Now is the time! I shall discharge the debt.
Glorious tidings come from out the East!
And Mithridates hurries aid to us—
Let not that goblet fall I pray thee, friend!—
Ah! Dog and traitor! So this was your end!
Guards! Guards!—I think you will not rise again,
Perpenna, from that blow! Guards! Ho there, men!
A-a-ah! Thank you, Pompey! No, you will not take
Me back to grace your triumph: they have done
Their work too well, your friends. My sands are run.