Aeneid 4.1-159

But the queen, long since wounded with heavy care, nourishes the wound in her veins and she is harried by a blind fire. The great courage of the man and the great honor of his race returns to her mind. His looks and words cling, fixed in her heart, and her care does not give placid rest to her limbs.

(6) Next Aurora with Phoebus' light was illuminating the lands and had removed the dewy shadow from the sky, when thus the hardly sane woman speaks to her loving sister, "Sister Anna, what visions frighten anxious me! Who! this new guest enters our homes, bearing what a self in his face, how brave in heart and arms! I believe indeed--and it is no empty faith--that his is the race of the gods. Fear reveals degenerate spirits. Alas, with what fates that man has been shaken! Of what endured wars he was singing! If not to my mind it were set fixed and immovable not to wish to join myself to anyone in marriage bond, after my first love deceived disappointed me with death, if there had not been weariness of the marriage bed and torch, I was able to succumb to this one fault, perhaps. For I will admit it-Anna, after the fates of wretched Sychaeus, my husband, and Penates spattered with slaughter committed by a brother, this one alone has bent my feelings and pushed my slipping mind. I recognize the traces of the old flame. But I would first wish either that the lowest earth cleave open to me or the all-powerful father drive me to the shades with lightening, the pale shades in Erebus and the profound night, before I violate you, Shame, or I disperse your oaths. That man, who first joined me to himself, has stolen my loves; let that man have (them) with him and protect (them) in the grave." Thus having spoken, she filled her lap with risen tears.

(31) Anna responds, "O woman more cherished by her sister than the light, will you alone, mourning, be worn away in perpetual youth and know neither the sweet children of Venus nor her prizes? Do you believe that ash or sepulchral spirits care about this? So be it! no mates ever bent you in your illness, not in Libya not in Tyre before; Iarbus was scorned and the other leaders, whom Africa nourishes, a land rich in triumphs: will you fight still a pleasing love? Does it not come into your mind in whose fields you have settled? On this side the Gaetulian cities, a race unconquerable in war, and the unbridled Numidians and the inhospitable Syrtis surround; on that side a region wasted with drought and Barcaeans raging widely. What should I say about the wars rising from Tyre and the threats of your brother? I think with the gods as augers and Juno favorable the Trojan keeps held this course by the wind. What a city, this one you will see rise, sister, what kingdoms from such a marriage! With the arms of the Teucrians accompanying, with what great accomplishments Punic glory will lift itself! You only ask the gods for pardon, and, having made sacred offerings, indulge the guest and weave reasons for delaying, while the winter rages on the sea and Orion is rainy and the ships are shaken, while the sky is not manageable.

(54) With these things having been said, she inflamed her burning spirit with love and gave hope to a hesitating mind and released her shame. First they go to the shrines and seek peace through the altars; they sacrifice chosen sheep by custom to Ceres and Phoebus and father Lycaeus, to Juno before all, for whom are marriage bonds (for) a care. Most beautiful Dido herself, holding the bowl in her right hand, pours between the middle of the horns or the white cow, or before the faces of the gods approaches the rich altars and renews the day with gifts and, with the chests of the beasts opened, gazing, consults the breathing entrails. Alas, ignorant minds of seers! How do vows, how do shrines aid the maddened?

(67) Meanwhile a flame eats her soft marrows and a silent wound lives under her chest Unlucky Dido burns and wanders the whole city, raging, like a doe with a cast arrow, whom incautious among the Cretan woods from afar a shepherd hunting with his javelins has pierced and leaves the flying weapon unaware: that one in flight wanders the woods and Dictaean groves; the lethal shaft clings to her side. Now she leads Aeneas with her through the midst of her walls and shows off Sidonian wealth and her prepared city, she begins to speak and stops in the middle of her speech; now with the day slipping by she seeks the same banquets and demented demands to hear Trojan labors again and again she hangs from the lip of the narrator. After when they have left and the dark moon presses her light in turn and the falling stars persuade sleep, she alone grieves in the empty home and lies upon abandoned couches. Absent she both hears and sees that one absent, or with a groan she detains Ascanius, captured by the image of his father, (as) if she could deceive unspeakable love. Begun turrets do not rise, youth do not practice arms or prepare ports or safe defenses for war: interrupted works and huge threats of walls and machine equal to the sky hang down.

(90) Whom, as soon as the dear wife of Jove sensed that (she was) held with such disease and reputation did not prevent her madness, with such words Saturnia approaches Venus, "You and your boy take back outstanding praise indeed and ample spoils indeed--a great and memorable power--if one woman has been conquered by the trick of two gods. And truly it does not deceive me that you, fearing our walls, consider the homes of high Carthage as suspicious. But what will be the end, or to what purpose now (do we struggle) in such a contest? Why not rather we cultivate eternal peace and pledged weddings? You have what you sought with your whole mind: loving Dido burns and has drug madness through her bones. Therefore let us rule this people in common and with equal auspices; let it be permitted that she slave for a Phrygian husband and hand over Tyrians as dowry to your right hand."

(105) Thus--for she sensed that she spoke with pretended intention in order that she avert the kingdom of Italy to Libyan shores--in response to her Venus began, "Who, mad, would refuse such things or prefer to contend with you in war, if only fortune might follow as a deed what you recount? But I am tossed uncertain by the fates, if Jupiter wants there to be one city for Tyrians and those having set out from Troy or he approves that the people be mixed or pacts be joined. You are his wife, it is right for you to try his mind by asking. Go on, I will follow."

(115) Then thus queen Juno picked up, "That will be a labor for me. Now by what means what presses can be accomplished, I will teach in a few (words)--pay attention. Aeneas and most wretched Dido together prepare to go to the forest to hunt, when tomorrow's Titan will have brought out his first risings and uncovered the region with his rays. I will pour down on these from above a black cloud with hail mixed in, while the wings are beating and they circle the forest with the net, and I will rouse the whole sky with thunder. The companions will flee and be covered with dark night: Dido and the Trojan leader will come to the same cave. I will be there and, if your will is sure to me, I will join (them) in steady wedlock and I will call her his own. This will be a marriage." Not averse to the one seeking, Cytheria nodded and laughed at the found tricks.

(129) Meanwhile Aurora, rising, left Ocean. Chosen youth go from the ports at risen daylight; wide-meshed nets, traps, hunting spears with wide iron, and Massylian horsemen rush and the scenting force of dogs. The first of the Poeni await the queen, lingering at the threshold of her bedchamber, her horse stands (lit. the one making sounds with its feet, distinguished with purple and gold, and chomps the foaming harnesses fiercely. At last she advances, with a great crowd accompanying, wearing (lit. surrounded in respect to) a Sidonian cloak with embroidered border; whose quiver is gold, her hair is (lit. pl.) knotted in gold, gold pins fasten her purple clothes. And indeed (lit. not not) both the Phrygian companions and happy Iulus approach. Aeneas himself, most handsome before all others, brings himself in as an ally and unites the bands. As when Apollo leaves wintery Lycia and the streams of the Xanthus and visits maternal Delos and renews the chorus, and, mixed around the altars, both the Cretans and Dryopes and the painted Agathyrsi clamor; he himself steps along the ridges of Cynthus and, grooming, he presses his flowing hair with soft leaf and winds (it) with gold, his weapons sound on his shoulders: Aeneas was going hardly more sluggish than that one, just so his glory shines from his distinguished face. After it is come into the high mountains and pathless wilderness, look! wild goats dislodged from the top of the rock ran down from the ridges; from another part dusty herds of hind pass over open fields at a run and gather in flight and leave the mountains. But the boy Ascanius in the middle of the valleys rejoices in his fierce horse and pass by now these, now those at a run, and he hopes a foaming boar be given to his prayers among the helpless herds or that a tawny lion descend from the mountain.