Aeneid lines 6.477-534 (class translation)

Thence the given journey is undertaken. And now they hold the outermost places which, remote, those distinguished in war inhabit. Here Tydeus ran to that one, here Parthenopaeus, renowned in arms, and the image of pale Adrastis, here the Dardanians, crying much in the world above and having falling in war, whom that one groaned over observing them all in a long line, both Glaucus and Medon and Thersilochus, the three sons of Antenor, and Polyboetes, sacred to Ceres, and Idaus, holding still the chariot, still his weapons. The spirits thronging on the right and left stand around, nor is it enough to have seen them once: it helps continuously to delay and join step and learn the causes of their coming. But the leaders of the Greeks and the troops of Agamemnon tremble with great fear as they see the man and his weapons gleaming thought the shades; part turn their backs as once they sought their ships, part raise a cry, but only a little one: the begun noise mocks their gaping.

And here he saw Deiphobus, the son of Priam, mutilated in his entire body, cut cruelly on his face, lips and both hands, and his temples disfigured with his ears having been ripped off, and his nostrils mangled by a shameful wound. Hardly indeed did he recognize him shivering and covering his severe punishments, and he first addressed him, with his familiar tones: “Deiphobus, mighty in arms, race of the lofty blood of Teucer, who wanted to inflict such terrible punishments, to whom was such power permitted over you? Rumor on the last night bore to me that you, tried from vast slaughter, fell over a Greek heap of confused slaughter. Then I built a empty tomb on the Rhoeteum shore and with a great shout I called the shades three times. The name and weapons guard the place; I was not able to see and place you in paternal earth as I was leaving.

To which the son of Priam: “Nothing was left (undone) by you, friend; you paid everything of the funeral for Deiphobus and his shades. But my fates and the deadly wickedness of the Spartan woman sunk me in these evils; this woman left these monuments. Indeed you know how we led false joys on the last night: and it is needed to remember too much. When the deadly horse came over lofty Pergama with a leap and heavy in the womb brought an armed infantry, that woman, feigning the rites, lead the Trojan women calling “Euhan” in chorus; she herself in the middle held the huge flame and called the Greeks from the highest citadel. Then the ill-starred bedchamber held me weary from cares and heavy with sleep, and sweet, deep—and most like calm death—quiet pressed on (me) at rest. Meanwhile my remarkable wife removed all weapons from the house and withdrew my faithful sword from under my head; she called Menelaus within my home and opened the thresholds, hoping of course that this would be a great gift to her lover and that the story of her old evils could thus be blotted out. Why do I delay? They burst into the bedchamber, the son of Aeolus added with as a companion as instigator of crimes. Gods, renew such on the Greeks, if with pious mouth I beg recompense. But what reason brought you living, come now, speak in turn. Did you come on the sea driven by wanderings or by advice of the gods? Or what fortune harasses you that you approach the sad homes without the sun, confused places?”