SCENE II.--_A Deep Wood.

_Enter_ PHILIDEL.

_Phil._ I left all safe behind; For, in the hindmost quarter of the wood, My former lord, grim Osmond, walks the round, Calls o'er the names, and schools the tardy sprites. His absence gives me more security. At every walk I passed, I drew a spell; So that, if any fiend, abhorring heaven, There sets his foot, it roots him to the ground. Now could I but discover Emmeline, My task were fairly done. [_Walking about, and prying betwixt the Trees._

_Enter_ GRIMBALD _rushing out: He seizes_ PHILIDEL, _and binds him in a Chain_.

_Grim._ O rebel, have I caught thee!

_Phil._ Ah me! what hard mishap!

_Grim._ What just revenge!-- Thou miscreant elf, thou renegado scout, So clean, so furbished, so renewed in white, The livery of our foes; I see thee through: What mak'st thou here? thou trim apostate, speak. Thou shak'st for fear, I feel thy false heart pant.

_Phil._ Ah mighty Grimbald, Who would not fear, when seized in thy strong gripe! But hear me, Oh renowned, Oh worthy fiend, The favourite of our chief!

_Grim._ Away with fulsome flattery, The food of fools; thou knowest where last we met, When, but for thee, the Christian had been swallowed In quaking bogs, and living sent to hell.

_Phil._ Ay, then I was seduced by Merlin's art, And half persuaded by his soothing tales, To hope for heaven; as if eternal doom Could be reversed, and undecreed for me; But I am now set right.

_Grim._ Oh, still thou think'st to fly a fool to mark.

_Phil._ I fled from Merlin, free as air that bore me, To unfold to Osmond all his deep designs.

_Grim._ I believe nothing: Oh thou fond impostor, When wert thou last in hell? Is not thy name Forgot, and blotted from the infernal roll? But since thou sayest, thy errand was to Osmond, To Osmond shalt thou go: march, know thy driver.

_Phil._ [_Kneeling._] Oh spare me, Grimbald, and I'll be thy slave, Tempt hermits for thee, in their holy cells, And virgins, in their dreams.

_Grim._ Canst thou, a devil, hope to cheat a devil? A spy! why, that's a name abhorred in hell. Haste, forward, forward, or I'll goad thee on With iron spurs.

_Phil._ But use me kindly then. Pull not so hard, to hurt my airy limbs; I'll follow thee unforced: look, there's thy way.

_Grim._ Ay, there's thy way indeed; but, for more surety, I'll keep an eye behind: not one word more, But follow decently. [GRIM. _goes out, dragging_ PHIL.

_Phil._ So, catch him, spell! [_Aside._

_Grim._ [_within._] Oh help me, help me, Philidel!

_Phil._ Why, what's the matter?

_Grim._ Oh, I am ensnared; Heaven's birdlime wraps me round, and glues my wings. Loose me, and I will free thee: Do, and I'll be thy slave.

_Phil._ What, to a spy, a name abhorred in hell?

_Grim._ Do not insult!--Oh, Oh, I grow to ground; The fiery net draws closer on my limbs.

_Phil._ Thou shalt not have the ease to curse in torments. Be dumb for one half hour,--so long my charm Can keep thee silent,--and there lie Till Osmond breaks thy chain. [PHILIDEL _unbinds his own Fetters_.

_Enter to him_ MERLIN, _with a Vial in his Hand; and_ ARTHUR.

_Mer._ Well hast thou wrought thy safety with thy wit, My Philidel; go meritorious on. Me other work requires, to view the wood, And learn to make the dire enchantments void. Mean time, attend king Arthur, in my room; Shew him his love, and with these sovereign drops Restore her sight. [_Exit_ MERLIN, _giving a Vial to_ PHILIDEL.

Phil. _We must work, we must haste; Noon-tide hour is almost past. Sprites, that glimmer in the sun, Into shades already run; Osmond will be here, anon._

_Enter_ EMMELINE _and_ MATILDA, _at the far end of the Wood_.

_Arth._ O yonder, yonder she's already found; My soul directs my sight, and flies before it.-- Now, gentle spirit, use thy utmost art, Unseal her eyes, and this way lead her steps.

[ARTHUR _withdraws behind the Scene_; EMMELINE _and_ MATILDA _come forward to the Front_; PHILIDEL _approaches_ EMMELINE, _sprinkling some of the Water over her eyes, out of the Vial_.

Phil. _Thus, thus I infuse These sovereign dews: Fly back, ye films, that cloud her sight; And you, ye crystal humours bright, Your noxious vapours purged away, Recover, and admit the day: Now cast your eyes abroad, and see All but me._

_Em._ Ha! What was that? Who spoke?

_Mat._ I heard the voice; 'tis one of Osmond's fiends.

_Em._ Some blessed angel sure. I feel my eyes Unsealed; they walk abroad, and a new world Comes rushing on, and stands all gay before me.

_Mat._ Oh heavens! Oh joy of joys! she has her sight!

_Em._ I am new-born; I shall run mad for pleasure. [_Staring on_ MAT.

Are women such as thou? Such glorious creatures?

_Arth._ [_Aside._] O how I envy her, to be first seen!

_Em._ Stand farther; let me take my fill of sight. [_Looking up._ What's that above, that weakens my new eyes, Makes me not see, by seeing?

_Mat._ 'Tis the sun.

_Em._ The sun! 'tis sure a God, if that be heaven:-- Oh! if thou art a creature, best and fairest, How well art thou from mortals so remote, To shine, and not to burn, by near approach! How hast thou lightened even my very soul, And let in knowledge by another sense! I gaze about, new-born to day and thee; A stranger yet, an infant of the world!-- Art thou not pleased, Matilda? Why, like me, Dost thou not look and wonder?

_Mat._ For these sights Are to my eyes familiar.

_Em._ That's my joy, Not to have seen before; for nature now Comes all at once, confounding my delight. But ah! what thing am I? Fain would I know; Or am I blind, or do I see but half? With all my care, and looking round about, I cannot view my face.

_Mat._ None see themselves But by reflection; in this glass you may. [_Gives her a glass._

_Em._ [_Taking the glass, and looking._] What's this? It holds a face within it:--Oh sweet face! It draws the mouth, and smiles, and looks upon me, And talks, but yet I cannot hear it speak; The pretty thing is dumb.

_Mat._ The pretty thing You see within the glass, is you.

_Em._ What! am I two? Is this another me? Indeed it wears my clothes, has hands like mine, And mocks whate'er I do; but that I'm sure I am a maid, I'd swear it were my child. [MATILDA _looks_. Look, my Matilda: We both are in the glass. Oh, now I know it plain; they are our names, That peep upon us there.

_Mat._ Our shadows, madam.

_Em._ Mine is a prettier shadow far, than thine. I love it; let me kiss my t'other self. [_Kissing the glass, and hugging it._ Alas, I've kissed it dead; the fine thing's gone: Indeed, it kissed so cold, as if 'twere dying.

[ARTHUR _comes forward softly, shewing himself behind her_. 'Tis here again; Oh no, this face is neither mine nor thine; I think the glass has born another child. [_She turns and sees_ ARTHUR. Ha! What art thou with a new kind of face, And other clothes? a noble creature too; But taller, bigger, fiercer in thy look; Of a controuling eye, majestic make?

_Mat._ Do you not know him, madam?

_Em._ Is't a man?

_Arth._ Yes; and the most unhappy of my kind, If you have changed your love.

_Em._ My dearest lord! Was my soul blind; and could not that look out, To know you, ere you spoke? Oh counterpart Of our soft sex! Well are you made our lords; So bold, so great, so godlike are you formed! How can you love such silly things as women?

_Arth._ Beauty like yours commands; and man was made But a more boisterous, and a stronger slave, To you, the best delights of human kind.

_Em._ But are you mine? Is there an end of war? Are all those trumpets dead themselves, at last, That used to kill men with their thundering sounds?

_Arth._ The sum of war is undecided yet; And many a breathing body must be cold, Ere you are free.

_Em._ How came you hither then?

_Arth._ By Merlin's art, to snatch a short-lived bliss; To feed my famished love upon your eyes One moment, and depart.

_Em._ O moment, worth Whole ages past, and all that are to come! Let love-sick Oswald now unpitied mourn; Let Osmond mutter charms to sprites in vain, To make me love him; all shall not change my soul.

_Arth._ Ha! Does the enchanter practise hell upon you? Is he my rival too?

_Em._ Yes, but I hate him; For, when he spoke, through my shut eyes I saw him; His voice look'd ugly, and breathed brimstone on me; And then I first was glad that I was blind, Not to behold damnation.

_Phil._ This time is left me to congratulate Your new-born eyes; and tell you what you gain By sight restored, and viewing him you love.-- Appear, ye airy forms!

[_Airy Spirits appear in the shapes of Men and Women._ Man sings. _Oh sight, the mother of desires, What charming objects dost thou yield! 'Tis sweet, when tedious night expires, To see the rosy morning gild The mountain-tops, and paint the field! But when Clarinda comes in sight, She makes the summer's day more bright; And when she goes away, 'tis night._

Chor. _When fair Clarinda comes in sight, &c._

Wom. sings. _'Tis sweet the blushing morn to view; And plains adorned with pearly dew:_ _But such cheap delights to see, Heaven and nature Give each creature; They have eyes, as well as we; This is the joy, all joys above, To see, to see, That only she, That only she we love!_

Chor. _This is the joy, all joys above, &c._

Man sings. _And if we may discover What charms both nymph and lover, 'Tis, when the fair at mercy lies, With kind and amorous anguish, To sigh, to look, to languish, On each other's eyes!_

Chorus of all Men and Women. _And if we may discover, &c._

_Phil._ Break off your music, for our foes are near. [_Spirits vanish._

_Enter_ MERLIN.

_Merl._ My sovereign, we have hazarded too far; But love excuses you, and prescience me: Make haste, for Osmond is even now alarmed, And, greedy of revenge, is hasting home.

_Arth._ Oh! take my love with us, or leave me here.

_Merl._ I cannot, for she's held by charms too strong, Which, with the enchanted grove, must be destroyed; Till when, my art is vain:--But fear not, Emmeline, The enchanter has no power on innocence.

_Em._ [_To Arth._] Farewell, since we must part: When you are gone, I'll look into my glass, just where you looked. To find your face again; If 'tis not there, I'll think on you so long, My heart shall make your picture for my eyes.

_Arth._ Where'er I go, my soul shall stay with thee; 'Tis but my shadow that I take away. True love is never happy but by halves; An April sunshine, that by fits appears, It smiles by moments, but it mourns by years. [_Exeunt_ ARTHUR _and_ MERLIN _at one door_.

_Enter_ OSMOND _at the other door, who gazes on_ EMMELINE, _and she on him_.

_Em._ Matilda, save me from this ugly thing, This foe to sight: speak; dost thou know him?

_Mat._ Too well; 'tis Oswald's friend, the great magician.

_Em._ It cannot be a man, he's so unlike the man I love.

_Osm._ [_Aside._] Death to my eyes, she sees!

_Em._ I wish I could not; but I'll close my sight, And shut out all I can.----It will not be; Winking, I see thee still; thy odious image Stares full into my soul, and there infects the room, My Arthur should possess.

_Osm._ [_Aside._] I find too late, That Merlin and her lover have been here. If I was fired before, when she was blind, Her eyes dart lightning now; she must be mine.

_Em._ I pr'ythee, dreadful thing, tell me thy business here, And, if thou canst, reform that odious face; Look not so grim upon me.

_Osm._ My name is Osmond, and my business love.

_Em._ Thou hast a grisly look,--forbidding what thou askest, If I durst tell thee so.

_Osm._ My pent-house eye-brows, and my shaggy beard, Offend your sight, but these are manly signs; Faint white and red abuse your expectations: Be woman; know your sex, and love full pleasures.

_Em._ Love from a monster, fiend?

_Osm._ Come, you must love, or you must suffer love; No coyness, none, for I am master here.

_Em._ And when did Oswald give away his power, That thou presum'st to rule? Be sure I'll tell him; For, as I am his prisoner, he is mine.

_Osm._ Why then, thou art a captive to a captive. O'er-laboured with the fight, opprest with thirst, That Oswald, whom you mentioned, called for drink: I mixt a sleepy potion in his bowl, Which he and his fool friend quaffed greedily: The happy dose wrought the desired effect; Then to a dungeon's depth I sent both bound; Where, stowed with snakes and adders, now they lodge, Two planks their beds, slippery with ooze and slime: The rats brush o'er their faces with their tails, And croaking paddocks crawl upon their limbs; Since when the garrison depends on me. Now know you are my slave.

_Mat._ He strikes a horror through my blood.

_Em._ I freeze, as if his impious art had fixed My feet to earth.

_Osm._ But love shall thaw ye. I'll show his force in countries caked with ice, Where the pale pole-star in the north of heaven Sits high, and on the frosty winter broods,-- Yet there love reigns: For proof, this magic wand Shall change the mildness of sweet Britain's clime To Iceland, and the farthest Thule's frost, Where the proud god, disdaining winter's bounds, O'erleaps the fences of eternal snow, And with his warmth supplies the distant sun.

OSMOND _strikes the Ground with his Wand: The Scene changes to a Prospect of Winter in Frozen Countries_.

CUPID _descends_.

Cup. } _What ho, thou Genius of the Clime, what ho!_ sings. } _Ly'st thou asleep beneath those hills of snow? Stretch out thy lazy limbs; awake, awake, And winter from thy furry mantle shake._

GENIUS Arises.

Genius. _What power art thou, who from below Hast made me rise, unwillingly, and slow, From beds of everlasting snow? See'st thou not how stiff and wond'rous old, Far unfit to bear the bitter cold? I can scarcely move, or draw my breath; Let me, let me, freeze again to death._

Cupid. _Thou doating fool, forbear, forbear; What, dost thou dream of freezing here? At Love's appearing, all the sky clearing, The stormy winds their fury spare: Winter subduing, and spring renewing, My beams create a more glorious year. Thou doating fool, forbear, forbear, What! dost thou dream of freezing here?_

Genius. _Great Love, I know thee now; Eldest of the gods art thou Heaven and earth by thee were made; Human nature Is thy creature, Every where thou art obeyed._

Cupid. _No part of my dominion shall be waste; To spread my sway, and sing my praise, Even here I will a people raise, Of kind embracing lovers, and embraced._

Cupid waves his Wand, upon which the Scene opens, and discovers a prospect of Ice and Snow to the end of the Stage.

Singers and Dancers, Men and Women, appear.

Man. _See, see, we assemble, Thy revels to hold; Though quiv'ring with cold, We chatter and tremble._

Cupid. _'Tis I, 'tis I, 'tis I, that have warmed ye: In spite of cold weather, I've brought you together: 'Tis I, 'tis I, 'tis I, that have armed ye._

Chor. _'Tis Love, 'tis Love, 'tis Love, that has warmed us; In spite of cold weather He brought us together: 'Tis Love, 'tis Love, 'tis Love, that has armed us._

Cupid. _Sound a parley, ye fair, and surrender; Set yourselves and your lovers at ease; He's a grateful offender Who pleasure dare seize; But the whining pretender Is sure to displease._

II.

_Since the fruit of desire is possessing, 'Tis unmanly to sigh and complain; When we kneel for redressing, We move your disdain:_ _Love was made for a blessing, And not for a pain._

A Dance; after which the Singers and Dancers depart.

_Em._ I could be pleased with any one but thee, Who entertained my sight with such gay shows, As men and women moving here and there, That, coursing one another in their steps, Have made their feet a tune.

_Osm._ What, coying it again! No more, but make me happy to my gust, That is, without your struggling.

_Em._ From my sight, Thou all thy devils in one! thou dar'st not force me.

_Osm._ You teach me well; I find you would be ravished. I'll give you that excuse your sex desires. [_He begins to lay hold on her, and they struggle._

_Grim._ [_Within._] O help me, master, help me!

_Osm._ Who's that? my Grimbald? Come and help thou me; For 'tis thy work to assist a ravisher.

_Grim._ [_Within._] I cannot stir; I am spell-caught by Philidel, And pursed within a net, With a huge heavy weight of holy words Laid on my head, that keeps me down from rising.

_Osm._ I'll read them backwards and release thy bonds.-- Mean time go in, [_To_ EMMELINE. Prepare yourself, and ease my drudgery: But if you will not fairly be enjoyed, A little honest force is well employed. [_Exit_ OSMOND.

_Em._ Heaven be my guard, I have no other friend! Heaven, ever present to thy suppliant's aid, Protect and pity innocence betrayed! [_Exeunt_ EMMELINE _and_ MATILDA.