_Phil._ In hope of that, I spread my azure wings; And wishing still,--for yet I dare not pray,-- I bask in day-light, and behold, with joy, My scum work outward, and my rust wear off. _Mer._ Why, 'tis my hopeful devil. Now mark me, Philidel; I will employ thee, for thy future good. Thou know'st, in spite of valiant Oswald's arms, Or Osmond's powerful spells, the field is ours. _Phil._ Oh, master! hasten Thy dread commands; for Grimbald is at hand, Osmond's fierce fiend; I snuff his earthy scent. The conquering Britons he misleads to rivers, Or dreadful downfals of unheeded rocks; Where many fall, that ne'er shall rise again. _Mer._ Be that thy care, to stand by falls of brooks, And trembling bogs, that bear a green-sward show. Warn off the bold pursuers from the chace.-- No more; they come, and we divide the task. But, lest fierce Grimbald's ponderous bulk oppress Thy tender flitting air, I'll leave my band Of spirits, with united strength to aid thee, And force with force repel. [_Exit_ MERLIN _in his Chariot_. MERLIN'S _Spirits stay with_ PHILIDEL. _Enter_ GRIMBALD _in the habit of a Shepherd, followed by King_ ARTHUR, CONON, AURELIUS, ALBANACT, _and Soldiers, who wander at a distance in the Scenes_. _Grim._ Here, this way, Britons; follow Oswald's flight. This evening, as I whistled out my dog, To drive my straggling flock, and pitched my fold, I saw him, dropping sweat, o'er-laboured, stiff, Make faintly, as he could, to yonder dell. Tread in my steps; long neighbourhood by day Has made these fields familiar in the night. _Arth._ I thank thee, shepherd; Expect reward. Lead on, we follow thee. Phil. } _Hither this way, this way bend,_ sings. } _Trust not that malicious fiend; Those are false deluding lights, Wafted far and near by sprites. Trust them not, for they'll deceive ye, And in bogs and marshes leave ye._ Chor. of Phil. Spir. _Hither this way, this way bend._ Chor. of Grimb. Spir. _This way, this way bend._ Phil. } _If you step, no danger thinking,_ sings. } _Down you fall, a furlong sinking: 'Tis a fiend, who has annoyed ye; Name but heaven, and he'll avoid ye._ Chor. of Phil. Spir. _Hither this way, this way bend._ Chor. of Grimb. Spir. _This way, this way bend._ Philidel's Spirits. _Trust not that malicious fiend._ Grimbald's Spirits. _Trust me, I am no malicious fiend._ Philidel's Spirits. _Hither this way_, &c. _Con._ Some wicked phantom, foe to human kind, Misguides our steps. _Alba._ I'll follow him no further. _Grimb._ By hell, she sings them back, in my despite. I had a voice in heaven, ere sulphurous steams Had damped it to a hoarseness; but I'll try.