tune illum, quem non acies, non moenia et urbes ferre valent, cum frons propior lumenque corusco igne micat, tune illa viri, quae vertice fundit, fulmina pertuleris, si viso intorserit ense diram, qua vertit per campos agmina, vocem? fallit te, mensas inter quod credis inermem.
Will you be able to withstand him whom neither armies nor walled cities can withstand, when his frown comes close and the fire flashes from his eyes? Will you endure the thunderbolts launched from that head, if the sight of your sword calls forth the dread voice that routs whole armies on the field? If you think that he sits unarmed at table, you are wrong.
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book11.json