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Translated by E. Morshead.
96 pages - You are on Page 33 Leader: Hail, herald of the Greeks, new-come from war. Herald: All hail! not death itself can fright me now. Leader: Was thine heart wrung with longing for thy land? Herald: So that this joy doth brim mine eyes with tears. Leader: On you too then this sweet distress did fall- Herald: How say'st thou? make me master of thy word. Leader: You longed for us who pined for you again. Herald: Craved the land us who craved it, love for love? Leader: Yea, till my brooding heart moaned out with pain. Herald: Whence thy despair, that mars the army's joy? Leader: Sole cure of wrong is silence, saith the saw. Herald: Thy kings afar, couldst thou fear other men? Leader: Death had been sweet, as thou didst say but now. Previous Page / First / Next Page of Agamemnon
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