saevit acerba fremens tardumque a moenibus agmen increpitat: numquamne dolor virtusque subibit nil ausas sine rege manus? at barbara buxus si vocet et motis ululantia Dindyma sacris, tunc ensis placet atque furor, modo tela sacerdos porrigat et iussa sanguis exuberet ulna.
Shouting bitter taunts Cyzicus rages, and girds at his host that is slow to come from the city: What, shall resentment and valour never inspire the hands that dare naught without your king? But if the savage pipe and all Dindymus yelling as the holy emblems proceed called you, then sword and frenzy would be your pleasure, did but the priest give the weapons to your hands and the blood stream from your arms at his command.
final_alignments\Valerius_Flaccus_Argonautica_Book3.json