sed et ipse recedere caelum ingentesque animos extremo frigore labi sensit, et innixus terrae, miserescite, clamat, Inachidae: non ossa precor referantur ut Argos Aetolumue larem; nec enim mihi cura supremi funeris: odi artus fragilemque hunc corporis usum, desertorem animi.
But he himself perceived that the sky was receding and his mighty heart failing in final chill. Leaning on the ground, he cries: Have pity, sons of Inachus. I ask not that my bones be taken back to Argos or my Aetolian home. I care not for funeral rites. I hate my limbs and the frail use of this body, deserter of my soul.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book8.json