Dar. (aside).Oh, hypocrite!
(Aloud.) Shun thee, my own Selene? No—not I!
Sel. Bless thee for that! I feared to meet thy face,
For all my loved companions turned from me
With scornful jest and bitter mockery.
Thou—thou—Darine, alone art true to me!
Dar. True to Selene while Selene breathes!
Come—tell me all thy woes.
Sel.My Ethais—
He whom I love so fondly—he is ill,