And as they looked, the souls of all were filled
With quaking terror, pity, and amaze.
But when she reached the summit of the mound
And stood upon the lofty sepulcher,1150
Still with unfaltering step the maid advanced.
And now she turned her to the stroke of death
With eyes so fierce and fearless that she smote
The hearts of all, and, wondrous prodigy,
E'en Pyrrhus' bloody hand was slow to strike.
But soon, his right hand lifted to the stroke,1155