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MONTEBESA.

Rasinga, as thou know'st, did, short while since,

A mountain chief and his fair daughter rescue
From ruffian robbers. In its youthful charms
He saw the virgin's unveil'd face. Alas!
A sight so rare he could not see unmoved.
Restless and troubled, like a stricken wretch
Whom sorcery possesses, for a while
He strove against his passion, but at length
Nature gave way; and thou may'st guess what follows.

ARTINA.

What follows!—What has followed?

MONTEBESA.

Our gates must soon receive this youthful bride;

And thou, dear daughter, must prepare thyself
To bear some natural change.

[Artina faints away in the arms of Sabawatté.]

SABAWATTÉ.

I knew it would be so! Oh, my dear mistress!

These cruel words have dealt the fatal blow.

MONTEBESA.

Be not afraid of this infirmity,

Which, though it seems appalling, brings relief,
Ev'n like Niwané, when the virtuous soul
Hath run, through many a change, its troubled course.
Let us remove her gently to my couch.
[Exeunt.