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Now my curse on the murderer. Whoever he is, a lone man unknown in his crime or one among many, let that man drag out his life in agony, step by painful step.
No; death holds him in the tomb.
How is that? Is the aged Polybus no more in power?
For the gods' sake, if you have any care for your own life, forbear this search! My anguish is enough.
Be of good courage; though I be the found son of the servile mother, yes, a slave by three descents, you will not be proved base-born.
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