iamne vacat saevire, Creon? modo perfida regna fortunaeque locum nostrae, miserande, subisti, et tibi iam fas est regum calcare ruinas? iam tumulis victos, socios iam moenibus arces? macte, potes digne Thebarum sceptra tueri: haec tua prima dies.
Have you time for cruelty already, Creon? Only just now have you risen to perfidious royalty, my fortunes place, you pitiable being, and already tis your right to trample on the ruin of kings? Already do you bar the vanquished from their tombs, your allies  from the walls? Well done! You can worthily maintain the sceptre of Thebes; such is your first day.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book11.json