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SCENE, A grand Garden belonging to the Palace of Urganda.

B

Enter MERLIN and URGANDA.

URGANDA.

me.

UT hear me, Merlin, I beseech hear you, Mer. Hear you! I have heard you -for years have heard your vows, your proteftations-Have you not allur'd my affections by every female art; and when I thought that my unalterable paffion was to be rewarded

for

for its conftancy-what have you done?-why, like mere mortal woman, in the true fpirit of frailty, have given up me and my hopes-for what? a boy, an idiot.

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Urg. Ev'n this I can bear from Merlin.

Mer. You have injur'd me, and muft bear more.
Urg. I'll repair that injury.

Mer. Then fend back your fav'rite Cymon to his dif confolate friends.

Urg. How can you imagine that fuch a poor ignorant object as Cymon is can have any charms for me?

Mer. Ignorance, no more than profligacy, is excluded from female favour; the fuccefs of rakes and fools is a fufficient warning to us, could we be wife enough to take it.

Urg. You miftake me, Merlin; pity for Cymon's ftate of mind, and friendship for his father, have induc'd me to endeavour at his cure.

Mer. Falfe, prevaricating Urganda! Love was your inducement. Have not you ftolen the prince from his royal father, and detained him here by your power, while a hundred knights are in fearch after him? Does not every thing about you prove the confequence of your want of honour and faith to me? Were you not plac'd on this happy fpot of Arcadia to be the guardian of its peace and innocence? and have not the Arcadians liv'd for ages the envy of lefs happy, because lefs virtuous, people?

Urg. Let me befeech you, Merlin, spare my fhame. Mer. And are they not at laft, by your example, funk from the ftate of happiness and tranquillity to that of care, vice, and folly? Their once happy lives are now embitter'd with envy, paffion, vanity, felfishness, and inconftancy;-and who are they to curfe for this change? Urganda, the falfe, the loft Urganda.

Urg. Let us talk calmly of this matter.

Mer. I'll converse with you no more-because I will be no more deceiv'd: I cannot hate you, tho' I fhun you -Yet, in my mifery, I have this confolation, that the pangs of my jealoufy are at leaft equall'd by the torments of your fruitlefs paffion..

Still with and figh, and wish again;
Love is dethron'd, Revenge fhall reign!

Still fhall my pow'r your arts confound,
And Cymon's cure fhall be Urganda's wound.

[Exit Merlin. Urg. "And Cymon's cure fhall be Urganda's wound!” What mystery is couch'd in these words?-What can he mean?

Enter Fatima, looking after Merlin.

Fat. I'll tell you, Madam, when he is out of hearing -He means mischief, and terrible mischief too; no lefs, believe, than ravishing you, and cutting my tongue out -I wish we were out of his clutches.

Urg. Don't fear, Fatima.

Fat. I can't help it, he has great power, and is mis. chievously angry.

Urg. Here is your protection, (howing her wand.) My power is at laft equal to his. (Mufes.)" And Cymon's cure fhall be Urganda's wound!"

66

Fat. Don't trouble your head with these odd ends of verfes, which were fpoken in a paffion; or, perhaps, for the rhyme's fake-Think a little to clear us from this old mifchief-making conjuror-What will you do, madam?

Urg. What can I do, Fatima?

Fat. You might very cafily fettle matters with him, if you cou'd as eafily fettle them with yourself.

Urg. Tell me how?

Fat. Marry Merlin, and fend away the young fellow. (Urganda Shakes her head.) I thought fowe are all alike; and that folly of ours of preferring two-and-twenty to two-and-forty, runs thro' the whole sex of us— -But before matters grow worse, give me leave to reafon a little with you, madam.

Urg. Hold your tongue, Fatima-my paffion is too ferious to be jefted with.

Fat. Far gone indeed, Madam—and yonder goes the precious object of it. [Looking out. Urg. He feems melancholy: what's the matter with him?

Fat. He's a fool, or he might make himself very merry among us- -I'll leave you to make the most of him. Urg. Stay, Fatima- and help me to divert him.

I

Fat.

Fat. A fad time, when a lady must call in help to divert her gallant?-but I'm at your ferviceEnter Cymon, melancholy.

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[Sighing.

[Looks foolishly.

Fat. Do you fee it in his eyes, now, Madam?

Urg. Prithee, be quiet-What is it you want? tell me, Cymon-Tell me your wishes, and you fhall have

em.

Cym. Shall I?

Urg. Yes, indeed, Cymon.

Fat. Now for it.

Cym. I wish-heigho!

Ürg. These fighs must mean fomething.

Fat. I wish you joy then; find it out, Madam.

[Afide to Fatima.

Urg. What do you figh for?

Cym. I want

[Sight.

Urg. What, what, my fweet creature?

[Eagerly.

Cym. To go away.

Fat. O la!-the meaning's out.

Urg. What, would you leave me then?

Cym. Yes.

Urg. Why would you leave me?

Cym. I don't know.

Urg. Where would you go?

Cym. Any where.

Urg. Had you rather go any where than stay with

me?

Cym. I had rather go into the fields than stay with any body.

Ürg. But is not this garden pleasanter than the fields, my palace than cottages, and my company more agree. able to you than the shepherds?

Cym. Why, how can I tell till I try; you won't let me choose.

VOL. III.

Hh

AIR.

A I R.

You gave me laft week a young linnet,
Shut up in a fine golden cage;

Yet how fad the poor thing was within it,
Oh how did it flutter and rage!
Then he mop'd and he pin'd
That his wings were confin'd,
Till I open'd the door of his den:
Then fo merry was he,

And because he was free,
He came to his cage back again.

And fo fhould I too, if you would let me go.
Urg. And would you return to me again?

Cym. Yes I would I have nowhere elfe to go. Fat. Let him have his humour-when he is not confin'd, and is feemingly difregarded, you may have him, and mould him as you please-'Tis a receipt for the whole fex.

Urg. I'll follow your adviceWell, Cymon, you hall go wherever you pleafe, and for as long as you please.

Cym. O la, and I'll bring you a bird's neft, and fome cowllips-and fhall I let my linnet out too?

Fat. O, ay, pretty creatures; pray, let 'em go toge

ther.

Urg. And take this, Cymon; wear it for my fake, and don't forget me. (Gives Cymon a nofegay.) Tho' it won't give paffion, it will increase it if he should think kindly of me, and absence may befriend me. (Afide.) Go, Cymon, take your companion, and be happier than I can make you.

Cym. Then I'm out of my cage, and fhall mope no longer. [Overjoyed. Urg. His tranfports distract me!-I must retire to conceal my uneafinefs. [Retires. Fat. And I'll open the gate to the prifoners. [Exit. Cym. And I'll fetch my bird, and we'll fly away toge

ther.

A I R.
Oh liberty, liberty!

Dear happy liberty;

No

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