Ira, ubi truncati mucronis fragmina vidit et procul in partes ensem crepuisse minutas, iam capulum retinente manu sine pondere ferri, mentis inops ebur infelix decorisque pudendi perfida signa abicit monumentaque tristia longe spernit, et ad proprium succenditur effera letum.
Seeing her blade shivered in pieces and how the sword has scattered away in rattling fragments while her hand still grasps the hilt after it has lost its weight of steel, Wrath is beside herself and casts away the luckless ivory that has been false to her, the token of honour turned to shame.
final_alignments\Prudentius_Psychomachia.json