_Osw._ My way lies where I please. Expect (for Oswald's magic cannot fail) A long to-morrow, ere your arms prevail. Or, if I fall, make room, ye blessed above, For one who was undone, and died for love. [_Exit_ OSWALD _and his Party_. _Arth._ There may be one black minute ere to-morrow: For who can tell, what power, and lust, and charms, May do this night?--To arms, with speed, to arms. [_Exeunt._ ACT III. SCENE I. _Enter_ ARTHUR, CONON, _and_ AURELIUS. _Con._ Furl up our colours, and unbrace our drums; Dislodge betimes, and quit this fatal coast. _Arth._ Have we forgot to conquer? _Aur._ Cast off hope; The embattled legions of fire, air, and earth, Are banded for our foes: For, going to discover, with the dawn, Yon southern hill, which promised to the sight A rise more easy to attack the fort, Scarce had we stept on the forbidden ground, When the woods shook, the trees stood bristling up; A living trembling nodded through the leaves. _Arth._ Poplars, and aspen-boughs; a panic fright. _Con._ We thought so too, and doubled still our pace; But strait a rumbling sound, like bellowing winds, Rose and grew loud; confused with howls of wolves, And grunts of bears, and dreadful hiss of snakes; Shrieks more than human; globes of hail poured down An armed winter, and inverted day. _Arth._ Dreadful indeed! _Aur._ Count then our labour's lost; For other way lies none, to mount the cliff, Unless we borrow wings, and sail through air. _Arth._ Now I perceive a danger worthy me. 'Tis Osmond's work, a band of hell-hired slaves: Be mine the hazard, mine shall be the fame. [ARTHUR _is going out, but is met by_ MERLIN, _who takes him by the hand, and brings him back_. _Enter_ MERLIN. _Mer._ Hold, sir, and wait heaven's time; the attempt's too dangerous. There's not a tree in that enchanted grove, But's numbered out, and given by tale to fiends; And under every leaf a spirit couched. But by what method to dissolve these charms, Is yet unknown to me. _Aur._ Hadst thou been here,--for what can thwart thy skill?-- Nor Emmeline had been the boast of Oswald, Nor I, forewarned, been wanting to her guard. _Con._ Her darkened eyes had seen the light of heaven; That was thy promise too, and this the time. _Mer._ Nor has my aid been absent, though unseen, With friendly guides in your benighted maze: Nor Emmeline shall longer want the sun. _Arth._ Is there an end of woes? _Mer._ There is, and sudden. I have employed a subtle airy sprite To explore the passage, and prepare my way. Myself, mean time, will view the magic wood, To learn whereon depends its force. _Con._ But Emmeline!----