er soon spread through the city. Amphion, when he
heard that all his sons had perished, fell on his own sword. Then the
loud cries of his servants penetrated to the women's quarters.

For a long time Niobe could not believe that the gods had thus brought
vengeance. When she did, how unlike was she to the Niobe who drove the
people from the altars of the mighty goddess and strode through the city
with haughty mien. Crazed with grief she rushed out to the field where
her sons had been stricken, threw herself on their dead bodies, kissing
now this one and now that. Then, raising her arms to heaven, she cried,
"Look now upon my distress, thou cruel Latona; for the death of these
seven bows me to the earth. Triumph thou, O my victorious enemy!"

Now the seven daughters of Niobe, clad in garments of mourning, drew
near, and with loosened hair stood around their brothers. And the sight
of them brought a ray of joy to Niobe's white face. She forgot her grief
for a moment, and casting a scornful look to heaven, said, "Victor! No,
for even in my loss I have more than thou in thy happiness!"

Hardly had she spoken when there was the sound of a drawn bow. The
bystanders grew cold with fear, but Niobe was not frightened, for
misfortune had made her strong.

Suddenly one of the sisters put her hand to her breast and drew out an
arrow that had pierced her; then, unconscious, she sank to the ground.
Another daughter hastened to her mother to comfort her, but before she
could reach her she was laid low by a hidden wound. One after another
the rest fell, until only the last was left. She had fled to Niobe's lap
and childlike was hiding her face in her mother's garments.

"Leave me only this one," cried Niobe, "just the youngest of so many."

But even while she prayed the child fell lifeless from her lap, and
Niobe sat alone among the dead bodies of her husband, her sons and her
daughters. She was speechless with grief; no breath of air stirred the
hair on her head; the blood left her face; the eyes remained fixed on
the grief-stricken countenance; in the whole body there was no longer
any sign of life. The veins ceased to carry blood; the neck stiffened;
arms and feet grew rigid; the whole body was transformed into cold and
lifeless stone. Nothing living remained to her except her tears, which
continued flowing from her stony eyes.

Then a mighty wind lifted the image of stone, carried it over the sea
and set it down in Lydia, the