The Aeneid - Closing

He sank his blade in fury in Turnus' chest.

Then all the body slackened in death's chill,

And with a groan for that indignity

His spirit fled into the gloom below.

The Aeneid - pg. 398

"Sister of Jupiter

Indeed you are, and Saturn's other child,

To feel such anger, stormy in your breast.

But come, no need; put down this fit of rage.

I grant your wish. I yield, I am won over

Willingly. Ausonian folk will keep

Their fathers' language and their way of life,

And, that being so, their name. The Teucrians

Will mingly and be submerged, incorporated.

Rituals and observances of theirs

I'll add, but make them Latin, one in speech.

The race to come, mixed with Ausonian blood,

Will outdo men and gods in its devotion,

You shall see -- and no nation on earth

Will honor and worship you so faithfully."

The Aeneid - pg. 380

"Here's good land, Trojan,

The western land you thought to take in war.

Lie there and measure it. See what is gained

By daring to face up to me in arms.

See how far you go in founding cities."