Chor. What witness sure hast thou of these events?
Clytæm. Full clear (how else?) unless the God deceive.[[292]]
Chor. Reliest thou on dreams or visions seen?
Clytæm. I place no trust in mind weighed down with sleep.[[293]]
Chor. Hath then some wingless omen charmed thy soul?[[294]]
Clytæm. My mind thou scorn'st, as though 'twere but a girl's.
Chor. What time has passed since they the city sacked?
Clytæm. This very night, the mother of this morn.
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Chor. What herald could arrive with speed like this?