quis metus, o numquam dolituri, o semper inertes Tyrrheni, quae tanta animis ignavia venit? femina palantis agit atque haec agmina vertit? quo ferrum quidve haec gerimus tela inrita dextris? at non in Venerem segnes nocturnaque bella, mr   aut ubi curva choros indixit tibia Bacchi.
You Tuscans, who will never be stung by shame, sluggards always, what fear, what utter cowardice has fallen on your hearts? Does a woman drive you in disorder and rout your ranks? For what reason do we bear swords, why these idle weapons, in our hands? But you are not laggard for love and nightly frays, or when the curved flute proclaims the Bacchic dance.
final_alignments\Virgil_Aeneid_Book11.json