The contrary to utter: How could one
By open show of enmity to foes
Who seemed as friends, fence in the snares of death
Too high to be o'erleapt? But as for me,
Not without forethought for this long time past,
This conflict comes to me from triumph old[[382]]
Of his, though slowly wrought. I stand where I
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Did smite him down, with all my task well done.
So did I it, (the deed deny I not,)