139And now Rumour, flying, harbinger of so great a grief, fills Evander and Evander's house and city, Rumour which only lately was announcing Pallas victorious in Latium. 142The Arcadians rushed to the gates and, by ancient custom, snatched up funeral torches; 143the road gleams with a long line of flames and cuts a path far and wide through the fields. 145From the other side the throng of Phrygians comes and joins the wailing columns. 146When the mothers saw them drawing near the houses, they set the grieving city ablaze with their cries. 148But no force can hold Evander back; he comes into their midst. 149The bier set down, he fell upon Pallas and clings to him, weeping and groaning, and at last, barely, a way was opened for his voice through grief.
152'These were not the promises you had given your father, Pallas, that you would be willing to trust yourself more cautiously to cruel Mars; 154I was not unaware how much the fresh glory of arms and the sweet honour of a first fight could do. 156Wretched first fruits of a young man, harsh schooling in a war close at hand, and my vows and prayers heard by none of the gods! 158And you, most holy wife, happy in your death and not kept alive for this grief! 160I, on the other hand, by living have outlasted my fate, to remain behind as a surviving father. 161Would that the Rutulians had overwhelmed me with their spears as I followed the allied arms of the Trojans!
162I myself would have given my life, and this procession would be bringing me home, not Pallas. Nor would I blame you, Teucrians, nor the treaties, nor the right hands we joined in friendship: that lot was owed to my old age. 166But if an untimely death awaited my son, it will be a comfort that he fell after killing thousands of Volscians, leading the Teucrians into Latium. 169Nay, I would honour you, Pallas, with no other funeral than dutiful Aeneas gives you. They bring great trophies of those whom your right hand gives to Death: you too would now be standing, a huge trunk in arms, Turnus, if he had been your equal in age and had the same strength from his years.
175But why, unhappy man, do I keep the Teucrians from their arms? 176Go, and remember to carry this message to your king: that I linger on in a hateful life now Pallas is slain, the reason is your right hand, which you see owes Turnus to son and father. 179This is the only field left open for your merits and your fortune. 180I do not seek joys for my life, nor would it be right, but to carry the news to my son among the shades below.'