Chapter_118

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Read ye to me his name⁠—upon mine inmost heart ’tis writ⁠—

Archestratus’ son, he who won the Olympian victory:

I owe him a sweet triumph-song⁠—I had forgotten it!

At last, O Muse, and thou, O Truth, the child of Zeus most high,

Do ye with your atoning hands make of the offence an end:

Blot out the stain of broken troth, the sin against a friend!