed the Tyrian lady; | |
| They had her carried from there into the temple, | |
| Had her buried with great honor. | |
| Then they had made there a very noble tomb, | 2135 |
| Made of enamel and of niello: | |
| A richer one no man has seen. | |
| They inscribed an epitaph there; | |
| The letters read: 'Here lies | |
| Dido, who killed herself for love; | 2140 |
| Never was there a better pagan, | |
| If she had not had a secretive love; | |
| But she loved too foolishly, | |
| And her intelligence did her no good.' | |
| Eneas is on the high seas; | 2145 |
| He has no thought of returning. | |
| He sees land in no direction. | |
| He wants to go to Lombardy; | |
| They are rowing and sailing rapidly. | |
| They are very far removed from a harbor, | 2150 |
| When a wind rises from the side | |
| Which drove drives them on a starboard tack. | |
| They have turned toward the port of Sichans, | |
| There where his father had died. | |
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