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Updated: June 23, 2025
Ye sons of Atreus, may your vows be crowned, kings and warriors Your labours, by the gods be all your labours crowned; So may the gods your arms with conquest bless, And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground; Till laid And crown your labours with desired success; May Jove restore you when your toils are o'er Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.
Behind the luminous streams of this aurora militaris, she could see the hue of Troy's sword arm, spread in a scarlet haze over the space covered by its motions, like a twanged harpstring, and behind all Troy himself, mostly facing her; sometimes, to show the rear cuts, half turned away, his eye nevertheless always keenly measuring her breadth and outline, and his lips tightly closed in sustained effort.
There was a momentary hush, and then for Troy's sense of humour is impartial, and everyone knew from what source Captain Hocken derived his public eloquence the air was rent with shout upon shout of merriment. Even the band caught the contagion.
But then again calling to mind his ancient courage, he secretly wished that Minerva would but breathe such a spirit into his bosom as she enflamed him with in the hour of Troy's destruction, that he might encounter with three hundred of those impudent suitors at once, and strew the pavements of his beautiful palace with their bloods and brains.
It had brought upon her a stroke resulting, as did that of Moses in Horeh, in a liquid stream here a stream of tears. She felt like one who has sinned a great sin. The circumstance had been the gentle dip of Troy's mouth downwards upon her own. He had kissed her.
Nothing moved in sky, land, or sea, except a frill of milkwhite foam along the nearer angles of the shore, shreds of which licked the contiguous stones like tongues. He descended and came to a small basin of sea enclosed by the cliffs. Troy's nature freshened within him; he thought he would rest and bathe here before going farther. He undressed and plunged in.
Bathsheba inquired, the next time that Liddy entered the room. "I think 'twas because two men came just then from Casterbridge and began putting up a grand carved tombstone," said Liddy. "The lads went to see whose it was." "Do you know?" Bathsheba asked. "I don't," said Liddy. When Troy's wife had left the house at the previous midnight his first act was to cover the dead from sight.
Nearly all the flowers were washed clean out of the ground, and they lay, roots upwards, on the spots whither they had been splashed by the stream. Troy's brow became heavily contracted. He set his teeth closely, and his compressed lips moved as those of one in great pain. This singular accident, by a strange confluence of emotions in him, was felt as the sharpest sting of all.
A child may fear, a wife may weep, but of all sad things none other Seems half so sorrowful to me as being a drunkard's mother." At the sound of Mr. Troy's bell, Eleanor Graves vanished into his private office. Ten minutes later she came out, with a deep flush on her face and tears in her eyes.
Be mine in life to stand Troy's bulwark! fighting for our hearths, to go In death, exulting to the streams below, Slain for my fatherland! ANDROMACHE. No more I hear thy martial footsteps fall Thine arms shall hang, dull trophies, on the wall Fallen the stem of Troy! Thou goest where slow Cocytus wanders where Love sinks in Lethe, and the sunless air Is dark to light and joy!
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