Cynthia. 
Genius, offspring of the soul,
Prove this time thou ’rt so descended,
That thy proud ambitious hopes
May the laurel crown be tendered. [Exit.

Daria. 
Beauty, daughter of the gods,
Now thy glorious birth remember: 
Make me victress in the fight,
That the gods may live for ever. [Exit.

Scene iii.—­A hall in the house of Polemius, opening at the end upon a garden.

(Enter Polemius and Claudius.)

Polemius. 
Is then everything prepared?—­

Claudius. 
Everything has been got ready
As you ordered.  This apartment
Opening on the garden terrace
Has been draped and covered over
With the costliest silks and velvets,
Leaving certain spaces bare
For the painter’s magic pencil,
Where, so cunning is his art,
That it nature’s self resembles. 
Flowers more fair than in the garden,
Pinks and roses are presented: 
But what wonder when the fountains
Still run after to reflect them?—­
All things else have been provided,
Music, dances, gala dresses;
And for all that, Rome yet knows not
What in truth is here projected;
’T is a fair Academy,
In whose floral halls assemble
Beauty, wit, and grace, a sight
That we see but very seldom. 
All the ladies too of Rome
Have prepared for the contention
With due circumspection, since
As his wife will be selected
She who best doth please him; thus
There are none but will present them
In these gardens, some to see him,
Others to show off themselves here.

Polemius. 
Oh, my Claudius, would to Jove
That all this could dispossess me
Of my dark foreboding fancies,
Of the terrors that oppress me!—­

(Enter Aurelius.)

Aurelius. 
Sir, a very learned physician
Comes to proffer his best service
To Chrysanthus, led by rumour
Of his illness.

Polemius. 
                 Bid him enter.
[Aurelius retires, and returns immediately with Carpophorus, disguised
as a physician.]

Carpophorus (aside). 
Heaven, that I may do the work
That this day I have attempted,
Grant me strength a little while;
For I know my death impendeth!—­
Mighty lord, thy victor hand, [aloud. 
Let me kiss and kneeling press it.

Polemius. 
Venerable elder, rise
From the ground; thy very presence
Gives me joy, a certain instinct
Even at sight of thee doth tell me
Thou alone canst save my son.

Carpophorus. 
Heaven but grant the cure be perfect!

Polemius. 
Whence, sir, art thou?

Carpophorus. 
                        Sir, from Athens.

Polemius. 
’T is a city that excelleth
All the world in knowledge.