sic fatus senior, telumque imbelle sine ictu coniecit, rauco quod protinus aere repulsum et summo clipei nequiquam umbone pependit.
So spoke the old man and hurled his weak and harmless spear, which straight recoiled from the clanging brass and hung idly from the top of the shields boss.
final_alignments\Virgil_Aeneid_Book2.json