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Browsing named entities in a specific section of P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams). Search the whole document.

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due The shades of thy Deiphobus received. My fate it was, and Helen's murderous wrong, Wrought me this woe; of her these tokens tell. For how that last night in false hope we passed, Thou knowest,—ah, too well we both recall! When up the steep of Troy the fateful horse Came climbing, pregnant with fierce men-at-arms, 't was she, accurst, who led the Phrygian dames In choric dance and false bacchantic song, And, waving from the midst a lofty brand, Signalled the Greeks from Ilium's central towerIlium's central tower In that same hour on my sad couch I lay, Exhausted by long care and sunk in sleep, That sweet, deep sleep, so close to tranquil death. But my illustrious bride from all the house Had stolen all arms; from 'neath my pillowed head She stealthily bore off my trusty sword; Then loud on Menelaus did she call, And with her own false hand unbarred the door; Such gift to her fond lord she fain would send To blot the memory of his ancient wrong! Why tell the tale, how on my couch they broke, While thei