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But now I find  the impetuous god of war has come to battle before the walls, and is kindling a murderous blaze—may he not succeed!—for this city. For a friend's pain is shared, and if this land with its seven towers  suffers any mischance, Phoenicia's realm will share it. Ah me! our blood is one; we are all children of Io, the horned maid; these sorrows I claim as mine.