But with my tongue I give you here to know,
That I possess this city's ill-kept keys,
Which Death hath triumphed over as a foe!
Scipio.
O youth, I come desirous to have these;
But more to let thee know what lies for thee
Of pity in this bosom, if thou please.
Viriato.
Too late is all thy tardy clemency,
When there are none to claim it, since I go