Ara. Aristocles!
Aris. [Rising] You? you?
Ara. I, friend.
Aris. 'Tis you—and yet 'tis not.
A stranger soul, disordered and unknown,
Looks from your eyes.
Ara. My brother's false to thee.
This castle's murder's trap, and you are caught in 't!
Aris. I've had some thought 'twas so. I die to-night?