iamque adverso venere favore comminus, et placido prior haec Tirynthius ore: fida soror, quaenam hunc belli caligine nobis congressum fortuna tulit? num regia Iuno hoc molita nefas? citius me fulmina contra (infandum!) ruere et magno bellare parenti aspiciat.
And now they come face to face, each favouring adversaries, and first the Tirynthian thus gently speaks: My loyal sister, what fortune has brought us this meeting in the murk of war? Has queen Juno contrived this evil? Sooner would she see me rush against the thunderbolts (unspeakable!) and make war upon our great parent.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book8.json