By his ill-fated bride was he, whose virgin hand
In wedlock’s primal rite her sire had given him.
But Tyre’s domain Pygmalion her brother held,
Surpassing all in crime. Between these Tyrian lords
A deadly feud arose. With impious hand and blind
With love of gold, Pygmalion, at the altar-side,
With stealthy, unsuspected stroke Sychæus slew;
And little recked he of his sister’s doting love.
Æneas (III. 56, 57):
O awful, quenchless thirst of gold! ‘T was ever thus