O all ye Gods—Jupiter!—Jupiter! [_Falls backward._ CAMMA. Dost thou cry out upon the Gods of Rome? Thou art Galatian-born. Our Artemis Has vanquish’d their Diana. SYNORIX (_on the ground_). I am poison’d. She—close the Temple doors. Let her not fly. CAMMA (_leaning on tripod_). Have I not drunk of the same cup with thee? SYNORIX. Ay, by the Gods of Rome and all the world, She too—she too—the bride! the Queen! and I— Monstrous! I that loved her. CAMMA. I loved _him_. SYNORIX. O murderous mad-woman! I pray you lift me And make me walk awhile. I have heard these poisons May be walk’d down. [_ANTONIUS and PUBLIUS raise him up._ My feet are tons of lead, They will break in the earth—I am sinking—hold me— Let me alone. [_They leave him; he sinks down on ground._ Too late—thought myself wise— A woman’s dupe. Antonius, tell the Senate I have been most true to Rome—would have been true To _her_—if—if—— [_Falls as if dead._ CAMMA (_coming and leaning over him_). So falls the throne of an hour. SYNORIX (_half rising_). Throne? is it thou? the Fates are throned, not we— Not guilty of ourselves—thy doom and mine— Thou—coming my way too—Camma—good-night. [_Dies._ CAMMA (_upheld by weeping Priestesses_). Thy way? poor worm, crawl down thine own black hole To the lowest Hell. Antonius, is _he_ there? I meant thee to have follow’d—better thus. Nay, if my people must be thralls of Rome, He is gentle, tho’ a Roman. [_Sinks back into the arms of the Priestesses._ ANTONIUS. Thou art one With thine own people, and tho’ a Roman I Forgive thee, Camma. CAMMA (_raising herself_).