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The son of Atreus, encircling Pergamus, the Phrygians' town, with murderous war  around her stone-built towers, dragging Paris's head backward to cut his throat and sacking the city from roof to base, shall be a cause of many tears to maids and  Priam's wife. And Helen, the daughter of Zeus, shall weep in bitter grief because she left her lord. Never may there appear to me or to my children's children  the prospect which the wealthy Lydian ladies and Phrygia's brides will have as at their looms they converse:  “Tell me, who will pluck me away from my ruined country, tightening his grasp on lovely tresses till the tears flow? it is all through you, the offspring of the long-necked swan; if indeed it is a true report  that Leda bore you to a winged bird, when Zeus transformed himself there, or whether, in the tablets of the poets, fables have carried these tales to men's ears  idly, out of season.”
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