tum me, confectum curis somnoque gravatum, infelix habuit thalamus, pressitque iacentem dulcis et alta quies placidaeque simillima morti.
Care-worn and sunk in slumber, I was then inside our ill-starred bridal chamber, sleep weighing upon me as I lay'sweet and deep, very image of deaths peace.
final_alignments\Virgil_Aeneid_Book6.json