Nec non ancipitis pugnat sententia vulgi discordesque serit motus: hi reddere fratrem (nec mussant, sed voce palam claroque tumultu), reddere regna iubent; periit reverentia regis sollicitis: veniat pactumque hic computet annum, Cadmeosque lares exsul patriasque salutet infelix tenebras; cur autem ego sanguine fraudes et periura luam regalis crimina noxae? inde alii: sera ista fides, iam vincere mavult.
The crowd is divided in a strife of sentiment, sowing motions of discord. Some call for restoring the brother (nor mutter, but in open utterance and loud tumult), restoring the kingship. In their fear they have lost all reverence for the monarch: Let him come back, let him calculate here the year agreed. Let the unhappy exile salute his Cadmean home and his fathers darkness. Why should I atone with my blood for fraud and perjurious crime of royal guilt? Then others: Tis too late for such good faith; he  now prefers victory.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book10.json