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I have now sacrificed the "handsomest ewe of all our flock to assuage the nations of the dead".
I wanted to become a lamb chop!
How is this Elpenor, how could you journey to the western gloom swifter afoot than I in the black lugger?
Odysseus, bad luck shadowed me and no kindly power; ignoble death I drank so much wine.
Odysseus, master of land ways and sea ways, hold out your blood, and I shall speak true.
Mother, how are you here, you should be back home, protecting our livestock from those horrid suitors.
My son, I have grown old of grief, grief is the cause of my death. Laertes has fled to the country, and Penelope and Telemacus are wating
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