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 Tell them the affairs of their house, how it is now diseased; how among his children, double-sided strife has overwhelmed their loving manner.  Electra, betrayed, braves the storm alone. In misery she bewails her father's fate without pause, like the all-grieving nightingale. She cares not at all about death, but is ready for that eternal blindness,  could she but subdue the double Erinys of her house. Who could grow to be so noble a daughter of so noble a father?
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