prosilit audaci Martis percussus amore, arma, tubas audire calens et pulvere belli flaventem sordere comam captoque referri hostis equo: taedet nemorum, titulumque nocentem sanguinis humani pudor est nescire sagittas.
Forth he dashes, smitten by Mars audacious ardour, burning to hear arms and trumpets and soil his yellow hair with the dust of battle and return on a foemans captured horse. He is weary of the woods and ashamed that his arrows know not the guilty glory of human blood.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book4.json