CHAPTER IX.

THE LOVE AND DEATH OF DIDO.

Much was Queen Dido moved by the story, and much did she marvel at him

that told it, and scarce could sleep for thinking of him. And the next

day she spake to Anna, her sister, "O my sister, I have been troubled

this night with ill dreams, and my heart is disquieted within me. What

a man is this stranger that hath come to our shores! How noble of

mien! How bold in war! Sure I am that he is of the sons of the Gods.

What fortunes have been his! Of what wars he told us! Surely were I

not steadfastly purposed that I would not yoke me again in marriage,

this were the man to whom I might yield. Only he--for I will tell thee

the truth, my sister--only he, since the day when Sichæus died by his

brother's hand, hath moved my heart. But may the earth swallow me up,

or the almighty Father strike me with lightning, ere I stoop to such

baseness. The husband of my youth hath carried with him my love, and

he shall keep it in his grave."

So she spake, with many tears. And her sister made answer, "Why wilt

thou waste thy youth in sorrow, without child or husband? Thinkest

thou that there is care or remembrance of such things in the grave? No

suitors indeed have pleased thee here or in Tyre, but wilt thou also

contend with a love that is after thine own heart? Think too of the

nations among whom thou dwellest, how fierce they are, and of thy

brother at Tyre, what he threatens against thee. Surely it was by the

will of the Gods, and of Juno chiefly, that the ships of Troy came

hither. And this city, which thou buildest, to what greatness will it

grow if only thou wilt make for thyself such alliance! How great will

be the glory of Carthage if the strength of Troy be joined unto her!

Only do thou pray to the Gods and offer sacrifices; and, for the

present, seeing that the time of sailing is now past, make excuse that

these strangers tarry with thee awhile."

Thus did Anna comfort her sister and encourage her. And first the two

offered sacrifice to the Gods, chiefly to Juno, who careth for the

bond of marriage. Also, examining the entrails of slain beasts, they

sought to learn the things that should happen thereafter. And ever

Dido would company with Æneas, leading him about the walls of the city

which she builded. And often she would begin to speak and stay in the

midst of her words. And when even was come, she would hear again and

again at the banquet the tale of Troy, and while others slept would

watch, and while he was far away would seem to see him and to hear

him. Ascanius, too, she would embrace for love of his father, if so

she might cheat her own heart. But the work of the city was stayed

meanwhile; nor did the towers rise in their places, nor the youth

practise themselves in arms.

Then Juno, seeing how it fared with the queen, spake to Venus, "Are ye

satisfied with your victory, thou and thy son, that ye have vanquished

the two of you one woman? Well I knew that thou fearedst lest this

Carthage should harm thy favourite. But why should there be war

between us? Thou hast what thou seekedst. Let us make alliance. Let

Dido obey a Phrygian husband, and bring the men of Tyre as her dowry."

But Venus knew that she spake with ill intent, to the end that the men

of Troy should not reign in the land of Italy. Nevertheless she

dissembled with her tongue, and spake, "Who would not rather have

peace with thee than war? Only I doubt whether this thing shall be to

the pleasure of Jupiter. This thou must learn, seeing that thou art

his wife, and where thou leadest I will follow."

So the two, taking counsel together, ordered things in this wise. The

next day a great hunting was prepared. For as soon as ever the sun was

risen upon the earth, the youth of the city assembled, with nets and

hunting spears and dogs that ran by scent. And the princes of Carthage

waited for the queen at the palace door, where her horse stood

champing the bit, with trappings of purple and gold. And after a while

she came forth, with many following her. And she had upon her a

Sidonian mantle, with a border wrought with divers colours; of gold

was her quiver, and of gold the knot of her hair, and of gold the

clasp to her mantle. Æneas likewise came forth, beautiful as is Apollo

when he leaveth Lydia and the stream of Xanthus, coming to Delos, and

hath about his hair a wreath of bay-leaves and a circlet of gold. So

fair was Æneas to see. And when the hunters came to the hills they

found great store of goats and stags, which they chased. And of all

the company Ascanius was the foremost, thinking scorn of such hunting,

and wishing that a wild boar or a lion out of the hills should come

forth to be his prey.

And now befell a great storm, with much thunder and hail, from which

the hunters sought shelter. But Æneas and the queen, being left of all

their company, came together to the same cave. And there they plighted

their troth one to another. Nor did the queen after that make secret

of her love, but called Æneas her husband.

Straightway went Rumour and told these things through the cities of

Libya. Now Rumour, men say, is the youngest daughter of Earth, a

marvellous creature, moving very swiftly with feet and wings, and

having many feathers upon her, and under every feather an eye and a

tongue and a mouth and an ear. In the night she flies between heaven

and earth, and sleepeth not; and in the day she sits on some house-top

or lofty tower, or spreads fear over mighty cities; and she loveth

that which is false even as she loveth that which is true. So now she

went telling through Libya how Æneas of Troy was come, and Dido was

wedded to him, and how they lived careless and at ease, and thinking

not of the work to which they were called.

And first of all she went to Prince Iarbas, who himself had sought

Dido in marriage. And Iarbas was very wroth when he heard it, and,

coming to the temple of Jupiter, spread his grief before the god, how

that he had given a place on his coasts to this Dido, and would have

taken her to wife, but that she had married a stranger from Phrygia,

another Paris, whose dress and adornments were of a woman rather than

of a man.

And Jupiter saw that this was so, and he said to Mercury, who was his

messenger, "Go speak to Æneas these words: 'Thus saith the King of

Gods and men. Is this what thy mother promised of thee, twice saving

thee from the spear of the Greeks? Art thou he that shall rule Italy

and its mighty men of war, and spread thy dominion to the ends of the

world? If thou thyself forgettest these things, dost thou grudge to

thy son the citadels of Rome? What doest thou here? Why lookest thou

not to Italy? Depart and tarry not.'"

Then Mercury fitted the winged sandals to his feet, and took the wand

with which he driveth the spirits of the dead, and came right soon to

Mount Atlas, which standeth bearing the heaven on his head, and having

always clouds about his top, and snow upon his shoulders, and a beard

that is stiff with ice. There Mercury stood awhile; then, as a bird

which seeks its prey in the sea, shot headlong down, and came to Æneas

where he stood, with a yellow jasper in his sword-hilt, and a cloak of

purple shot with gold about his shoulders, and spake: "Buildest thou

Carthage, forgetting thine own work? The almighty Father saith to

thee, 'What meanest thou? Why tarriest thou here? If thou carest not

for thyself, yet think of thy son, and that the Fates have given to

him Italy and Rome.'"

And Æneas saw him no more. And he stood stricken with fear and doubt.

Fain would he obey the voice, and go as the Gods commanded. But how

should he tell this purpose to the queen? But at the last it seemed

good to him to call certain of the chiefs, as Mnestheus, and

Sergestus, and Antheus, and bid them make ready the ships in silence,

and gather together the people, but dissemble the cause, and he

himself would watch a fitting time to speak and unfold the matter to

the queen.

Yet was not Dido deceived, for love is keen of sight. Rumour also told

her that they made ready the ships for sailing. Then, flying through

the city, even as one on whom has come the frenzy of Bacchus flies by

night over Mount Cithæron, she came upon Æneas, and spake: "Thoughtest

thou to hide thy crime, and to depart in silence from this land?

Carest thou not for her whom thou leavest to die? And hast thou no

fear of winter storms that vex the sea? By all that I have done for

thee and given thee, if there be yet any place for repentance, repent

thee of this purpose. For thy sake I suffer the wrath of the princes

of Libya and of my own people; and if thou leavest me, for what should

I live?--till my brother overthrow my city, or Iarbas carry me away

captive? If but I had a little Æneas to play in my halls I should not

seem so altogether desolate."

But Æneas, fearing the words of Jupiter, stood with eyes that relented

not. At the last he spake: "I deny not, O Queen, the benefits that

thou hast done unto me, nor ever, while I live, shall I forget Dido. I

sought not to fly by stealth; yet did I never promise that I would

abide in this place. Could I have chosen according to my will I had

built again the city of Troy where it stood; but the Gods command that

I should seek Italy. Thou hast thy Carthage: why dost thou grudge

Italy to us? Nor may I tarry. Night after night have I seen my father

Anchises warning me in dreams. Also even now the messenger of Jupiter

came to me--with these ears I heard him--and bade me depart."

Then, in great wrath, with eyes askance, did Dido break forth upon

him: "Surely no goddess was thy mother, nor art thou come of the race

of Dardanus. The rocks of Caucasus brought thee forth, and an

Hyrcanian tigress gave thee suck. For why should I dissemble? Was he

moved at all by tears? Did he pity my love? Nay, the very Gods are

against me. This man I took to myself when he was shipwrecked and

ready to perish. I brought back his ships, his companions from

destruction. And now forsooth comes the messenger of Jupiter with

dreadful commands from the Gods. As for thee, I keep thee not. Go,

seek thy Italy across the seas: only, if there is any vengeance in

heaven, thou wilt pay the penalty for this wrong, being wrecked on

some rock in their midst. Then wilt thou call on Dido in vain. Aye,

and wherever thou shalt go I will haunt thee, and rejoice in the

dwellings below to hear thy doom."

Then she turned, and hasted to go into the house. But her spirit left

her, so that her maidens bare her to her chamber and laid her on her

bed.

Then Æneas, though indeed he was much troubled in heart, and would

fain have comforted the queen, was obedient to the heavenly word, and

departed to his ships. And the men of Troy busied themselves in making

them ready for the voyage. Even as the ants spoil a great heap of corn

and store it in their dwellings against winter, moving in a black line

across the field, and some carry the great grains, and some chide

those that linger, even so did the Trojans swarm along the ways and

labour at the work.

But when Dido saw it she called to Anna, her sister, and said, "Seest

thou how they hasten the work along the shore? Even now the sails are

ready for the winds, and the sailors have wreathed the ships with

garlands, as if for departure. Go thou--the deceiver always trusted

thee, and thou knowest how best to move him--go and entreat him. I

harmed not him nor his people; let him then grant me this only. Let

him wait for a fairer time for his journey. I ask not that he give up

his purpose; only that he grant me a short breathing space, till I may

learn how to bear this sorrow."

And Anna hearkened to her sister, and took the message to Æneas, yet

profited nothing, for the Gods shut his ears that he should not hear.

Even as an oak stands firm when the north wind would root it up from

the earth--its leaves are scattered all around, yet doth it remain

firm, for its roots go down to the regions below, even as far as its

branches reach to heaven--so stood Æneas firm, and, though he wept

many tears, changed not his purpose.

Then did Dido grow weary of her life. For when she did sacrifice the

pure water would grow black and the wine be changed into blood. Also

from the shrine of her husband, which was in the midst of her palace,

was heard a voice calling her, and the owl cried aloud from her

house-top. And in her dreams the cruel Æneas seemed to drive her

before him; or she seemed to be going a long way with none to bear her

company, and be seeking her own people in a land that was desert.

Therefore, hiding the thing that was in her heart, she spake to her

sister, saying, "I have found a way, my sister, that shall bring him

back to me or set me free from him. Near the shore of the Great Sea,

where the Æthiopians dwell, is a priestess, who guards the temple of

the daughters of Hesperus, being wont to feed the dragons that kept

the apples of gold. She is able by her charms to loose the heart from

care or to bind it, and to stay rivers also, and to turn the courses

of the stars, and to call up the spirits of the dead. Do thou,

therefore--for this is what the priestess commands--build a pile in

the open court, and put thereon the sword which he left hanging in our

chamber, and the garments he wore, and the couch on which he lay, even

all that was his, so that they may perish together."

And when these things were done--for Anna knew not of her purpose--and

also an image of Æneas was laid upon the pile, the priestess, with her

hair unbound, called upon all the gods that dwell below, sprinkling

thereon water that was drawn, she said, from the lake of Avernus, and

scattering evil herbs that had been cut at the full moon with a sickle

of bronze. Dido also, with one foot bare and her garments loosened,

threw meal upon the fire and called upon the Gods, if haply there be

any, that look upon those that love and suffer wrong.

In the mean time Æneas lay asleep in the hind part of his ship, when

there appeared to him in a dream the god Mercury, even as he had seen

him when he brought the commandment of Jupiter. And Mercury spake,

saying, "Son of Venus, canst thou sleep? seest thou not what perils

surround thee, nor hearest how the favourable west wind calls? The

queen purposes evil against thee. If thou lingerest till the morning

come thou wilt see the shore covered with them that wish thee harm.

Fly, then, and tarry not; for a woman is ever of many minds."

Then did Æneas in great fear start from his sleep, and call his

companions, saying, "Wake, and sit on the benches, and loose the

sails. 'Tis a god thus bids us fly." And even as he spake he cut the

cable with his sword. And all hasted to follow him, and sped over the

sea.

And now it was morning, and Queen Dido, from her watch-tower, saw the

ships upon the sea. Then she smote upon her breast and tore her hair,

and cried, "Shall this stranger mock us thus? Hasten to follow him.

Bring down the ships from the docks, make ready sword and fire. And

this was the man who bare upon his shoulders his aged father! Why did

I not tear him to pieces, and slay his companions with the sword, and

serve up the young Ascanius at his meal? And if I had perished, what

then? for I die to-day. O Sun, that regardest all the earth, and Juno,

that carest for marriage bonds, and Hecate, Queen of the dead, and ye

Furies that take vengeance on evildoers, hear me. If it be ordered

that he reach this land, yet grant that he suffer many things from his

enemies, and be driven from his city, and beg for help from strangers,

and see his people cruelly slain with the sword; and, when he shall

have made peace on ill conditions, that he enjoy not long his kingdom,

but die before his day, and lie unburied on the plain. And ye, men of

Tyre, hate his children and his people for ever. Let there be no love

or peace between you. And may some avenger arise from my grave who

shall persecute the race of Dardanus with fire and sword. So shall

there be war for ever between him and me."

Then she spake to old Barcé, who had been nurse to her husband

Sichæus, "Bid my sister bathe herself in water, and bring with her

beasts for sacrifice. And do thou also put a garland about thy head,

for I am minded to finish this sacrifice which I have begun, and to

burn the image of the man of Troy."

And when the old woman made haste to do her bidding, Queen Dido ran to

the court where the pile was made for the burning, and mounted on the

pile, and drew the sword of Æneas from the scabbard. Then did she

throw herself upon the bed, and cry, "Now do I yield up my life. I

have finished my course. I have built a mighty city. I have avenged my

husband on him that slew him. Happy had I been, yea too happy! had the

ships of Troy never come to this land." Then she kissed the bed and

cried, "Shall I die unavenged? Nevertheless let me die. The man of

Troy shall see this fire from the sea whereon he journeys, and carry

with him an augury of death."

And when her maidens looked, lo! she had fallen upon the sword, and

the blood was upon her hands. And a great cry went up through the

palace, exceeding loud and bitter, even as if the enemy had taken

Carthage or ancient Tyre, and the fire were mounting over the

dwellings of men and of Gods. And Anna her sister heard it, and

rushing through the midst called her by name, "O my sister, was this

thy purpose? Were the pile and the sword and the fire for this? Why

wouldst thou not suffer that I should die with thee? For surely, my

sister, thou hast slain thyself, and me, and thy people, and thy city.

But give me water, ye maidens, that I may wash her wounds, and if

there be any breath left in her, we may yet stay it."

Then she climbed on to the pile, and caught her sister in her arms,

and sought to staunch the blood with her garments. Three times did

Dido strive to raise her eyes; three times did her spirit leave her.

Three times she would have raised herself upon her elbow; three times

she fell back upon the bed, looking with wandering eyes for the light,

and groaning that she yet beheld it.

[Illustration: DIDO ON THE FUNERAL PILE.]

Then Juno, looking down from heaven, saw that her pain was long, and

pitied her, and sent down Iris, her messenger, that she might loose

the soul that struggled to be free. For, seeing that she died not by

nature, nor yet by the hand of man, but before her time and of her own

madness, Queen Proserpine had not shred the ringlet from her head

which she shreds from them that die. Wherefore Iris, flying down with

dewy wings from heaven, with a thousand colours about her from the

light of the sun, stood above her head and said, "I give thee to

death, even as I am bidden, and loose thee from thy body." Then she

shred the lock, and Queen Dido gave up the ghost.

Stories from Virgil · 第 9 / 26 章