Myr.They are here, then:—aye,250
Their shouts come ringing through the ancient halls,
Never profaned by rebel echoes till
This fatal night. Farewell, Assyria's line!
Farewell to all of Nimrod! Even the name
Is now no more.
Pan.Away with me—away!
Myr. No: I'll die here!—Away, and tell your King
I loved him to the last.
Enter Sardanapalus and Salemenes with Soldiers. Pania quits Myrrha, and ranges himself with them.