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Dear son of Oedipus, I grew afraid when I heard the clatter of the crashing chariots, [205] when the hubs screamed as they whirled around the wheel, and when I heard the sound of the steering gear, fire-forged bits, in the horses' mouths.

Well, then, has a helmsman ever found a way to safety by fleeing from stern to prow, [210] when his ship is foundering in high seas?

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