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ARTINA.

Ha! does this rouse thee so? Yet, ne'ertheless,

I'll send for him, and he will make thee well.

SAMARKOON.

I'm well if thou art so, my gentle sister.

ARTINA.

And I am so; how canst thou doubt it, brother,

Being so loving and so well beloved.

SAMARKOON.

O yes! thou art indeed beloved most dearly,

Both thee and thine, and so shall ever be,
Whilst life gives motion to thy brother's heart.

ARTINA.

A brother's heart!—How so? there is a meaning,—

A meaning and a mystery in this.
Tears, too, are on my hand, dropt from thine eyes;—
O, speak, and tell the worst!

SAMARKOON.

I may not now.

I pray thee, let me go; I cannot speak.

[Breaks from her and exit. Then Sabawatté comes forward and takes hold of her robe with an action of soothing tenderness.]