Dido
(Elissa)

There are two distinct stories of Dido ('wanderer'), queen of Carthage. It is generally believed that Virgil took a "quasi-historical tradition from the eighth century B.C. and moved it to the twelfth century B.C. to coincide with the events on which he based the Aeneid" (Bell, 164).

A summary of the version of Dido' story which takes place in the eighth century B.C. can be found in Robert Bell's Women of Classical Mythology. However, for the purposes of this website, the story that Virgil portrays, in which Dido was a contemporary of Aeneas, will be told.

According to Virgil, Dido was married to Sychaeus. Dido's brother, Pygmalion, murdered Sychaeus out of greed. The shade of Sychaeus appeared to Dido in a dream, and Dido fled from her homeland.

She arrived in the land which would then become Carthage. According to legend, Hiarbas, a king in the area near Carthage, agreed to let Dido buy as much land as she could cover with a bull's hide.

Dido then cut the hide into tiny strips, and with the strips surrounded a large area of land, which she called Byrsa, naming it from the hide of the bull (Bell, 164).

In the Aeneid, Venus tells Aeneas of Dido's flight from Tyre to Carthage.

(IV.335) Tum Venus: "Haud equidem tali me dignor honore;
virginibus Tyriis mos est gestare pharetram,
purpureoque alte suras vincire cothurno.
Punica regna vides, Tyrios et Agenoris urbem;
sed fines Libyci, genus intractabile bello.
Imperium Dido Tyria regit urbe profecta,
germanum fugiens. Longa est iniuria, longae
ambages; sed summa sequar fastigia rerum.

"Huic coniunx Sychaeus erat, ditissimus agri
Phoenicum, et magno miserae dilectus amore,
cui pater intactam dederat, primisque iugarat
omnibus. Sed regna Tyri germanus habebat
Pygmalion scelere ante alios immanior omnes.
Quos inter medius venit furor. Ille Sychaeum
impius ante aras, atque auri caecus amore,
clam ferro incautum superat, securus amorum
germanae; factumque diu celavit,
multa malus simulans, vana spe lusit amantem.

"Ipsa sed in somnis inhumati venit imago
coniugis ora modis attollens pallida miris,
crudeles aras traiectaque pectora ferro
nudavit, caecumque domus scelus omne retexit.
Tum celerare fugam patriaque excedere suadet,
auxiliumque via veteres tellure recludit
thesauros, ignotum argenti pondus et auri.

"His commota fugam Dido sociosque parabat:
conveniunt, quibus aut odium crudele tyranni
aut metus acer erat; naves, quae forte paratae,
corripiunt, onerantque auro: portantur avari
Pygmalionis opes pelago; dux femina facti.

"Devenere locos, ubi nunc ingentia cernes
moenia surgentemque novae Kathaginis arcem,
mercatique solum, facti de nomine Byrsam,
taurino quantum possent circumdare tergo."

Then Venus [said]: "But I confess I do not deem myself of such honor; the custom of Tyrian maidens is to wear a quiver, and to bind the purple hunting boot high on the calf of the leg. You see the Punic (Carthaginian) kingdoms, the Tyrians and the city of Agenor; but Libyan territories, the race invincible in war. The empire Dido rules having been driven from the city of Tyre, fleeing her brother. Long is her injustice, long are the details; but I will tell the highest chief points of things.

"To Dido, Sychaeus was husband, richest in the land of Phoenicians, and beloved with great love of the miserable one, to whom her father had given her pure and had joined them with the best omens. But her brother, Pygmalion, crueler before all others in crime, held the kingdoms of Tyre. Among them (Sychaeus, Dido and Pygmalion) anger came in the middle. That impius one (Pygmalion) before the altars, and blind with love of gold, secretely overwhelms the unsuspecting Sychaeus with iron, heedless of the love of his sister; and the deed for a long time he hid, the evil one (Pygmalion) faking many things, makes sport of the heartsick loving [wife] with empty hope.

"But the image of the unburried spouse (Sychaeus) itself came in her sleep, lifting up the pallid lips in strange manners, he laid bare the cruel altars and heart pierced with iron, and uncovered all of the dark wickedness of the house. Then he advises her to flee quickly and go forth from the fatherland, and to help her on her way reveals old treasures in the ground, and unknown amount of silver and gold.

"Moved by these [words], Dido prepared her flight and her companions: they assemble, those to whom there was cruel hatred to the tyrant and fierce fear; they seized the ships, which chanced to be ready, and load the gold: the wealth of greedy Pygmalion is carried on the sea; a woman was the leader of the expedition.

"They landed at the places, where now you will see huge walls and the rising citadel of new Carthage, and they bought land, [called] Byrsa from the name of the deed, as much as they could surround with a bull's hide."

Aeneas, leaving from Troy, came upon Carthage.

In the Aeneid, Aeneas first catches sight of Dido as she arrives at a temple. Dido is described not only as beautiful, but she is also described as an active and fair queen, giving "orders and laws to men" and giving labor in "equal parts, or determined by lot." Under Dido's rule, Carthage flourished.

(IV.496) regina ad templum, forma pulcherrima Dido,
incessit magna iuvenum stipante caterva.
Qualis in Eurotae ripis aut per iuga Cynthi
exercet Diana choros, quam mille secutae
hin atque hinc glomerantur Oreades; illa pharetram
fert umero, gradiensque deas supereminet omnes:
Latonae tacitum pertemptant gaudia pectus:
talis erat Dido, talem se laeta ferebat
per medios, instans operi regnisque futuris.
Tum foribus divae, media testudine templi,
saepta armis, solioque alte subnix resedit.
Iura dabat legesque viris, operumque laborem
partibus aequabat iustis, aut sorte trahebat.
The queen, Dido most beautiful in form, approaches toward the temple, a big throng of [male] youths crowding around. Such as on the Eurota banks or through the rides of Cynthus Diana exercizes her dancers, in whose followers a thousand Oreades (mountain nymphs) gather here and there; she carries a quiver on her shoulder and, walking, she towers above all the goddess': Joys thrill Latona's (mother of Apollo and Diana) silent heart: such was Dido, such she bore herself happily through the middle [of the crowd], and urging on the work and the future kingdom. Then at the doorway of the goddess' [temple], in the middle of the vault of the temple, protected by armed [men], and she sat up high, leaning on her throne. She gave orders and laws to men, and equalized the labor of the work in equal parts, or determined by lot.

Dido took Aeneas and his tattered fleet in and listened to their story. Then, whether at the will of Aphrodite or not, Dido fell in love with Aeneas.

In the Aeneid, Virgil likens Dido in love to a wounded deer. Dido also neglects her duties to Carthage as a result of her love. Virgil writes:

(IV.65) Heu vatum ignarae mentes! Quid vota furentem,
quid delubra iuvant? Est molles flamma medullas
interea, et tacitum vivit sub pectore vulnus.

Uritur infelix Dido, totaque vagatur
urbe furens, qualis coniecta cerva sagitta,
quam procul incautam nemora inter Cresia fixit
pastor agens telis, liquitque volatile ferrum
nescius; illa fuga silvas saltusque peragrat
Dictaeos; haeret later, letalis harundo.
Nune media Aenean secum per moenia ducit,
Sidoniasque ostentat opes urbemque paratam;
incipit effari, mediaque in voce resistit;
nunc eadem labente die convivia quaerit,
Iliacosque iterum demens audire labores
exposcit, pendetque iterum narrantis ab ore.

Post, ubi digressi, lumenque obscura vicissim
luna premit suadentque cadentia sidera somnos,
sola domo maeret vacua, stratisque relictis
incubant, illum absens absentem auditque videtque;
aut gremio Ascanium, genitoris imagine capta,
detinet, infandum si fallere possit amorem.

Non coeptae assurgunt turres, non arma iuventus
exercet, portusve aut propugnacula bello
tuta parant; pendent opera interrupta, minaeque
murorum ingentes aequataque machina caelo.

O how blind are the minds of the soothsayers! How do sacrifices help one crazed in love, how do temples help? Meanwhile the flame consumes the soft marrow, and a silent wound lives under her chest.

Unlucky Dido is consumed [with love], and through all the city, raving, she wanders, just as a deer when an arrow having been hurled [would wander], a shepherd hunting with weapons fixed it unaware among the Cretan grove at a distance, and [unaware] released the volatile iron; she traverses the forest and brush of Dictaen in flight; the lethal shaft clings to her side. Now she leads Aeneas with her through the middle of the walls, and shows the Sidonian wealth and the prepared city; she begins to speak, and resisted in the middle of her voice; now she yet again asks for the banquets the day having slipped away, and madly demands to hear the labors of the Trojans again, and she hangs again from the mouth of the narrating one.

After, when [the guests] have gone, and the obscure moon in turn presses the light and the falling constellations urged sleep, alone in the empty house she mourned, and she, on the couches that he has left, reclines and separated she sees and hears that one missing; or Ascanius on her lap, charmed by the image of his father, she holds, and if [to see] whether she could deceive the unspeakable love.

The towers which she had begun no longer rise, the youth do not train their arms, neither the gates nor the safe defenses prepare for war and the works hang interrupted, and the huge threatening walls and the machines [of war] equal to heaven.

 

One day Dido, Aeneas, and a large group of people go out on a hunt. A storm commences and Dido and Aeneas both take refuge in a cave.

In the cave, an odd sort of marriage between Dido and Aeneas occurs, which Virgil describes below.

(IV.160) Interea magno misceri murmure caelum
incipt; insequitur commixta grandine nimbus;
et Tyrii comites passim et Troiana iuventus
Dardaniusque nepos Veneris diversa per agros
tecta metu petiere; ruunt de montibus amnes.

Speluncam Dido dux et Troianus eandem
deveniunt: prima et Tellus et pronuba luno
dant signum; fulsere ignes et conscius aether
conubiis, summoque ulularunt vertice nymphae.
Ille dies primus leti primusque malorum
causa fuit; neque enim specie famave movetur,
nec iam furtivum Dido meditatur amorem:
coniugium vocat; hoc praetexit nomine culpam.

Meanwhile the sky begins to be mixed with a great murmur; the rainstorm intermixed with hail follows; and the Tyrian companions everywhere and Trojan youth and the Dardanian grandson of Venus (Ascanius), scattered through the fields, seek shelter in fear; the rivers rush from the mountain.

Dido the leader and the Trojan arrive at the same cave: and both primal Earth and Juno as the maid of honor give the signal; fires flash and heaven is a witness to the wedding, and nymphs wail from the summit of the cliff. That was the first day of her ruin and the first cause for sorrows; for she is not moved by her appearance or reputation, now Dido no longer thinks of her love as a secret: she calls it marriage; she hides her fault by this name.

 

Aeneas, however, is instructed by the gods to leave Carthage so that he can fulfill his destiny. Rumor of Aeneas' departure flies about Carthage, and Dido confronts Aeneas, stating:

(IV.305) "Dissimulare etiam sperasti, perfide, tantum
posse nefas tacitusque mea decedere terra?

Nec te noster amor, nec te data dextera quondam,
nec moritura tenet crudeli funere Dido?
Quin etiam hiberno moliris sidere classem,
et mediis properas aquilonibus ire per altum,
crudelis? Quid, si non arva aliena domosque
ignotas peteres, sed Troia antiqua maneret,
Troia per undosum peteretur classibus aequor?

Mene fugis? Per ego has lacrimas dextramque tuam te
(quando aliud mihi iam miserae nihil ipsa reliqui),
per conubia nostra, per inceptos hymenaeos,
si bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quicquam
dulce meum, miserere domus labentis, et istam -
oro, si quis adhuc precibus locus - exue mentem.

Te propter Libycae gentes Nomadumque tyranni
odere, infensi Tyrii; te propter eundem
exstinctus pudor, et, qua sola sidera adibam,
fama prior. Cui me moribundam deseris, hospes?
Hoc solum nomen quoniam de coniuge restat.
Quid moror? An mea Pygmalion dum moenia frater
destruat, aut captam ducat Gaetulus Iarbas?

Saltem si qua mihi de te suscepta fuisset
ante fugam suboles, si quis mihi parvulus aula
luderet Aeneas, qui te tamen ore referret,
non equidem omnino capta ac deserta viderer."

"Did you hope likewise, treacherous [man], that you would be able to conceal such a crime and stealthily leave from my land?

"Does not our love hold you, does not your right hand (pledge), having been already given, hold you, does not Dido about to die in a bitter death hold you? Why even in the winter season would you prepare your fleet, and hasten to go to sea through the middle of harsh winds? What, if you do not aim for alien lands and strange homes, but if ancient Troy remained, would Troy be sought with your fleets through this billowing sea?

"From me are you fleeing? Through these tears and your right hand (since I have left nothing else for my miserable self now), through our marriage, through the marriage having begun, if I deserved rightly what from you, or if there was anything sweet in me for you, to pity my sinking house and this - I beg you, if there is any place for my prayers till now - discard this resolve [to leave].

"On account of you Libyan races and Numidian tyrants hate [me], Tyrians are estranged; on account of the same you [my] reputation has been extinguished, and by which alone I was reaching the constellations [with immortal fame]. To whom do you desert me about to die, guest? Since only this name remains from your marriage. Why do I delay my death? Until brother Pygmalion destroys my walls, or Gaetulian Iarbus leads me as a captive?

"At least if there had been for me any child having been born from you before your flight, if for me some small Aeneas were playing in the palace who might resemble you in the face afterall, so that I would not indeed seem entirely captured and deserted."

When Aeneas finally departs, Dido is devastated and enraged. For Aeneas she had sacrificed her reputation and her kingdom, and for Aeneas she had given her love. Dido, seeing no where else to turn, decides to kill herself, as Virgil describes below.

(IV.642) At trepida, et coeptis immanibus effera Dido,
sanguineam volvens aciem, maculisque trementes
interfusa genas, et pallida morte futura,
interiora domus irrumpit limina, et altos
conscendit furibunda rogos, ensemque recludit
Dardanium, non hos quaesitum munus in usus.

Hic, postquam Iliacas vestes notumque cubile
conspexit, paulum lacrimis et mente morata,
incubuitque toro, dixitque novissima verba:

"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;
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.
Hauriat hunc oculis ignem crudelis ab alto
Dardanus, et nostrae secum ferat omina mortis."


Dixerat; atque illam media inter talia ferro
collapsam aspiciunt comites, ensemque cruore
spumantem, sparsasque manus.

It clamor ad alta
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 antique Tyros, flammaeque furentes
culmina perque hominum volvantur perque deorum.

But fearful, and Dido fierce with the huge things begun, turning her bloodshot eye, and her cheeks trembling infused with spots, and pallid because of the future death, she breaks into the inner-thresholds of her house and, frenzied, she climbs up the high funeral pyre and she unsheatheed the Dardanian sword, not sought as a gift in these usages.

Here, after she noticed Illian garments on the famous couch, delaying a little with tears and a thought, she reclined on the couch, and she said very new words:

"Dear momentos, as long as the fates and the god allowed it, take this spirit, and set me free from these cares. I have lived and I have acted out the course which fortune had given, and now the great image of me will go under the grounds. I have established a renowned city; I have seen my walls; I have avenged a man, I have exacted penalties from a harsh brother; happy, O! [I would be] too happy, if only the Dardanian keels had never touched our shores!"

She spoke, and pressing her mouth to the bed, "We will die unavenged, but let us die," she said. "Thus, thus it helps to go under the shadows. Let that cruel Dardanian drink in this fire with his eyes from the deep, and let him take omens of our death with him."

She had spoken; and also in between such words her attendants notice her, fallen in the middle on the sword, and the sword foaming with blood, and her hands stained.

A shout rises to the high halls; Rumor flies wildly through the startled city. With laments and a groan and a feminine shriek, the roofs tremble: the thin air resounds with great wailings, not differently than if all Carthage or ancient Tyre were sinking in ruins with let-in enemies, and flames raging both through the roofs of men and turning through [the roofs] of gods.

Most references have Dido meeting her tragic end atop a funeral pyre.

The curses Dido puts on the Trojans come true via the Punic Wars, which took place between Carthage and Rome (Hornblower, 467).

Edward Tripp writes that "Since Dido's other name, Elissa, and those of her husband and her sister, Anna, seem to be versions of Semitic names, it is likely that the story contains genuine elements of some Phoenician myth. It is believed by many scholars that Dido, and perhaps other characters in the story, were Phoenician divinities" (Tripp 201).

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