quam pudet, o Mavors et virtus conscia, talem contra stare aciem ferroque lacessere nugas, et cum virgineis dextram conferre choreis, Iustitia est ubi semper egens et pauper Honestas, arida Sobrietas, albo Ieiunia vultu, sanguine vix tenui Pudor interfusus, aperta Simplicitas et ad omne patens sine tegmine vulnus, et prostrata in humum nec libera iudice sese Mens Humilis, quam degenerem trepidatioprodit! faxo ego, sub pedibus stipularum more teratur invalida ista manus; neque enim perfringereduris dignamur gladiis, algenti et sanguine ferrum inbuere fragilique viros foedare triumpho.
What shame it is, O god of war, O valorous heart of mine, to face such an army as this, to take the sword against such trumpery, and engage with troupes of girls, among them beggarly Righteousness and poverty-stricken Honesty, dried-up Soberness and white-faced Fasting, Purity with scarce a tinge of blood to colour her cheeks, unarmed Simplicity exposed with no protection to every wound, and Lowliness humbling herself to the ground, with no freedom even in her own eyes, and whose agitation betrays her ignoble spirit! I shall have this feeble band trodden down like stubble; for we disdain to shatter them with our stark swords, to dip our blades in their frigid blood, and disgrace our warriors with a triumph that needs no manhood.
final_alignments\Prudentius_Psychomachia.json