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I have heard a rumor, but never seen with my eyes, how the man who once approached the bed of Zeus was bound upon a  swift wheel by the almighty son of Cronus. But of no other mortal do I know, either by hearsay or by sight, that has encountered a doom so repugnant as this of Philoctetes. For though he had wronged no one by force or thievery,  but conducted himself fairly towards the fair, he was left to perish so undeservedly. I truly marvel how—how in the world—as he listened in solitude to the breakers rushing around him,  he kept his hold upon a life so full of grief.
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