Clytæm. Ha! now on me thou lay'st the exile's doom,

My subjects' hate, and people's loud-voiced curse,

Though ne'er did'st thou oppose my husband there,

Who, with no more regard than had been due

To a brute's death, although he called his own

Full many a fleecy sheep in pastures bred,

Yet sacrificed his child, the dear-loved fruit

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Of all my travail-pangs, to be a charm

Against the winds of Thrakia. Shouldst thou not