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Must soon be known to all; my son Rasinga Hath set his heart upon a younger bride, Perhaps a fairer too.

No; not a fairer. I'd peril life and limb upon the bet, She is not half so fair, nor half so good.

Be not so hasty.—Why dost thou regard it As such a grievous thing? She has already Enjoyed his undivided love much longer Than other dames have done with other lords, And reason teaches she should now give place.

Reason and cruelty sort ill together; A loorie haunting with a spotted pard. Ah! woe the day! Why have you told me this?

Because I would upon your sadden'd brow Print traces which may lead our poor Artina To question thee; and thou, who art her friend, Canst by degrees, with gentle, wise precaution, Reveal to her what she must needs be told.

I cannot: put not such a task on me, I do implore your goodness!—No, I cannot.