Escarpin.
What strange results such strange events produce!
The very wonder serves as an excuse.
Nisida.
Well, we must only hope that it is so.
Come, Cynthia, let us follow her.
Cynthia.
Let
us go.
Escarpin.
And I with love most fervent,
Ladies, will be your very humble servant. [Exeunt.
Scene iv.—A wilder part of the wood near the cave.
(Enter DARIA guided by the lion.)
Daria.
O mighty lion, whither am I led?
Where wouldst thou guide me with thy stately tread,
That seems to walk not on the earth, but air?
But lo! he has entered there
Where yonder cave its yawning mouth lays bare,
[The lion enters a cave.]
Leaving me here alone.
But now fate clears, and all will soon be known;
For if I read aright
The signs this desert gives unto my sight,
It is the very place whence echo gave
Responsive music from this mystic cave.
Terror and wonder both my senses scare,
Ah! whither shall I go?
Chrysanthus (within).
Daria
fair!
Daria.
Who calls my hapless name?
Each leaf that moves doth thrill this wretched frame
With boding and with dread.
But why say wretched? I had better said
Thrice bless`ed: O great God whom I adore,
Baptize me in those tears that I outpour,
In no more fitting form can I declare
My faith and hope in thee.
Chrysanthus (within).
Daria
fair.
Daria.
Who calls my name? who wakes those wild alarms?
(Enter Chrysanthus.)
Chrysanthus.
Belov`ed bride, ’t is one to whom thy charms
Are even less dear than is thy soul, ah! me,
One who would live and who will die with thee.
Daria.
Belov`ed spouse, my heart could not demand
Than thus to see thee near, to clasp thy hand,
A sweeter solace for my long dismay,
And all the awful wonders of this day.
Hear the surprising tale,
And thou wilt know . . .
Voices (within).
Search
hill.
Others.
And
plain.
Others.
And
vale.
Chrysanthus.
Hush! the troops our fight pursuing
Have the forest precincts entered.[17]
Daria.
What then shall I do, Chrysanthus?
Chrysanthus.
Keep thy faith, thy life surrender:—
Daria.
I a thousand lives would offer:
Since to God I ’m so indebted
That I ’ll think myself too happy
If ’t is given for Him.
Polemius (within).
This
centre
Of the mountain, whence the sun
Scarcely ever is reflected—
This dark cavern sure must hold them.
Let us penetrate its entrails,
So that here the twain may die.