He drove the weapon deep within her breast;
And straight from that deep wound the blood burst forth
In sudden streams. But still the noble maid
Did not give o'er her bold and haughty mien,
Though in the act of death. For in her fall
She smote the earth with angry violence,
As if to make it heavy for the dead.
Then flowed the tears of all. The Trojans groaned1160
With secret woe, since fear restrained their tongues;
But openly the victors voiced their grief.