en dextra fidesque, quem secum patrios aiunt portare Penates, quem subiisse umeris confectum aetate parentem! non potui abreptum divellere corpus et undis spargere? non socios, non ipsum absumere ferro Ascanium patriisque epulandum ponere mensis? verum anceps pugnae fuerat fortuna.
Behold the pledge and promise of him who, so they say, carries with him his ancestral gods and bore his worn-out father on his shoulders! Could I not have seized him, torn him limb from limb, and scattered the pieces on the waves? Could I not have put his men to the sword, and Ascanius himself, and served him up as a meal at his fathers table? But perhaps the issue of battle had been doubtful?