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 Nature ordains death as the destiny of all mortals. Electra
What, a death like the one which that ill-fated one died beneath a race of swift hooves, entangled in the cutting, dragging reins? Chorus
The mutilation is beyond thought! Electra
 Yes, so it is, when in foreign soil, without being tended by my hands— Chorus
ah, no! Electra
—he has been buried not receiving from me either burial  or lamentation.
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