Volume 8 / Act 2 — ACT II. SCENE I.

Phil. Alas, for pity, of this bloody field! Piteous it needs must be, when I, a spirit, Can have so soft a sense of human woes! Ah, for so many souls, as but this morn Were clothed with flesh, and warmed with vital blood, But naked now, or shirted but with air!

Mer. What art thou, spirit? of what name, or order? For I have viewed thee in my magic glass, Making thy moan among the midnight wolves, That bay the silent moon; speak, I conjure thee. 'Tis Merlin bids thee, at whose awful wand The pale ghost quivers, and the grim fiend gasps. Phil. An airy shape, the tenderest of my kind, The last seduced, and least deformed, of hell; Half-white, and shuffled in the crowd, I fell, Desirous to repent, and loth to sin; Awkward in mischief, piteous of mankind. My name is Philidel, my lot in air, Where, next beneath the moon, and nearest heaven, I soar, and have a glimpse to be received, For which the swarthy dæmons envy me. Mer. Thy business here? Phil. To shun the Saxon wizard's dire commands, Osmond, the awfullest name, next thine, below. 'Cause I refused to hurl a noisome fog On christened heads, the hue and cry of hell Is raised against me, for a fugitive sprite. Mer. Osmond shall know, a greater power protects thee. But follow thou the whispers of thy soul, That draw thee nearer heaven; And, as thy place is nearest to the sky, The rays will reach thee first, and bleach thy soot. 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.

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. He sings. Let not a moon-born elf mislead ye From your prey, and from your glory. Too far, alas! he has betrayed ye: Follow the flames, that wave before ye; Sometimes seven, and sometimes one; Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry on. See, see the footsteps plain appearing, That way Oswald chose for flying; Firm is the turf, and fit for bearing, Where yonder pearly dews are lying. Far he cannot hence be gone; Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry on. Aur. 'Tis true he says; the footsteps yet are fresh Upon the sod, no falling dew-drops have Disturbed the print. [All are going to follow Grimbald. Philidel sings. Hither this way. 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. Grimb. Spirits. Trust me, I am no malicious fiend. Philidel's Spirits. Hither this way, &c. [They all incline to Philidel. Grim. Curse on her voice! I must my prey forego;— Thou, Philidel, shalt answer this below. [Grimbald sinks with a Flash. Arth. At last the cheat is plain; The cloven-footed fiend is vanished from us; Good angels be our guides, and bring us back! Phil. singing. Come follow, follow, follow me. Chor. Come follow, &c. And me; and me; and me; and me. Vers. 2 Voc. And green-sward all your way shall be. Chor. Come follow, &c. Vers. No goblin or elf shall dare to offend ye. Chor. No, no, no, &c. No goblin or elf shall dare to offend ye. Ver. 3 Voc. We brethren of air, You heroes will bear, To the kind and the fair that attend ye. Chor. We brethren, &c.