quis tunc tibi, saeve, quis fuit ille dies, vacua cum solus in aula respiceres ius omne tuum cunctosque minores, et nusquam par stare caput! iam murmura serpunt plebis Echioniae, tacitumque a principe vulgus dissidet, et, qui mos populis, venturus amatur.
What a day that was for you, cruel monarch, when alone in empty palace you saw authority all yours, every man your inferior, nowhere a head standing as high! Already grumbling creeps among the Echionian commons and the crowd is at silent odds with the prince. As is the way of a populace, the man of the future is the favourite.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book1.json