qualem te funere summo atque rogum iuxta, Melior placidissime quondam, extimui! tune ille hilaris comisque videri? unde animi saevaeque manus et barbarus horror, dum modo fusus humi lucem aversaris iniquam, nunc torvus pariter vestes et pectora rumpis dilectosque premis visus et frigida labris oscula? erant illic genitor materque iacentis maesta, sed attoniti te spectavere parentes.
Melior, who was once the most even-tempered man, I was afraid of you at the final ceremony near the pyre! Is this the cheerful and friendly face that I know? Where did that passion, those cruel hands, and that strange shaking come from? Now, you lie on the ground avoiding the cruel daylight, while fiercely tearing your clothes and pressing your mouth against the beloved eyes and cold lips. The father and grieving mother of the deceased were both present, but they were left speechless when they looked at you.