1Meanwhile Dawn rose and left the Ocean: Aeneas, although his cares urge him to give time to burying his comrades and his mind is troubled by the death, was paying his vows to the gods as victor at first light. 5He sets up on a mound a huge oak, its branches lopped all round, and dresses it in gleaming arms, the spoils of the leader Mezentius, a trophy to you, great one, mighty in war: he fits on it the crests dripping with blood and the man's broken spears, and the breastplate struck and pierced in twice six places; he binds the bronze shield to its left hand and hangs the ivory sword from its neck.
12Then he exhorts his exultant comrades (for the whole throng of leaders crowded round and covered him), beginning thus: 'The greatest deed is done, men; 14let all fear be gone for what remains: these are the spoils and first fruits taken from a proud king, and this, by my hands, is Mezentius. 17Now our way lies to the king and the Latin walls. 18Make ready your arms in spirit and anticipate the war with hope, so that no delay may hinder you unawares, as soon as the gods above give the nod to pluck up the standards and lead the young men out of camp, and no purpose made sluggish by fear may slow you.
22Meanwhile let us commit our comrades and their unburied bodies to the earth, which is the only honour beneath deep Acheron. 24Go,' he says, 'honour with the last gifts those noble souls who with their blood have won for us this fatherland, and first let Pallas be sent to the grieving city of Evander, whom, not lacking in courage, the black day carried off and plunged in bitter death.'