en qui nostra suis in praedam cedere dextris sceptra volunt! en qui nostras sulcare novales arvaque capta manu popularier hospite aratro contendunt, duros et pellere Marte colonos! nempe, o ridiculum vulgus, natalibus horis totum hominem et calidos a matre amplectimurartus, vimque potestatum per membra recentis alumni spargimus, et rudibus dominamur in ossibusomnes.
Behold the warriors who will have our sceptres become the spoil of their right hands, who seek to drive the furrow over lands that we have broken up, to ravage with a strangers plough the soil our hands have taken, and with war expel its hardy cultivators! Absurd mob! Why, in the hour of birth we embrace the whole man, his frame still warm from his mother, and extend the strength of our power through the body of the new-born child, we are lords and masters all within the tender bones.
final_alignments\Prudentius_Psychomachia.json