Tune, inquit largitor opum, qui mente profusa tecta Dicaearchi pariter iuvenisque replesti Parthenopen? nostro qui tot fastigia monti, tot virides lucos, tot saxa imitantia vultus aeraque, tot scripto viventes lumine ceras fixisti? quid enim ista domus, quid terra, priusquam te gauderet erum? longo tu tramite nudos texisti scopulos, fueratque ubi semita tantum nunc tibi distinctis stat porticus alta columnis ne sorderet iter.
Are you, he says, the lavish donor that in your youth filled alike the dwellings of Dicaearchus and Parthenope with your prodigality, who on our mountain set so many towers, so many green groves, so many images in stone and bronze, so many lifelike waxen forms inscribed with color? For what was that house, that land before it rejoiced in you as its master? You covered the bare cliffs with a lengthy road, and where there had been only a track now stands your lofty arcade with its separate pillars, to give the route some elegance.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book3.json