pro di, quis terminus, inquit, ante urbes standi Graias, oblite tuorum factorum miles? quis erit modus? Alpibus astat nimirum maior moles, et scandere caelum pulsantes iubeo scopulos; quamquam altera detur si similis tellus, aliaeque repente sub astra exsurgant rupes, non ibis et arduus arma me ducente feres? tene heu Cumanus hiantem agger adhuc murusque tenet Gracchusque, moveri non ausus portis? parvo in discrimine cerno, an vobis gentes, quaecumque labore parastis, casu gesta putent.
Great Heavens! he cried; soldiers, forgetful of your past, is your onward march to be stopped for ever by Greek cities? Will you nowhere draw the line? A mightier obstacle than the Alps, forsooth, blocks your way, and I bid you climb peaks that touch the sky! And yet, if a land like that were before us now and other cliffs were suddenly to rise as high as heaven, would you not go forward, if I led you, and carry your arms up the heights? Are you the men to stand and gape, barred by the ramparts and walls of Cumae, and by Gracchus who dares not stir outside the gates? I see it all but certain, that the world will impute to chance every result of your exertions.
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book12.json