tum vero infelix, mentem furiata dolore, exclamat, fessas tendens ad litora palmas: en, qui se iactat Libyae populisque nefandis atque hosti servare fidem! data foedera nobis ac promissa fides thalamis ubi, perfide, nunc est? ultima vox duras haec tunc penetravit ad aures; cetera percussi vetuerunt noscere remi.
Then indeed the unhappy wife, frantic with grief, stretched forth her weary hands over the bank with a loud cry: See him! He boasts of keeping faith with the enemy and the abominable people of Libya. But where is now the compact made with me, and the troth you plighted at our marriage, unfaithful husband?  These were the last words that reached the inflexible ear of Regulus; the rest was drowned by the plashing of the oars.
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book6.json