Thereon two woven webs, all stiff with purple dye and gold, Æneas bringeth forth, which erst with her own fingers fair Sidonian Dido wrought for him, and, glad the toil to bear, Had shot across the web thereof with thin and golden thread: In one of these the youth he wrapped, last honour of the dead, And, woeful, covered up the locks that fire should burn away. And furthermore a many things, Laurentum's battle-prey, He pileth up, and bids the spoil in long array be borne: Horses and battle-gear he adds, late from the foemen torn: 80 And men's hands had he bound aback whom shortly should he send Unto the ghosts; whose blood should slake the fire that ate his friend. And trunks of trees with battle-gear from foemen's bodies won He bids the leaders carry forth, with foemen's names thereon. Hapless Acoetes, spent with eld, is brought forth; whiles he wears His bosom with the beat of fists, and whiles his face he tears: Then forth he falls, and grovelling there upon the ground doth lie. They bring the war-wain now, o'errained with blood of Rutuli: Æthon his war-horse comes behind, stripped of his gear of state, Mourning he goes, and wets his face with plenteous tear-drops great. 90 Some bring the dead man's spear and helm: victorious Turnus' hand Hath all the rest: then follow on the woeful Teucrian band, All Tuscans, and Arcadian folk with weapons turned about. But now, when all the following folk were got a long way out, Æneas stood and groaned aloud, and spake these words withal: "Us otherwhere to other tears the same dread war-fates call; Undying greetings go with thee! farewell for evermore, O mightiest Pallas!" Ending so, to those high walls of war He turned about, and went his ways unto his war-folks' home. But from the Latin city now were fair speech-masters come, 100 Half-hidden by the olive-boughs, and praying for a grace, That he would give them back their men who lay about the place O'erthrown by steel, and let them lie in earth-mound duly dight; Since war was not for men o'ercome, or those that lack the light-- That he would spare his whileome hosts, the kinsmen of his bride.