quas quaereret artes si fratrem, Fortuna, dares? o caeca nocentum consilia! o semper timidum scelus! exit in unum plebs ferro iurata caput: ceu castra subire apparet aut celsum crebri arietis ictibus urbis inclinare latus, densi sic agmine facto quinquaginta altis funduntur in ordine portis.
What arts would he devise if Fortune gave him his brother? Blind counsels of the wicked! Crime cowardly ever! A populace goes forth sworn in arms against a single life. Twas as if they were about to attack a camp or topple a citys high flank with frequent blows of battering ram. So in close array fifty pour out in order from the lofty gates.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book2.json