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Illa, Quis et me, inquit, miseram, et te perdidit, Orpheu?, Quis tantus furor? En iterum crudelia retro Fata vocant, conditque natantia lumina somnus. Iamque vale: feror ingenti circumdata nocte Invalidasque tibi tendens, heu non tua, palmas!
Then thus the bride: What fury seized on thee,
Unhappy man! to lose thyself and me?
Dragged back again by cruel destinies,
An iron slumber shuts my swimming eyes.
And now farewell! Involv'd in shades of night,
For ever I am ravish'd from thy sight.
In vain I reach my feeble hands to join
In sweet embraces—ah! no longer thine!
— Book IV, lines 494–498 (translated by John Dryden).
Tags: circumdata, conditque, crudelia, Fata, feror, furor, heu, Iamque
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