_Nig._ I charge thee, spirit, stay; and by the power [_To_ DAMILCAR. Of Nakar's love, and of this holy wand, On the north quarter of my circle stand, (Seven foot around for my defence I take.) To all my questions faithful answers make! So mayest thou live thy thousand years in peace, And see thy airy progeny increase: So mayest thou still continue young and fair, Fed by the blast of pure ætherial air, And, thy full term expired, without all pain, Dissolve into thy astral source again. _Dam._ Name not my hated rival Gemory, And I'll speak true whate'er thy questions be. _Nig._ Thy rival's hated name I will refrain: Speak, shall the emperor his love obtain? _Dam._ Few hours shall pass before your emperor shall be Possessed of that he loves, or from that love be free. _Plac._ Shall I enjoy that beauty I adore? _Dam._ She, suppliant-like, ere long, thy succour shall implore: And thou with her thou lovest in happiness may'st live, If she not dies before, who all thy joys can give. _Nig._ Say, what does the Egyptian princess now? _Dam._ A gentle slumber sits upon her brow. _Nig._ Go, stand before her in a golden dream: Set all the pleasures of the world to shew, And in vain joys let her loose spirit flow. _Dam._ Twice fifty tents remove her from your sight, But I'll cut through them all with rays of light; And covering other objects to your eyes, Shew where entranced in silent sleep she lies. DAMILCAR _stamps, and the bed arises with St_ CATHARINE _in it_. DAMILCAR singing. _You pleasing dreams of love and sweet delight, Appear before this slumbering virgins sight: Soft visions set her free From mournful piety. Let her sad thoughts from heaven retire; And let the melancholy love Of those remoter joys above Give place to your more sprightly fire. Let purling streams be in her fancy seen; And flowery meads, and vales of chearful green: And in the midst of deathless groves Soft sighing wishes lie, And smiling hopes fast by, And just beyond them ever-laughing loves._ _A_ SCENE _of a Paradise is discovered_. _Plac._ Some pleasing objects do her mind employ; For on her face I read a wandering joy. SONG. Dam. _Ah how sweet it is to love! Ah how gay is young desire! And what pleasing pains we prove When we first approach love's fire! Pains of love be sweeter far Than all other pleasures are._ _Sighs, which are from lovers blown, Do but gently heave the heart: Even the tears they shed alone, Cure, like trickling balm, their smart. Lovers when they lose their breath, Bleed away in easy death._