Dixerat; excipiunt cunctae tenduntque precantes cum clamore manus; rubuit Neptunius heros permotus lacrimis; iusta mox concitus ira exclamat: quaenam ista novos induxit Erinys regnorum mores? non haec ego pectora liqui Graiorum abscedens, Scythiam Pontumque nivalem cum peterem; novus unde furor? victumne putasti Thesea, dire Creon? adsum, nec sanguine fessum crede; sitit meritos etiamnum haec hasta cruores.
She spoke; all echo her words and stretch out their hands in clamorous entreaty. The hero son of Neptune  flushed, much moved by their tears. Then stirred by righteous wrath he exclaims: What Fury is this that brings strange manners of kings? Not such were the Greek hearts I left behind when I sought Scythia and snowy Pontus. Whence this new frenzy? Fell Creon, did you think Theseus vanquished? I am here, and do not believe me blood-weary. This spear still thirsts for guilty gore.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book12.json