Ovid, Fasti

LCL 253: 294-295

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Faustulus infelix et passis Acca capillis spargebant lacrimis ossa perusta suis. 455inde domum redeunt sub prima crepuscula maesti, utque erat, in duro procubuere toro. umbra cruenta Remi visa est adsistere lecto atque haec exiguo murmure verba loqui: “en ego dimidium vestri parsque altera voti, 460cernite, sim qualis, qui modo qualis eram! qui modo, si volucres habuissem regna iubentes, in populo potui maximus esse meo, nunc sum elapsa rogi flammis et inanis imago: haec est ex illo forma relicta Remo! 465heu ubi Mars pater est? si vos modo vera locuti, uberaque expositis ille ferina dedit. quem lupa servavit, manus hunc temeraria civis perdidit. o quanto mitior illa fuit! saeve Celer, crudelem animam per volnera reddas, 470utque ego, sub terras sanguinulentus eas. noluit hoc frater, pietas aequalis in illo est: quod potuit, lacrimas in mea fata dedit. hunc vos per lacrimas, per vestra alimenta rogate, ut celebrem nostro signet honore diem.” 475mandantem amplecti cupiunt et bracchia tendunt: lubrica prensantes effugit umbra manus. ut secum fugiens somnos abduxit imago, ad regem voces fratris uterque ferunt. Romulus obsequitur, lucemque Remuria dicit 480illam, qua positis iusta feruntur avis. aspera mutata est in lenem tempore longo littera, quae toto nomine prima fuit;

Fasti, V

Faustulus and Acca,a with streaming hair, sprinkled the burnt bones with their tears. Then at twilight’s fall they sadly took the homeward way, and flung themselves on their hard couch, just as it was. The gory ghost of Remus seemed to stand at the bedside and to speak these words in a faint murmur: “Look on me, who shared the half, the full half of your tender care, behold what I am come to, and what I was of late! A little while ago I might have been the foremost of my people, if but the birds had assigned the throne to me. Now I am an empty wraith, escaped from the flames of the pyre; that is all that remains of the once great Remus. Alas, where is my father Mars? If only you spoke the truth, and it was he who sent the wild beast’s dugs to suckle the abandoned babes. A citizen’s rash hand undid him whom the she-wolf saved; O how far more merciful was she! Ferocious Celer,b mayest thou yield up thy cruel soul through wounds, and pass like me all bloody underneath the earth! My brother willed not this: his love’s a match for mine: he let fall upon my death ’twas all he could—his tears. Pray him by your tears, by your fosterage, that he would celebrate a day by signal honour done to me.” As the ghost gave this charge, they yearned to embrace him and stretched forth their arms; the slippery shade escaped the clasping hands. When the vision fled and carried slumber with it, the pair reported to the king his brothers words. Romulus complied, and gave the name of Remuria to the day on which due worship is paid to buried ancestors. In the course of ages the rough letter, which stood at the beginning of the name, was changed into the smooth; and soon

DOI: 10.4159/DLCL.ovid-fasti.1931