excipit inde iam Marus atque, inhibens convellere vulnera questu: quid, cum praeteritis invisa penatibus, inquit, hospitia et sedes Poenorum intravit acerbas? affixi clipei currusque et spicula nota aedibus in parvis, magni monumenta triumphi, pulsabant oculos, coniuxque in limine primo clamabat: quo fers gressus? non Punicus hic est, Regule, quem fugias, carcer.
But here Marus took up the tale and prevented him from making his wounds worse by complaining: And what, he cried, when he passed by his own house and sought the hateful hospitality of the Carthaginians and their unfriendly lodging? Shields and chariots and javelins were fastened at his doors'famous trophies of a great victory adorning a humble dwelling; these struck on his sight, and his wife was crying out from the threshold: Whither are you going, Regulus? This is no Carthaginian prison, for you to shun.
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book6.json