_Grim._ Ay, there's thy way indeed; but, for more surety, I'll keep an eye behind: not one word more, But follow decently. [GRIM. _goes out, dragging_ PHIL. _Phil._ So, catch him, spell! [_Aside._ _Grim._ [_within._] Oh help me, help me, Philidel! _Phil._ Why, what's the matter? _Grim._ Oh, I am ensnared; Heaven's birdlime wraps me round, and glues my wings. Loose me, and I will free thee: Do, and I'll be thy slave. _Phil._ What, to a spy, a name abhorred in hell? _Grim._ Do not insult!--Oh, Oh, I grow to ground; The fiery net draws closer on my limbs. _Phil._ Thou shalt not have the ease to curse in torments. Be dumb for one half hour,--so long my charm Can keep thee silent,--and there lie Till Osmond breaks thy chain. [PHILIDEL _unbinds his own Fetters_. _Enter to him_ MERLIN, _with a Vial in his Hand; and_ ARTHUR. _Mer._ Well hast thou wrought thy safety with thy wit, My Philidel; go meritorious on. Me other work requires, to view the wood, And learn to make the dire enchantments void. Mean time, attend king Arthur, in my room; Shew him his love, and with these sovereign drops Restore her sight. [_Exit_ MERLIN, _giving a Vial to_ PHILIDEL. Phil. _We must work, we must haste; Noon-tide hour is almost past. Sprites, that glimmer in the sun, Into shades already run; Osmond will be here, anon._ _Enter_ EMMELINE _and_ MATILDA, _at the far end of the Wood_. _Arth._ O yonder, yonder she's already found; My soul directs my sight, and flies before it.-- Now, gentle spirit, use thy utmost art, Unseal her eyes, and this way lead her steps. [ARTHUR _withdraws behind the Scene_; EMMELINE _and_ MATILDA _come forward to the Front_; PHILIDEL _approaches_ EMMELINE, _sprinkling some of the Water over her eyes, out of the Vial_. Phil. _Thus, thus I infuse These sovereign dews: Fly back, ye films, that cloud her sight; And you, ye crystal humours bright, Your noxious vapours purged away, Recover, and admit the day: Now cast your eyes abroad, and see All but me._ _Em._ Ha! What was that? Who spoke? _Mat._ I heard the voice; 'tis one of Osmond's fiends. _Em._ Some blessed angel sure. I feel my eyes Unsealed; they walk abroad, and a new world Comes rushing on, and stands all gay before me. _Mat._ Oh heavens! Oh joy of joys! she has her sight! _Em._ I am new-born; I shall run mad for pleasure. [_Staring on_ MAT. Are women such as thou? Such glorious creatures? _Arth._ [_Aside._] O how I envy her, to be first seen!