Nisida. 
Stay, Daria.

Cynthia. 
              Stay, ’t is rashness
Here to come, for, full of wonders,
Full of terrors is this garden.

Escarpin. 
Do not enter:  awful omens
Threat’ning death await thy advent.

Nisida. 
By my miseries admonished . . . .

Cynthia. 
By my strange misfortune startled . . .

Nisida. 
Flying from myself, I leave
This green sphere, dismayed, distracted.

Cynthia. 
Without soul or life I fly,
Overwhelmed by this enchantment.

Nisida. 
Oh! how dreadful!

Cynthia. 
                   Oh! how awful!

Nisida. 
Oh! the horror!

Cynthia. 
                 Oh! the anguish! [Exeunt Cynthia and Nisida.]

Escarpin. 
Mad with jealousy and rage
Have the tuneful twain departed.

Daria (aside). 
Chastisements for due offences
Do not fright me, do not startle,
For if they through arrogance
And ambition sought this garden,
Me the worship of the gods
Here has led, and so I ’m guarded
’Gainst all sorceries whatsoever,
’Gainst all forms of Christian magic:—­
Art thou then Chrysanthus?

Chrysanthus. 
                            Yes.

Daria. 
Not confused or troubled, rather
With a certain fear I see thee,
For which I have grounds most ample.

Chrysanthus. 
Why?

Daria. 
      Because I thought thou wert
One who in a darksome cavern
Died to show thy love for me.

Chrysanthus. 
I have yet been not so happy
As to have a chance, Daria,
Of thus proving my attachment.

Daria. 
Be that so, I ’ve come to seek thee,
Confident, completely sanguine,
That I have the power to conquer,
I alone, thy pains, thy anguish;
Though against me thou shouldst use
The Christian armoury—­enchantments.

Chrysanthus. 
That thou hast alone the power
To subdue the pains that wrack me,
I admit it; but in what
Thou hast said of Christian magic
I, Daria, must deny it.

Daria. 
How? from what cause else could happen
The effects I just have witnessed?

Chrysanthus. 
Miracles they are and marvels.

Daria. 
Why do they affect not me?

Chrysanthus. 
’T is because I do not ask them
Against thee; because from aiding
Not myself, no aid is granted.

Daria. 
Then I come here to undo them.

Chrysanthus. 
Most severe will be the battle,
Upon one side their due praises
On the other side thy anger.

Daria. 
I would have thee understand
That our gods are sorely damaged
By thy sentiments.