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Such boast as this -- brimful of the veracious --
Is, for a high-born dame, not bad to send forth!
Ay, she spoke thus to thee -- that hast a knowledge
From clear interpreters -- a speech most seemly.
But speak thou, herald! Meneleos I ask of:
If he, returning, back in safety also
Will come with you -- this land's beloved chieftain?
There's no way I might say things false and pleasant
For friends to reap the fruits of through a long time.
How then if, speaking good, things true thou chance on?
For not well-hidden things become they, sundered.
The man has vanished from the Achaic army,
He and his ship too. I announce no falsehood.
Whether forth-putting openly from Ilion,
Or did storm -- wide woe -- snatch him from the army?
Like topping bowman, thou hast touched the target,
And a long sorrow hast succinctly spoken.
Whether, then, of him, as a live or dead man
Was the report by other sailors bruited?
Nobody knows so as to tell out clearly
Excepting Helios who sustains earth's nature.
How say'st thou then, did storm the naval army
Attack and end, by the celestials' anger?
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