progredior portu, classis et litora linquens, sollemnis cum forte dapes et tristia dona ante urbem in luco falsi Simoentis ad undam libabat cineri Andromache, Manisque vocabat Hectoreum ad tumulum, viridi quem caespite inanem et geminas, causam lacrimis, sacraverat aras.
I advance from the harbour, leaving shore and fleet, just when, as it happened, Andromache, in a grove outside the city, by the waters of a mimic Simois, was offering her yearly feast and gifts of mourning to the dust, and calling the ghost to Hectors tomb'the empty mound of green turf that she had hallowed with twin altars, there to shed her tears.