Book, Chapter

1    1,  15|   Of the hard words and the beating he gave her I will say nothing,
2    3,  93|    his altar a victim, lies beating~The ground. Thus the city
3    3, 100|     I wished him joy of his beating. Giton, however, forgetting
4    4, 105|    at this thunderbolt and, beating my throat, "Oh Destiny,"
5    4, 115| cortege with her hair down, beating her naked breast in sight
6    4, 127|   terror flies forth and on beating wings seeks the high summit~
7    5, 141|    AND THIRTY SEVENTH.~But, beating her palms together, "You