utque procul visis paulum dubitavit in armis, agnovitque (nefas!) iaculis et voce superba tecta incessentem, magno prius omnia planctu implet et ex muris ceu descensura profatur: comprime tela manu paulumque hanc respice turrem, frater, et horrentes refer in mea lumina cristas! agnoscisne hostes? sic annua pacta fidemque poscimus? hi questus, haec est bona causa modesti exsulis?
Awhile she hesitated at sight of the arms afar and recognized (horror!) him as he assaulted the city with javelins and proud voice. First she fills all around with loud lament and speaks as though about to throw herself from the wall: Brother, hold your weapons and look for a moment at this tower. Turn your bristling crest to my eyes. Do you see enemies? Is this how we claim yearly pact and good faith? Are these the complaints, this the good cause of a modest exile?
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book11.json