Aeneid IV.633-705

Dido climbs her funeral pyre.

Then she spoke briefly to Barce, Sychaeus’s nurse,

since dark ashes concealed her own in her former country:

“Dear nurse, bring my sister Anna here: tell her

to hurry, and sprinkle herself with water from the river,

and bring the sacrificial victims and noble offerings.

Let her come, and you yourself veil your brow with sacred ribbons.

My purpose is to complete the rites of Stygian Jupiter

that I commanded and have duly begun, and put an end

to sorrow, and entrust the pyre of that Trojan leader to the flames.”

So she said. The old woman zealously hastened her steps.

But Dido, restless, wild with desperate purpose,

rolling her bloodshot eyes, her trembling cheeks

stained with red flushes, yet pallid at approaching death,

rushed into the house through its inner threshold, furiously

climbed the tall funeral pyre, and unsheathed

a Trojan sword, a gift that was never acquired to this end.

Then as she saw the Ilian clothing and the familiar couch,

she lingered a while in tears and thought, then

cast herself on the bed and spoke her last words:

“Reminders, sweet while fate and the god allowed it,

accept this soul and loose me from my sorrows.

I have lived, and I have completed the course that Fortune granted,

and now my noble spirit will pass beneath the earth.

I have built a bright city, I have seen its battlements,

avenging a husband I have exacted punishment

on a hostile brother, happy, ah, happy indeed

if Trojan keels had never touched my shores!”

She spoke, and buried her face in the couch.

“I shall die unavenged, but let me die,” she cried.

“So, so I joy in travelling into the shadows.

Let the cruel Trojan’s eyes drink in this fire, on the deep,

and bear with him the evil omen of my death.”

She had spoken, and in the midst of these words,

her servants saw she had fallen on the blade,

the sword frothed with blood, and her hands were stained.

A cry rose to the high ceiling: Rumour, run riot, struck the city.

The houses sounded with weeping and sighs and women’s cries,

the sky echoed with a mighty lamentation,

as if all Carthage or ancient Tyre were falling

to the invading enemy, and raging flames were rolling

over the roofs of men and gods.¹

Her sister, terrified, heard it, and rushed through the crowd,

tearing her cheeks with her nails and beating her breast,

and called out to the dying woman in accusation:

“So this was the meaning of it, sister? Did you aim to cheat me?

This pyre of yours, this fire and altar were prepared for my sake?

What shall I grieve for first in my abandonment? Did you scorn

your sister’s company in dying? You should have summoned me

to the same fate: the same hour the same sword’s hurt should have

taken us both. I even built your pyre with these hands,

and was I calling aloud on our father’s gods

so that I would be absent, cruel one, as you lay here?

You have extinguished yourself and me, sister: your people,

your Sidonian ancestors, and your city. I should bathe

your wounds with water and catch with my lips

whatever dying breath still hovers.” So saying she climbed

the high levels and clasped her dying sister to her breast,

sighing and stemming the dark blood with her dress.

Dido tried to lift her heavy eyelids again, but failed;

and the deep wound hissed in her breast.

Lifting herself three times, she struggled to rise on her elbow:

three times she fell back onto the bed, searching for light in

the depths of heaven with wandering eyes, and, finding it, sighed.²

Then all-powerful Juno, pitying the long suffering

of her difficult death, sent Iris³ from Olympus to release

the struggling spirit and captive body. For since

she had not died through fate, or by a well-earned death,

but wretchedly, before her time, inflamed with sudden madness,

Proserpine⁴ had not yet taken a lock of golden hair

from her head, or condemned her soul to Stygian Orcus.

So dew-wet Iris flew down through the sky on saffron wings,

trailing a thousand shifting colours across the sun,

and hovered over her head. “I take this offering, sacred to Dis⁵,

as commanded, and release you from the body that was yours.”

So she spoke, and cut the lock of hair with her right hand.

All the warmth ebbed at once, and life vanished on the breeze.

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tum breviter Barcen nutricem adfata Sychaei,

namque suam patria antiqua cinis ater habebat:

'Annam, cara mihi nutrix, huc siste sororem:

dic corpus properet fluviali spargere lympha,               635

et pecudes secum et monstrata piacula ducat.

sic veniat, tuque ipsa pia tege tempora vitta.

sacra Iovi Stygio, quae rite incepta paravi,

perficere est animus finemque imponere curis

Dardaniique rogum capitis permittere flammae.'               640

sic ait. illa gradum studio celebrabat anili.

at trepida et coeptis immanibus effera Dido

sanguineam volvens aciem, maculisque trementis

interfusa genas et pallida morte futura,

interiora domus inrumpit limina et altos                              645

conscendit furibunda rogos ensemque recludit

Dardanium, non hos quaesitum munus in usus.

hic, postquam Iliacas vestis notumque cubile

conspexit, paulum lacrimis et mente morata

incubuitque toro dixitque novissima verba:               650

'dulces exuviae, dum fata deusque sinebat,

accipite hanc animam meque his exsolvite curis.

vixi et quem dederat cursum Fortuna peregi,

et nunc magna mei sub terras ibit imago.

urbem praeclaram statui, mea moenia vidi,               655

ulta virum poenas inimico a fratre recepi,

felix, heu nimium felix, si litora tantum

numquam Dardaniae tetigissent nostra carinae.'

dixit, et os impressa toro 'moriemur inultae,

sed moriamur' ait. 'sic, sic iuvat ire sub umbras.               660

hauriat hunc oculis ignem crudelis ab alto

Dardanus, et nostrae secum ferat omina mortis.'

dixerat, atque illam media inter talia ferro

conlapsam aspiciunt comites, ensemque cruore

spumantem sparsasque manus. it clamor ad alta               665

atria: concussam bacchatur Fama per urbem.

lamentis gemituque et femineo ululatu

tecta fremunt, resonat magnis plangoribus aether,

non aliter quam si immissis ruat hostibus omnis

Karthago aut antiqua Tyros, flammaeque furentes               670

culmina perque hominum volvantur perque deorum.

audiit exanimis trepidoque exterrita cursu

unguibus ora soror foedans et pectora pugnis

per medios ruit, ac morientem nomine clamat:

'hoc illud, germana, fuit? me fraude petebas?               675

hoc rogus iste mihi, hoc ignes araeque parabant?

quid primum deserta querar? comitemne sororem

sprevisti moriens? eadem me ad fata vocasses,

idem ambas ferro dolor atque eadem hora tulisset.

his etiam struxi manibus patriosque vocavi               680

voce deos, sic te ut posita, crudelis, abessem?

exstinxti te meque, soror, populumque patresque

Sidonios urbemque tuam. date, vulnera lymphis

abluam et, extremus si quis super halitus errat,

ore legam.' sic fata gradus evaserat altos,               685

semianimemque sinu germanam amplexa fovebat

cum gemitu atque atros siccabat veste cruores.

illa gravis oculos conata attollere rursus

deficit; infixum stridit sub pectore vulnus.

ter sese attollens cubitoque adnixa levavit,               690

ter revoluta toro est oculisque errantibus alto

quaesivit caelo lucem ingemuitque reperta.

Tum Iuno omnipotens longum miserata dolorem

difficilisque obitus Irim demisit Olympo

quae luctantem animam nexosque resolveret artus.               695

nam quia nec fato merita nec morte peribat,

sed misera ante diem subitoque accensa furore,

nondum illi flavum Proserpina vertice crinem

abstulerat Stygioque caput damnaverat Orco.

ergo Iris croceis per caelum roscida pennis               700

mille trahens varios adverso sole colores

devolat et supra caput astitit. 'hunc ego Diti

sacrum iussa fero teque isto corpore solvo:'

sic ait et dextra crinem secat, omnis et una

dilapsus calor atque in ventos vita recessit.               705

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Find the glossary for Aeneid Daily here; subscribe to receive daily posts.

1. c.f. the wailing women of falling Troy.

2. c.f. Aeneas attempting three times to embrace the ghost of Creusa.

3. Juno’s messenger, the goddess of the rainbow

4. Roman equivalent of Persephone, queen of the underworld.

5. another name for Pluto