Iam magis atque magis vigiles dolor angere sensus, et gemitus clari, et paulatim invisa Polyxo, iam meminisse nefas, iam ponere manibus aras concessum et multum cineres iurare sepultos.
Now more and more grief torments their wakeful senses, lamentations are loud, and little by little they come to hate Polyxo. Now it is permitted to remember the atrocity, now to build altars to the spirits and often swear by the buried dust.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book5.json