"Dear relics! loved while Fate and Jove were kind, Receive this soul, and free me from my woe.
My life is lived; behold, the course assigned By Fortune now is finished, and I go, A shade majestic, to the world below, A glorious city I have built, have seen My walls, avenged my husband of his foe.
Thrice happy, ah! too happy had I been Had Dardan ships, alas! not come to bring me teen!" LXXXVII.

She paused, and pressed her lips upon the bed.
"To die--and unavenged?
Yea, let me die! Thus--thus it joys to journey to the dead.
Let yon false Dardan with remorseful eye Drink in this bale-fire from the deep, and sigh To bear the omens of my death."-- No more She said, but swooned.

The servants see her lie, Sunk on the sword; they see the life-blood pour, Reddening her tender hands, the weapon drenched with gore.
LXXXVIII.

Then through the lofty palace rose a scream, And madly Rumour riots, as she flies Through the shocked town.

The very houses seem To groan, and shrieks, and sobbing and the cries Of wailing women pierce the vaulted skies.
'Twas e'en as though all Carthage or old Tyre Were falling, stormed by ruthless enemies, While over roof and battlement and spire And temples of the Gods rolled on the infuriate fire.
LXXXIX.