And yet, unhappy sire, thou shalt not see
A son, whose death disgraced his ancestry:
Thou shall not blush, old man, however grieved:
Thy Pallas no dishonest wound received.
He died no death to make thee wish, too late,
Thou hadst not lived to see his shameful fate.
But what a champion has the Ausonian coast,
And what a friend hast thou, Ascanius, lost!"
Thus having mourned, he gave the word around,
To raise the breathless body from the ground;