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C. gargilius haemon read his own epitaph. He read slowly, sitting on the stairs beside the tablet, moving his lamp from line to line, and watching the words leap into clarity and fade again. It was a beautiful epitaph. Its warm phrases comforted him; its rhythms from the poets sang in his head. There was a whole line of verse to end it. He chanted it softly.
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- Copyright © The Classical Association 1935