This
conclusion they reached privately, when the emperor asked and
conjured them to tell him the truth. They reply that they have
no confidence in her recovery, and that she cannot live past
three o'clock but will yield up her soul before that time. When
the emperor heard this, he almost fell unconscious to the floor,
as well as many others who heard the news. Never did any people
make such moan as there was then throughout the palace. However,
I will speak no further of their grief; but you shall hear of
Thessala's activities--how she mixes and brews the potion. She
mixed and stirred it up, for she had provided herself a long time
in advance with everything which she would need for the potion.
A little before three o'clock she gives her the potion to drink.
At once her sight became dimmed, her face grew as pale and white
as if she had lost her blood: she could not have moved a foot or
hand, if they had flayed her alive, and she does not stir or say
a word, although she perceives and hears the emperor's grief and
the cries which fill the hall. The weeping crowds lament through
all the city, saying: "God! what woe and misfortune has been
brought upon us by wicked death! O covetous and voracious death!
Death is worse than a she-wolf which always remains insatiable.
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