iamque aberant terris quantum Gortynia currunt spicula, caeruleo gravidam cum Iuppiter imbri ipsa super nubem ratis armamenta Pelasgae sistit agens; inde horror aquis, et raptus ab omni sole dies miscet tenebras, quis protinus unda concolor; obnixi lacerant cava nubila venti diripiuntque fretum, nigris redit umida tellus verticibus, totumque Notis certantibus aequor pendet et arquato iam iam prope sidera dorso frangitur; incertae nec iam prior impetus alno, sed labat exstantem rostris modo gurgite in imo, nunc caelo Tritona ferens.
And now they were away from land the length of a Gortynian arrows flight when Jupiter sends a cloud pregnant with dark rain and sets it just over the rigging of the Pelasgian ship. The waters roughen and the day, snatched from all its sunshine, mingles darkness matched in a trice by the colour of the waves. Thrusting winds lash hollow clouds and tear the deep apart, wet earth comes back to view in the black whirlpools. As the winds battle, the whole sea hangs poised; now its arching back nears the stars and it breaks. The ship falters, her onward drive slackens and she falls, carrying the Triton projecting from her prow now at the bottom of the flood, now in the heavens.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book5.json