University of Virginia Library

Scene Second.

—The Garden in front of Urganda's Palace.
Enter Merlin, followed by Urganda.
Urg.
Yet hear me, Merlin—

Mer.
Madam, I have heard—
And seldom anything much more absurd.
As I'm a conjuror, I can't conceive
How I so long could in your truth believe,
And blush to think I have been so betrayed,
And made a fool, for a fool ready made.
A dolt!—an idiot!—oh! I shall go wild.

Urg.
Great Merlin, jealous of a simple child!
How can you think so meanly of my taste?

Mer.
Upon the idle air your words you waste;
If you would prove my dark suspicions vain,
Send silly Cymon to his friends again!

Urg.
'Tis out of pity I retain him here—

Mer.
Your pity is to love akin too near.
With him or me make up your mind to part—

Urg.
Dear Merlin! you alone possess my heart!

Mer.
'Tis false! and mine, you've managed so to rend it,
No stitch that you can take in time will mend it!
But consolation in one thought alone is—
You shall smart under the lex talionis!
Of hopeless passion feel in turn the pain,
Love is dethroned, and here revenge shall reign.
Still shall my power your vile arts confound,
And Cymon's cure shall be Urganda's wound.

(Exit)
Urg.
“And Cymon's cure shall be Urganda's wound!”
What can he mean?

Enter Fatima.
Fat.
No good, ma'am, I'll be bound.

Urg.
Ah! then you heard his dire denunciation!

Fat.
It's put me all into a twitteration!

Urg.
Fear nothing.

Fat.
I can't help it—something frightful
He's sure to do—he's so uncommon spiteful!

Urg.
My power is great as his; and as to spite,
Match him at that I rather think I might.

Fat.
Match him! why don't you match him?—be his wife!
And make him miserable all his life!

Urg.
Alas! I am in love.

Fat.
In love, forsooth,
With a poor, pitiful, half-witted youth.
A gosling, who can't say “Bo” to a goose!
Of all your witchery is that the use?
Charms such as yours should make men fools, not cure 'em;
Into a fine fool's Paradise still lure 'em!
Why, you might turn the brains of a whole college
Ere you could give that lout a grain of knowledge.

(Cymon is heard whistling)
Urg.
Silence!—he comes!—his whistle sweet I hear.

Fat.
Ah! for his whistle you pay much too dear.

Enter Cymon.
Urg.
How sad he looks!

Fat.
Stupid, I say.

Cym.
Heigho!

Urg.
What is the matter, Cymon?

Cym.
I don't know.

Fat.
Are you not well?

Cym.
Oh!—yes—I'm very well.

Urg.
What do you sigh for, then?

Cym.
How can I tell?

Urg.
Is there a wish Urganda cannot grant?
What do you want?

Cym.
I don't know what I want—
Oh—yes—I do—I want—

Urg.
What, dearest? say,
And it is yours!

Cym.
I want to go away.

Urg.
Away from me! Alack! where would you go?

Cym.
I can't tell.

Urg.
For what reason?

Cym.
I don't know.

Fat.
Let him go anywhere—he's good for naught—
For he knows nothing, and he won't be taught.

Urg.
To me his sweet simplicity is charming!
If but his heart I could succeed in warming!
Come, all ye loves and graces, to my aid!
And through his eyes his slumbering soul invade.

(waves her wand)
Music—Entré of Loves and Graces, in the costume of the Eighteenth Century.
BALLET
(during which Cymon gradually falls asleep)
Urg.
Look, Fatima! I vow he's gone to sleep!

Fat.
You'd better turn him out among the sheep.

Urg.
Cupid, all arm'd and powder'd, moved him not!

Fat.
It was a waste of powder and of shot,
Leave him to sleep, nor useless trouble take
With one who never will be wide-awake.

Urg.
As a reproach, these flowers I'll on him lay,

(places her bouquet on his bosom)
Fat.
You'll find they're on him merely thrown away.

(Exeunt Urganda and Fatima)
Enter Merlin.
Mer.
My art shall now to Cymon's eyes display,
A damsel lovelier than dawning day—
Her charms shall wrest his mind from folly's sway.

Enter April.
Apr.
And make a fool of him another way.

Music—Merlin waves his wand, and changes to