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Dost thou too look on me with pity?—Speak; I charge thee speak, and tell the fearful cause, Since no one else will do it.

My dear Artina, thou shalt know the truth, Which can no longer be concealed; but listen, Listen with patience to the previous story, And thou wilt see how fated, strange events Have caused within Rasinga's noble heart, Ev'n he who has so long and dearly loved thee, A growing possibility of change.

If he is changed, why should I know the rest? All is comprised in this. (With actions of despair.)

Nay, do not wring thy hands, but listen to me. Sit on this seat and call up strength to hear me. Thou giv'st no heed to me; thou dost not hear.

I'm faint and very cold; mine ears ring strangely; There is a story then: I'll hear it now.