[The trumpet of Pania sounds without.
Sar.Hark!
Myr.Now!
Sar.Adieu, Assyria!
I loved thee well, my own, my fathers' land,
And better as my country than my kingdom.
I sated thee with peace and joys; and this
Is my reward! and now I owe thee nothing,
Not even a grave. [He mounts the pile.
Now, Myrrha!