ille velut pecoris lupus expugnator opimi, pectora tabenti sanie gravis hirtaque saetis ora cruentata deformis hiantia lana, decedit stabulis huc illuc turbida versans lumina, si duri comperta clade sequantur pastores, magnique fugit non inscius ausi.
He is like a wolf that has stormed a fat sheepfold; his chest is heavy with rotting gore, the gaping bristly mouth ugly with bloodstained wool; leaving the pens, he turns uneasy glances this way and that to see whether the hardy shepherds have discovered the disaster and follow; conscious of great audacity, he flees.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book4.json