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Rh

If such the city's doom, who can foresee? O, let him then his painful station hold, Gen'rous Valeria! from one care reliev'd, His heaviest care, the thought of leaving thee The involv'd witness of such horrid things!

What would'st thou say in this? Think'st thou the ruin In which he perishes will have for me Or form or circumstances? It will be Th' upbreaking crash of all existing things, That undistinguish'd is, and felt but once. Othus, thou talk'd like an unskilful sage: It was not thus thy master bade thee speak.

Valeria, hard necessity compels us. I have already safe asylum sought For the last tender remnant of our race, That something might from this dire wreck be sav'd, And shall I not for thee

No; I am nothing But what I am for thee! When that is finish'd—

Ah, my Valeria, but that will not finish! Thou still may'st be for me—thou still may'st bear