Crixus, ut in tenui spes exiguumque salutis, armat contemptu mentem necis; horrida barba sanguinea rutilat spuma, rictusque furentis albet, et affuso squalent a pulvere crines.
With slender hopes and little chance of safety, Crixus steeled his heart with contempt of death: his bristling beard was red with a bloody foam, foam flew from his open mouth in his fury, and his hair was rough with a coating of dust.
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book4.json