Aeneid 2.506-58

Perhaps you also ask what were the fates of Priam. When he saw the fall of his captured city and the uprooted thresholds of his homes and the enemy amidst in the innermost chambers, long too old in vain he puts unaccustomed arms and useless sword on shoulders trembling with age, and is born about to die into the dense enemy. In the middle of the shrines and under the bare axle of the sky was an altar, huge and encircled close by the Penates. Here Hecuba and her daughters around the altars in vain, like doves headlong from the dark storm, sat crowded together and clinging to the images of the gods. But with youthful arms having been taken up, as she saw Priam himself, she said 'what so hard a mind, most wretched husband, forced (you) to put on these weapons? or to where do you rush? The time is not needing such aid nor such defenders: not if now my Hector himself were present. To this at least yield: this altar will protect all, or you will die simultaneously (with us).' This having spoken with his mouth, she received him to herself and put the old man on the sacred seat.

(526) But look, Polites having slipped from the slaughter of Pyrrhus through the weapons, through the weapons, one of the sons of Priam flees from the long porticos and, wounded, seeks the empty atriums. Pyrrhus, burning, attacks that man with a hostile wound, now and already he holds by hand and presses with the spear. When at last he escaped before the eyes and faces of his parents he fell and poured out his life with much blood. Here Priam, although held already in the middle of death, however did not hold back and did not spare his voice and anger; he shouts, 'But for the crime for such reckless acts may the gods pay you back worthy thanks and return owed rewards, if there is any piety in the sky which cares for such things, who made me openly see the death of my child and befouled a fathers face (lit. pl.). But that Achilles, from whom you falsely claim you were born, was not such to Priam in enmity; but he blushed at the rights and faith of a suppliant and returned the bloodless body of Hector to a tomb and sent me back into my kingdoms.' Thus the too old man spoke and threw his feeble spear without a blow, which was straightway repulsed by the raucous bronze and in vain hung from the high boss of the shield. To whom Pyrrhus: ' Therefore you will bear back these (words) and a messenger you will go to my father, son of Peleus. Remember to tell that man my sad deeds and (of) the degenerate Neoptolemus. Now die.' Saying this, he drug him trembling to the altars himself and slipping in the plentiful (lit. much) blood of his son, and wound his hair in his left hand, and with his right he brought out his flashing sword and buried (it) as far as the hilt in his side. This was the end of the fates of Priam, this end bore him away by lot, seeing Troy burned and Pergama collapsed, once the proud ruler of so many peoples and lands of Asia. He throws the huge trunk on the shore and the head torn from his shoulders and the body without a name.