" I won’t hold you, I won’t even refute you — go! —
strike out for Italy on the winds, your realm across the sea.
I hope, I pray, if the just gods still have any power,
wrecked on the rocks mid-sea you’ll drink your bowl
of pain to the dregs, crying out the name of Dido
over and over, and worlds away I’ll hound you then
with pitch-black flames, and when icy death has severed
my body from its breath, then my ghost will stalk you
through the world! You’ll pay, you shameless, ruthless —
and I will hear of it, yes, the report will reach me
even among the deepest shades of Death! "

― Virgil , The Aeneid