funus per artus. levia memoravi nimis; haec virgo feci. gravior exsurgat dolor: 50maiora iam me scelera post partus decent. accingere ira, teque in exitium para furore toto. paria narrentur tua repudia thalamis. quo virum linquis modo? hoc quo secuta es. rumpe iam segnes moras: 55quae scelere parta est, scelere linquenda est domus.
Ad regum thalamos numine prospero qui caelum superi quique regunt fretum adsint cum populis rite faventibus. Primum sceptriferis colla Tonantibus 60taurus celsa ferat tergore candido; Lucinam nivei femina corporis intemptata iugo placet; et asperi Martis sanguineas quae cohibet manus, quae dat belligeris foedera gentibus 65et cornu retinet divite copiam, donetur tenera mitior hostia. Et tu, qui facibus legitimis ades, noctem discutiens auspice dextera, huc incede gradu marcidus ebrio, 70praecingens roseo tempora vinculo. Et tu, quae, gemini praevia temporis, tarde, stella, redis semper amantibus: te matres, avide te cupiunt nurus quamprimum radios spargere lucidos.
to limb. But these things I talk of are too slight; I did all this as a girl. My bitterness must grow more weighty: greater crimes become me now, after giving birth. Armor yourself with anger, prepare to wreak destruction with full rage. Let the tale they tell of your divorce match that of your marriage. How should you leave your husband? Just as you followed him. Now break off sluggish delays; the home begotten in crime must be left in crime.
At this royal wedding in divine support may the gods who rule the sky and sea be present, with the people in ritual silence. First to the sceptered Thunderers a bull white-backed must offer his high-raised neck. An unyoked female of snow-white body must appease Lucina; and she who restrains the bloodstained hands of savage Mars, who grants treaties to warring nations and stores abundance in her rich horn,6 as gentler, should be given a tender victim. And you who sanction lawful torches, dispelling darkness with an auguring hand,7 approach with your languid, drunken steps, wreathing your brows in a rose garland. And you, star that herald twilight,8 and ever return too slowly for lovers: matrons want you, young women ardently want you to scatter your bright beams with all speed.