tum secreta trahens Phoebeum ad litora Mopsum quaenam ait ista lues, aut quae sententia divum? decretusne venit fato pavor? an sibi nectunt corda moras? cur immemores famaeque larisque angimur? aut pariet quemnam haec ignavia finem?   Dicam ait ac penitus causas labemque docebo Mopsus, et astra tuens non si mortalia membra sortitusque breves et parvi tempora fati perpetimur, socius superi quondam ignis Olympi, fas ideo miscere neces ferroque morantes exigere hinc animas redituraque semina caelo; quippe nec in ventos nec in ultima solvimur ossa; ira manet duratque dolor.
Then, drawing Mopsus, the seer of Phoebus, to a sequestered region of the shore, What means, he asks, this plague, or what is the mind of the gods? Is it by fates decree this terror comes? or do hearts contrive their own anxieties? Why forgetful of home and renown do we suffer anguish, or what end will this faint-heartedness bring to pass? I will tell thee, said Mopsus, and wholly explain the causes of this plague; then, looking at the stars, If we, who once were fire and high Olympus kin, suffer mortal frames and brief apportionments and a short span of destiny, it is not therefore right to engage in reckless slaughter and to drive hence with the sword souls that yet would tarry, and seeds that will one day return to heaven; for we are not dissolved into the breezes or into mere bones at the last: anger abides and grief endures.
final_alignments\Valerius_Flaccus_Argonautica_Book3.json