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About your body now I swathe this Phrygian robe of honor, which should have clad you on your marriage-day,  wedded to the noblest of Asia's daughters. You too, dear shield of Hector, victorious parent of countless triumphs past, accept your crown, for though you share the dead child's tomb, death cannot touch you; for you merit honors far beyond those arms 1  that the crafty villain Odysseus won.
1 the arms of Achilles, which were set up as a prize, and won by Odysseus from Aias.
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