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XLIV
Then, whirling up his broadsword With both hands to the height, He rushed against Horatius, And smote1 with all his might. With shield and blade Horatius Right deftly2 turned the blow. The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh; It missed his helm, but gashed3 his thigh4: The Tuscans raised a joyful5 cry To see the red blood flow. 点击收听单词发音
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