The Tragedy of Queen Dido
No one can deny that the Eternal Mother Space has two rival aspects: Venus and Astaroth, Heva and Lilith, Sophia Achamoth and Sophia Prunikos.
Let us now talk about Venus—or it is better if we say, let us talk of Astaroth, which is its negative aspect, and Prakriti’s tenebrous antithesis in Nature and in the human being.
Long ago, over many centuries, we find how the heart of Queen Dido became inflamed by the cruelty of Kali. The unhappy sovereign did not want to comprehend that her passion was contrary to the will of the Holy Gods.
Oh Dido! Light of a delectable dream, flower from an enchanted myth, your admirable beauty sings the grace of Hermaphroditus with the aerial enchantment of Atalanta, and from your ambiguous form the evocative ancient Muse raises a hymn to the fire.
Thus, from the old wine poured down within the amphora, Aeneas thirstily drank. Therefore, Phoebus frowned his forehead, and Juno frowned her own as well, but nodding in assent, Kali Astaroth laughed as always when Eros untied his philter within the chalices of Hebe.
So, before meeting the illustrious Trojan man Aeneas, the saddened Queen spurned the love of Iarbas, the King of Libya, a courageous man who did not tolerate any offense, a terrific archer who dwelled with his people of war close to the African desert.
Poor Dido!... What a terrible intimate struggle she would have to endure between her sacred duty, the love of her people, and the cruel wound of Cupid, who began his destructive labor by incessantly erasing from the memory of the sovereign the image of Sychaeus, her former husband.
Lilith‑Astaroth... what damage you have caused! Goddess of desire and passions, Mother of Cupid... the human tempests shed blood from their hearts because of you. Thus, this is how, oh queen, you put your tremendous oath aside and into oblivion, by finding on the path of your life a Trojan who placed on your thirsty lips a new breath, a beautiful cup of delicious wine.
Then, when Cupid arrived, a wild triple flame was lit in your scarlet blood, and among grapevines of fire you delivered the vintage of your life to a dreadful sexual passion.
This beauty, whose terrible fate commanded with much tenderness that she be martyred, received from Lucifer a rare black pearl for her tiara of madness.
Thus, the unhappy queen consulted her dearest sister Anna, and both of them traversed the altars of their diverse Gods in search of presages that would favor her desires.
They immolated victims to Ceres, to Phoebus Apollo, and to Dionysus, and especially to Juno, who is the Goddess of women who work in the Ninth Sphere. Juno also presides over just and perfect nuptial ceremonies.
Many times (oh God!) the tragic queen bent herself over the open wounds of the innocent, sacrificed victims, inspecting their palpitating inner organs. Yet, an enamoured woman who has her consciousness asleep clearly will always be ready to interpret all the signs in favor of her dream.
From heaven, Juno, the Goddess of initiated women, was observing with indignation the tenebrous progress that Kali Astaroth was making upon the poor Dido, but all of Juno’s claims and protests were in vain.
Consumed by passion, the unhappy sovereign was walking in vigil every night, exclusively thinking of Aeneas.
Madly in love, the Trojan Aeneas rebuilt the walls of Carthage and worked in the fortification of this foreign city.
Ah! How distinct the fate of poor Dido would have been if Mercury, the messenger of the Gods, had not intervened.
The epic Trojan paladin had to march towards Lacinium, and to forget she who adored him. Such was the command of Jupiter, father of Gods and men.
"...You are not the son of a goddess and Dardanus was not the first founder of your family. It was the Caucasus that fathered you on its hard rocks and Hyrcanian tigers offered you their udders."
This is what the desperate, enraged sovereign exclaimed.
Useless were all of her complaints and her mourning... If this unhappy bride was not in Aulis, sacrificing to the Gods in order to invoke the destruction of the city of Priam, and if she was never in alliance with the Acheans, then why (oh God of mine!) should this unhappy woman have suffered so much?
This unfortunate sovereign, transformed into a slave by the cruel dart of sexual passion, was invoking death.
Useless were her offerings before the altar of the Goddess Juno, since animal passion receives no answer from the Gods.
Ah! If people only knew that the poison of animal passion cheats the mind and heart...
The disgraced queen believed herself to be in love; the dart of Cupid was inserted in her heart, but certainly in its depth, passion was what she felt.
So, the unhappy one cried upon the altar of Juno, and suddenly, the lustral water became black like a sackcloth of hair and the sacred wine of libation became red as blood.
Terrible were the moments... Upon the solitary dome of the palace, the owl of death sung his sinister song, and at times the sovereign dreamt of herself walking in a limitless desert in search of her adored Aeneas, or desperately escaping while being chased by the merciless Furies.
Nevertheless, the unhappy one did not ignore the magical, marvelous, and infallible procedures in order to forget her bestial passion.
"...Go now, telling no one (said she unto her sister Anna), and build up a pyre under the open sky in the inner courtyard of the palace and lay on it the armor this traitor has left hanging on the walls of my room; everything there is of his remaining, including that sword which was engraved with gold and that he offered as a present for our nuptial wedding which was never fulfilled, and the marriage bed on which I was destroyed, I want to wipe out everything that can remind me of such a man and that is what the priestess advised."
Disgracefully, the passionate sovereign—instead of burning in that funeral pyre the remains of this illustrious Trojan man —resolved to immolate herself in that fire in a sudden blaze of madness.
She tied her royal temples with the band of the victims destined for sacrifice, and at the foot of the funeral pyre, she took as her witnesses the hundred Gods, as well as Erebus, Chaos, and Hekate, the third aspect of the Divine Mother Space.
She, the unfortunate sovereign who could have utilized the magical effects of the lunar herbs by using them as a fuel for the incineration of memories, passion, and evil thoughts, instead, desired with violence to burn herself on the pyre of death.
She begged to the Sun, exclaimed to Juno, invoked the Furies of vengeance and committed the error of damning Aeneas, and finally, pierced her heart with the Trojan’s sword. Her sister found her already burning within the blazing fire of madness. This is how Queen Dido died.