interdum tamen erumpunt sub casside fusae per tacitum lacrimae: quidnam Fortuna minetur, quidve parent superi? pubes dispersa per altas stat turres atque huc ventum sub corde volutat, ut iam Roma satis credat defendere muros.
Yet sometimes silent tears burst forth from beneath a helmet. What, they asked, does Fortune threaten us with, and what is the purpose of the gods? The young men were distributed for service among the high towers, and each said to himself: It has come to this, that Rome now is content if she can but defend her walls!
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book12.json