“Dido, do forlorn,
The story then that came to me was true,
That you were out of life, had met your end
By your own hand. Was I, was I the cause?
I swear by heaven’s stars, by the high gods,
By any certainty below the earth,
I left your land against my will, my queen.
The gods’ commands drove me to do their will,
As now they drive me through this world of shades,
These mouldy waste lands and depths of night.
And I could not believe that I would hurt you
So terribly by going. Wait a little.
Do not leave my sight.
Am I someone to flee from? The last word
Destiny lets me say to you is this.”
– Virgil, The Aeneid (Book VI, 613-628)
