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Notes Display Latin text | translated by Theodore C. Williams Book XI Chapter 4: A funeral truce | Next chapter Return to index Previous chapter |
Now envoys from the Latin citadel came olive-crowned, to plead for clemency: would he not yield those bodies of the dead sword-scattered o'er the plain, and let them lie beneath an earth-built tomb? Who wages war upon the vanquished, the unbreathing slain? To people once his hosts and kindred called, would he not mercy show? To such a prayer, deemed not unworthy, good Aeneas gave the boon, and this benignant answer made: Ye Latins, what misfortune undeserved has snared you in so vast a war, that now you shun our friendship? Have you here implored peace for your dead, by chance of battle fallen? Pain would I grant it for the living too. I sailed not hither save by Heaven's decree, which called me to this land. I wage no war with you, the people; t was your king [Note 1] refused our proffered bond of peace, and gave his cause to Turnus' arms. More meet and just it were had Turnus met this death that makes you mourn. If he would end our quarrel sword in hand, thrusting us Teucrians forth, t was honor's way to cross his blade with mine; that man to whom the gods, or his own valor, had decreed the longer life, had lived. But now depart! Beneath your lost friends light the funeral fires! So spoke Aeneas; and with wonder mute all stood at gaze, each turning to behold his neighbor's face. Note 1: king = Latinus |
100-121 Iamque oratores aderant ex urbe Latina uelati ramis oleae ueniamque rogantes: corpora, per campos ferro quae fusa iacebant, redderet ac tumulo sineret succedere terrae; nullum cum uictis certamen et aethere cassis; parceret hospitibus quondam socerisque uocatis. quos bonus Aeneas haud aspernanda precantis prosequitur uenia et uerbis haec insuper addit: 'quaenam uos tanto fortuna indigna, Latini, implicuit bello, qui nos fugiatis amicos? pacem me exanimis et Martis sorte peremptis oratis? equidem et uiuis concedere uellem. nec ueni, nisi fata locum sedemque dedissent, nec bellum cum gente gero; rex nostra reliquit hospitia et Turni potius se credidit armis. aequius huic Turnum fuerat se opponere morti. si bellum finire manu, si pellere Teucros apparat, his mecum decuit concurrere telis: uixet cui uitam deus aut sua dextra dedisset. nunc ite et miseris supponite ciuibus ignem.' dixerat Aeneas. illi obstipuere silentes conuersique oculos inter se atque ora tenebant. |