To be captured with him as victor was like this: learn the mild wrath of Hercules.
§731an sola placent Herculis arma?
Or do only the arms of Hercules please you?
§732iacet ante pedes non minor illo §733supplice supplex vitamque petit— §734regnum Troiae §735quocumque volet Fortuna ferat.
A suppliant no less than that one lies before your feet, and begs for life— the kingdom of Troy, let Fortune carry it wherever she wishes.
§736Matris quidem me maeror attonitae movet, §737magis Pelasgae me tamen matres movent, §738quarum iste magnos crescit in luctus puer.
Indeed, the grief of the distracted mother moves me, yet the Pelasgian mothers move me more, for whom that boy is growing up into a cause of great grief.
§739Has, has ruinas urbis in cinerem datae
These, these ruins of the city turned to ashes, will this one raise up?
§740hic excitabit? hae manus Troiam erigent?
Will these hands rebuild Troy?
§741nullas habet spes Troia, si tales habet.
Troy has no hope if she has such as these.
We Trojans do not lie so low that we can be a fear to anyone.
spiritus genitor fecit?
Did his father inspire his spirit?
But surely, dragged as he was, the father himself after Troy's fall would have laid aside his pride, which great misfortunes break.
§746si poena petitur, (quae peti gravior potest?) §747famulare collo nobili subeat iugum, §748servire liceat, aliquis hoc regi negat?
If punishment is sought (and what heavier can be sought?), let him submit his noble neck to the slavish yoke, let him be allowed to serve; does anyone deny this to a king?
§749Non hoc Vlixes, sed negat Calchas tibi.
Not Ulysses, but Calchas denies this to you.
§750O machinator fraudis et scelerum artifex, §751virtute cuius bellica nemo occidit, §752dolis et astu maleficae mentis iacent
O schemer of deceit and craftsman of crimes, by whose warlike valor no one has fallen, while by the tricks and cunning of your wicked mind even Pelasgians lie low.
§753etiam Pelasgi, vatem et insontes deos
Do you hold out as a pretext the prophet and the innocent gods?
§754praetendis? hoc est pectoris facinus tui.
This is the villainy of your own breast.
O nocturnal soldier, brave only for the slaughter of a boy, now at last, alone, you dare something even in broad daylight.
The valor of Ulysses is well enough known to the Danai and only too well to the Phrygians.
non vacat vanis diem §759conterere verbis: ancoras classis legit.
There is no leisure to waste the day in vain words: the fleet is gathering its anchors.
§760Brevem moram largire, dum officium parens §761nato supremum reddo et amplexu ultimo §762avidos dolores satio.
Grant a brief delay, while I, a parent, pay my last duty to my son, and with a final embrace satisfy my eager grief.
Would that it were permitted to pity you!
But, what alone is permitted, we will give time and delay for you, at your own choice, to fill yourself with tears: weeping lightens woes.
§766O dulce pignus, o decus lapsae domus §767summumque Troiae funus, o Danaum timor, §768genetricis o spes vana, cui demens ego §769laudes parentis bellicas, annos avi §770demens precabar, vota destituit deus.
O sweet pledge, o glory of a fallen house, and ultimate death of Troy, o fear of the Danai, o vain hope of your mother, for whom I, mad that I was, your father's warlike praises and your grandfather's years madly prayed for: the god has abandoned my vows.
§775non arma tenera patria tractabis manu §776sparsasque passim saltibus latis feras §777audax sequeris nec stato lustri die, §778solemne referens Troici lusus sacrum, §779puer citatas nobilis turmas ages; §780non inter aras mobili velox pede, §781reboante flexo concitos cornu modos, §782barbarica prisco templa saltatu coles.
You will not wield your country's weapons with a tender hand, or pursue the wild beasts scattered far and wide through the broad forests with bold courage; nor on the appointed day of the lustrum, bringing back the solemn ritual of the Trojan game, as a noble boy, will you lead the swift squadrons; nor swift with nimble foot among the altars, to the quick rhythms of the curved horn resounding, will you worship the barbaric temples with ancient dance.
§771Iliaca non tu sceptra regali potens §772gestabis aula, iura nec populis dabis §773victasque gentes sub tuum mittes iugum, §774non Graia caedes terga, non Pyrrhum trahes.
You will not, powerful in the royal palace, wield the sceptre of Ilium, nor give laws to the peoples, and send conquered nations beneath your yoke; you will not slash Greek backs, nor drag Pyrrhus.
§783o Marte diro tristius leti genus!
O manner of death more sorrowful than dire war!
Something more tearful than the death of great Hector the walls will behold.
Break off your weeping now, mother: great grief does not make an end for itself.
The delay we ask for tears, Ulysses, is but small; grant patiently that I may close with my own hand the eyes of him while living.
You die small indeed, but already to be feared.
Troia te expectat tua: §791i, vade liber, liberos Troas vide.
Your Troy awaits you: go, depart free, and see the free Trojans.
§792Miserere, mater.
Pity me, mother.
Why do you cling to my breast, and hold to your mother's hands, a useless defense?
§794fremitu leonis qualis audito tener §795timidum iuvencus applicat matri latus, §796at ille saevus matre summota loco §797praedam minorem morsibus vastis tenens §798frangit venitque: talis e nostro sinu
Just as a tender young steer, having heard the lion's roar, presses his frightened side against his mother, but that fierce beast, having driven the mother from her place, holding the smaller prey in his vast jaws, crushes and goes away: even so from my bosom the enemy will snatch you.
§799te rapiet hostis, oscula et fletus, puer, §800lacerosque crines excipe et plenus mei §801occurre patri;
Receive, my boy, kisses and tears, and torn hair, and full of me go to meet your father.
pauca maternae tamen §802perfer querelae verba: 'si manes habent §803curas priores nec perit flammis amor, §804servire Graio pateris Andromachen viro, §805crudelis Hector? lentus et segnis iaces?
Yet, carry to him these few words of maternal complaint: "If the shades retain their former cares, and love does not perish in the flames, do you suffer Andromache to serve a Greek husband, cruel Hector?
§806redit Achilles.
Do you lie slow and inactive?
' sume nunc iterum comas §807et sume lacrimas, quicquid e misero viri §808funere relictum est, sume quae reddas tuo §809Oscula parenti, matris hanc solacio
Achilles is returned." Take now again my hair, and take my tears, whatever is left from your husband's wretched death; take the kisses which you may return to your parent.
Leave this garment for your mother's comfort: my tomb and my beloved shades have touched it.
si quid hic cineris latet, §812scrutabor ore.
If any of his ash lies hidden here, I will search for it with my lips.
There is no limit to weeping: drag him away quickly, break the delay of the Argive fleet.
§814Quae vocat sedes habitanda captas?
What dwelling place calls us captives to inhabit?
The Thessalian mountains and shaded Tempe, or Iolcos, conqueror of the vast sea?