The clouds are thinning and the light is going down . . . there is no hope for me.
I look into the weed infested, abused wheat fields; I'm trapped. But in spite of my despair I feel my eyes wander the horizon back and forth. . . back and forth. . .
A shape disrupts the bend of the earth. It gradually enlarges and becomes more discernible as it moves towards me. My confused interpretation of the dark shape frightens me and I find myself trembling. Until . . .
Can it be ? Do I dare hope again?
It is! It is! It is true! It is he! My own dear and brave prince, come at last to vanquish my enemies!
[grateful and effeminate sigh]
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