tum vero, ut victor et alti iam compos voti, ferrata calce cruentat cornipedem et largas Poenus quatit asper habenas: quo fugis, oblitus nostris te cedere regnis? nulla tibi Libyca latebra est, o Scipio, terra.
Then indeed Hannibal, sure of victory and of attaining his high ambition, spurred his horse till the blood came, and roughly shook the reins that lay loose on its neck. Whither do you flee, Scipio? You forget that you are retreating from our realm. For you there is no hiding-place on the soil of Libya.
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book17.json