And now Rome, loosing both her steeds together, flies swifter than the fleet east wind; the Zephyrs shrill and the clouds, cleft with the track of the wheels, glow in separate furrows. What matchless speed! One pinion’s stroke and they reach their
quem poscunt, tetigere locum: qua fine sub imo
angustant aditum curvis anfractibus Alpes 105
claustraque congestis scopulis durissima tendunt,
non alia reseranda manu, sed pervia tantum
Augusto geminisque fidem mentita tyrannis.
semirutae turres avulsaque moenia fumant;
crescunt in cumulum strages vallemque profundam
aequavere iugis; stagnant inmersa cruore 111