spirantisque animos et vocem misit: at illi pollicibus fragiles increpuere manus: perfide nec cuiquam melior sperande puellae, in te iam vires somnus habere potest? iamne tibi exciderunt vigilacis furta Suburae et mea nocturnis trita fenestra dolis? per quam demisso quotiens tibi fune pependi, alterna veniens in tua colla manu! saepe Venus trivio commissa, et pectore mixto fecerunt tepidas proelia nostra vias.
But it was a living voice and spirit that emerged as her brittle fingers cracked with a snap of her thumb: Treacherous one, from whom no girl can expect better, can sleep so soon have power over you? Have you so soon forgotten our escapades in the sleepless Subura and my window-sill worn away by nightly guile? How oft by that window did I let down a rope to you and dangle in mid-air, descending hand over hand to embrace you? Oft at the crossways we made love, and breast on breast warmed with our passion the road beneath.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book4.json