feretro Pallanta reposto procubuit super atque haeret lacrimansque gemensque, et via vix tandem voci laxata dolore est: non haec, o Palla, dederas promissa parenti, cautius ut saevo velles te credere Marti.
as soon as the bier is set down, flings himself on Pallas, clinging to him amid tears and groans, till scarce at last does choking grief allow a path for speech: Not this, my Pallas, was the promise you gave your father, that you would with caution entrust yourself to the savage god of war.