From The Legend of Good Women (Translation)
III. The Legend of Dido, Queen of Carthage
Incipit Legenda Didonis martiris, Cartaginis Regine.*
May there be glory and honor, Virgil of Mantua, to your name! I shall follow your lantern as well as I can, while you lead, in telling how Aeneas perjured himself to Dido. I will follow the meaning of your Aeneid and of Ovid, and will put the main events into verse. 929
When Troy was brought to destruction by the wiles of the Greeks, and especially by Sinon, pretending that horse, through which many Trojans were to die, to be an offering to Minerva; and when Hector had appeared after his death, and fire so wild it could not be controlled raged through all the noble tower of Ilium, which was the chief fortification of the city; and when all the land was brought low, and Priam the king slain and brought to nothing; and when Aeneas was charged by Venus to flee, he took Ascanius his son by his right hand and fled. And on his back he bore with him his old father, called Anchises, and on the way he lost his wife Creusa. And he bore much sorrow in heart before he could find his companions. But at last, when he had found them, he prepared at certain time and quickly pushed out to sea, and sailed forth with all his men toward Italy, as destiny directed. But it is not my point to speak of his adventures on the sea here, for it is not related my subject matter; but, as I have said, my tale shall be of him and Dido, until I have finished. 957
So long he sailed the salty sea, until with difficulty he arrived in Libya with seven ships, and no larger fleet; and he was glad to rush to land, so shaken was he with the tempest. And when he had gained the haven, of all his fellowship he chose a knight called Achates to go with him to survey the land; he took with him no greater company. Forth they went, his comrade and he, without any to point the way, and left his ships riding at anchor. 969
So long he walked in the wilderness until at the last he met a huntress; she had a bow in hand, and arrows; her garments were cut short to the knee; but she was the fairest creature that ever nature had formed. And she greeted Aeneas and Achates, and thus spoke to them, when she met them: "Have you seen," she said, "as you walked wide and far, any of my sisters in this forest with garments tucked up and arrows in their quivers walk near you, with any wild boar or other beast that they have hunted?" 982
"Nay truly, lady," said this Aeneas; "but it seems to me by your beauty you can not be a woman of this world, I would think, but are the sister of Phoebus.* And, if it is so that you are a goddess, have pity on our labor and woe. 988
"Truly, I am no goddess," she said; "for here in this land maidens walk with arrows and bow in this manner. This is the realm of Libya where you are, of which Dido is lady and queen." And briefly she told him all the reason of Dido's coming to those parts, of which I wish not to write now; there is no need, for it would be a waste of time. For this is the sum and substance: it was Venus, his own mother, who thus spoke with Aeneas; and she told him to turn toward Carthage, and without delay vanished out of his sight. I could follow Virgil word for word, but it would take entirely too long.
This noble queen named Dido, formerly wife to Sychaeus and fairer than the shining sun, had founded this noble town of Carthage, in which she reigned in such great glory that she was believed to be the flower of all queens in nobility, generosity, and beauty, so much so that anyone would be well who had seen her just once. She was so desired by kings and lords that her beauty had inflamed all the world, so well stood she in grace with every creature. 1003
When Aeneas had come to that place, secretly he made his way to the chief temple of the whole town, where Dido was at her devotions. When he was come into the broad temple, I cannot say if it would be possible, but Venus made him invisible. Thus says the book, I promise you. And when Aeneas and Achates had been over this entire temple, they found painted on a wall how Troy and all the land had been destroyed. 1014
"Alas, that I was born!" said Aeneas, "our shame is known so far over the entire world that now it is depicted on every side. We who were in prosperity are now defamed, and that so grievously that I care to live no longer." And with these words he burst out weeping so tenderly that it was pitiful to behold. 1026
This lovely lady, queen of the city, stood in the temple in royal state, so splendid and so fair, so young, so joyous, with her glad eyes, that, if the god who made heaven and earth had desired a love, for beauty and goodness and womanhood and seemliness and fidelity, whom should he have loved but this sweet lady? There was no woman half so fitting. 1034
Fortune, that governs the world, speedily brought in so strange a chance that never yet was there so rare a case. For all the company of Aeneas, which he deemed had been lost in the sea, came to shore not far from that city. Therefore some of the greatest of his lords by chance came to the city to that same temple to seek the queen and entreat her for aid, for such renown of her goodness had spread. And when they had related all their distress, and their tempest and their hard case, Aeneas showed himself to the queen and freely told who he was. Then who were more joyful than his men, who had found their lord, their ruler? 1043
The queen saw how they did him such honor, and had often heard of Aeneas before that, and in her heart she had pity and woe that ever so noble a man had so lost his heritage. And she beheld the man, that he was like a knight, and well endowed in person and strength, and likely to be a courteous man, and was fair of his speech, and had a noble face, and was well formed in brawn and bone. For, taking after Venus, he had such fairness that no man could be half so fair, I believe. And he well seemed to be a lord. And because he was a stranger she liked him somewhat better; as--God save us--to some people a new thing is often sweet. Before long her heart pitied his woe, and with that pity love also came; and thus out of pity and courtesy he would need to be comforted in his distress. 1060
She said, surely, that she was sorry that he had had such peril and such mishap. And in her friendly speech she spoke to him thus and said as you may hear: "Are you not the son of Venus and Anchises? In good faith, you shall have all the worship and assistance that I can rightly give you. Your ships and your followers I will protect." She spoke many courteous words and commanded her messengers to go that same day without fail to seek his ships and fill them with provisions; she sent many beasts to the ships, and presented them with wine as well. And she rushed to her royal palace, and she always had Aeneas near her. 1081
What need is there to describe the feast to you? He was never better at ease in his life. The festival was well provided with dainties and with splendor, with instruments of music, song and gladness; and many were the amorous glances and schemes. Aeneas had come into Paradise out of the mouth of hell; and thus in bliss he recalled his state in Troy. After the meal, Aeneas was led to dancing-halls, full of fine hangings and rich couches and ornaments. And when he had sat down with the queen, and spices had been served and wine passed around, he was led before long to his chambers, to take his ease and have his rest, and all his men likewise, to do just as they wished. 1097
There was no well bridled war horse, nor fine jousting steed, nor large easy-to-ride palfrey, nor jewel adorned all over with rich gems, nor fully weighted sacks full of gold, nor any ruby that shone by night, nor noble high-flying falcon for hunting herons, nor hound for hart or wild boar or deer, nor cup of gold, nor florins newly coined, which could be procured in the land of Libya, that Dido did not send to Aeneas. And all that he would have spent she paid. Thus could this honorable queen call upon her guests as one who knew how to surpass all in generosity. 1113
Aeneas, truly, sent also unto his ship by Achates for his son, and for rich gear, including scepter, clothes, brooches and rings as well, some to wear, and some to present to her who had given him all these noble things. And he told his son to make the presentation and take the gift to the queen. This Achates returned, and Aeneas was eager and glad to see his young son Ascanius. But nevertheless, our author tells us, that Cupid, who is the god of Love, at the prayer of his mother on high had taken on the likeness of the child, to enamor this noble queen of Aeneas. (But as to that text, be it as it may, I pay no attention to it. But true it is that the queen made such to-do about this child that it is wondrous to hear of; and with good will she thanked him often for the gift that his father sent. 1149
Thus was the queen in delight and joy with all these new, pleasant people of Troy. And she further inquired about the deeds of Aeneas, and learned the entire story of Troy. And the two of them decided to converse and amuse themselves all long day. From this there was bred such a flame that luckless Dido had such a strong desire to become intimate with her new guest Aeneas that she lost her color and her health as well. 1159
Now for the conclusion, the fruit of it all, the reason I have told this story, and shall continue it. Thus I begin; it happened one night, when the moon had lifted up her beams, that this noble queen went to her rest, sighed sorely, and tormented herself; she waked and tossed, started up many times as lovers usually do, as I have heard. And at last she made her moan to her sister Anna, and spoke thus: "Now, my dear sister, what can it be that makes me so aghast in my dream? This Trojan is so in my thoughts, because it seems to me he is so well formed and so likely to be a worthy man, and know so much goodness as well, that all my love and life lie in his keeping. Have you not heard him tell of his adventures? Now surely, Anna, if you counsel me so, I would gladly be wedded to him. This is all; what more should I say? In him it all lies, to make me live or die." 1181
Her sister Anna, as she saw her advantage, spoke as she thought and somewhat withstood her; but at this point there was so much discourse that it would be too long to retell. To sum it all up, the thing could not be withstood; love will love, it will hold back for no person. The dawn arose out of the sea; this amorous queen charged her attendants to prepare the nets and the spears broad and sharp. She wished to go hunting, this lusty, lovely queen, as this new sweet pain urged her. 1192
On horse went all her lusty company, the hounds were led to the courtyard, and upon chargers swift as thought her young knights hovered all around, and a huge company of her women as well. Upon a stout palfrey white as paper, with a red saddle adorned delightfully, clearly embossed with bars of gold, sat Dido all covered with gold and gems, and she as fair as the bright morning that heals the sick of the night's sorrow. Upon a charger that leapt like flame (though one could turn him with a little bridle-bit) Aeneas sat, like Phoebus in his looks, so splendidly was he arrayed in his fashion; and governed his charger as he would, by the foamy bridle with a golden bit. 1209
And thus I let this noble queen ride forth in her hunting, with this Trojan by her. The herd of harts was found before long, with "Ho! Faster! Spur on! Loose the dogs! Loose them! Why won't the lion come, or the bear, that I might meet him once with this spear?" Thus cried these young people, and on they went killing all these wild harts, and had them as they wished. 1217
Amid all this the heavens began to rumble, the thunder roared with grisly voice; down came the rain thick with hail and sleet and heaven's fire; so sorely it frightened this noble queen and her attendants as well that each was glad to flee away. And in brief, to save her from the tempest she fled into a little cave, and with her went Aeneas also. I know not if any more went with them; the author makes no mention of that. 1228
And here began the deep devotion between the two of them; this was the first morning of their gladness, and the beginning of their sorrow. For there Aeneas so kneeled, and told her all his heart and his pain, and swore so deeply to be true to her in happiness or in woe, and to exchange her for no other--as a false lover so well knows how to make his plaint--that hapless Dido pitied his woe, and took him for a husband, to be his wife for evermore so long as they should live. And after this, when the tempest ceased, they came out in joy and went home. 1241
Evil Rumor arose, and arose quickly, how Aeneas had gone with the queen into the cave. And people judged as they wished. And when the king named Yrbas knew of it, since he had always loved her and wooed her, to win her as his wife, he made such sorrow and sad expressions that it was pitiful and heart-rending to see. But in love it happens ever so, that one shall laugh at another's sorrow; now Aeneas laughs, and is in more bliss and wealth than ever he was in Troy. 1253
O unfortunate woman, innocent, full of pity, faith, and tenderness, why did you so trust men? Had you such pity upon their pretended woe, even though you had before you so many old examples? Do you not see how they all perjured themselves? Where do you see one who has not forsaken his beloved or been unkind or done to her some mischief or robbed her or boasted of his acts to her? You can see this as well as you can read it. 1263
Take heed now of this great gentleman, this Trojan, who so well knew how to please her, who pretended to be so true and yielding, so courteous and so discreet in his deeds; who knew so well how to perform all due observances, and attend her pleasure at dances and feasts and when she went to the temple and back again home; and who fasted until he had seen his lady, and wore in his heraldic devices I know not what for her sake; and who would compose songs, and joust and do many deeds at arms, and send her letters, tokens, brooches, rings. Now hear how he shall serve his lady! After he had been in peril of death from hunger and misadventures on the sea, and desolate, fugitive from his country, and all his company scattered by the tempest, she gave her body and her realm as well into his hand, when she might have been a queen of another land besides Carthage and lived in sufficiency of joy. What more would you want? 1284
This Aeneas, who had vowed so deeply, was weary of the business before long, and his hot earnestness had all blown by. Secretly he had his ships prepared and planned to steal away by night. This Dido suspected it and well thought that all was not right; for in the night he lay in his bed and sighed. Without delay she asked him what displeased him: "my dear heart, whom I love best?" 1293
"Surely," he said, "this night my father's spirit has so sorely troubled me in my sleep, and Mercury as well has delivered a message, that it is my destiny to sail soon for I must conquer Italy. For this it seems to me my heart is broken" With this his false tears burst forth, and he took her in his two arms. 1302
"Is that in earnest?" she said. "Will you do so? Have you not sworn to take me as your wife? Alas! What kind of a woman will you make of me! I am a gentlewoman and a queen! You will not thus foully flee from your wife? Alas, that I was born! What shall I do?" 1308
To tell it briefly, this noble Queen Dido sought shrines and made sacrifices; she knelt and cried so that it is pitiful to relate. She implores him and offers to be his slave, his servant of the lowest rank. She fell at his feet and swooned, her shining golden hair disheveled, and cried, "Have mercy! Let me go with you! These lords who are my neighbors will destroy me, only because of you. And, so you will take me now as your wife, as you have sworn, then I will give you leave to slay me with your sword right now this evening, for then I shall die wedded to you. I am with child: grant my child life! Mercy, lord! Have pity in your thought!" 1324
But all this was to no avail for her; for one night he let her lie sleeping and stole away to his followers, and as a traitor he sailed forth toward the great land of Italy. Thus he left Dido in woe and pain; and there he wedded a lady named Lavinia. 1331
He left a garment and his sword also standing right at the head of her bed, when he stole away from Dido in her sleep, so he hastened to reach his ships. This garment, when hapless Dido awoke, she kissed often for his sake, and said, "O you garment, so sweet while it pleased Jupiter, take my soul now, unbind me from this unrest! I have run through the whole course of fortune." And then she swooned twenty times, without any aid from Aeneas. And when she had made her lament to her sister Anna--of which I cannot write, such pity I have to tell of it--she bade her nurse and her sister to go fetch fire and other things right away, and said she wished to make a sacrifice. And when she saw her time, she leaped on the sacrificial fire, and with his sword she stabbed herself to the heart. 1350
But before she was wounded, before she died, she said this, as my author tells; she wrote a letter without delay, which began in this way: "Just as the white swan," she said, "begins to sing against the time of his death, so to you I make my lament; not that I hope to get you back, for well I know that is all in vain, because the gods are contrary to me. But since my good name is lost through you, I may well lose a word or a message upon you, albeit I shall be never better for that. For the same wind that blew away your ship has blown away your good faith." But whosoever wishes to know this entire letter, let him read Ovid; there he shall find it. 1367
Explicit Legenda Didonis Martiris, Cartaginis Regine.*
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37 Incipit Legenda Didonis martiris, Cartaginis Regine. Here begins the Legend of Dido, Martyr.
38 Sister of Phoebus. Diana, or Artemis, goddess of the moon, forest, animals, the hunt, and patron of women in childbirth and of virgins. In the last capacity, she figures into much of Chaucer's work (and Shakespeare's) as the figure of those who choose not to enter into the game of love.
39 Explicit Legenda Didonis Martiris, Cartaginis Regine. Here ends the Legend of Dido, Martyr, Queen of Carthage.
Translated and Edited by Gerard NeCastro
© Copyright, 2007, All Rights Reserved
Citation. Chaucer, Geoffrey. The Legend of Good Women. NeCastro, Gerard, ed. and trans. eChaucer: https://www.echaucer.com. [Site Visit Date.]
