Let me but fall upon my rival's corse,
And I shall die content. For happy he
Who drags with him his enemy to death.350
Nurse: Why dost thou feed thy passion's flames, poor child,
And nurse thy grief? Why cherish needless fear?
He did feel love for Iole, 'tis true;
But in the time while yet her father reigned,
And while she was a haughty monarch's child.
The princess now has fallen to the place
Of slave, and love has lost its power to charm,355