Doct. Methinks, I see a kind of glorious Cloud drawn up—and now, ‘tis gone again.
Char. Saw you no Fuger?
Doct. None.
Char. Then make a short Prayer to Alikin, the Spirit of the East; shake off all earthly Thoughts, and look again.
[He prays. Charmante puts the Glass into the Mouth
of the Telescope.
Doct.—Astonish’d, ravish’d with Delight, I see a Beauty young and Angel-like, leaning upon a Cloud.
Char. Seems she on a Bed? then she’s reposing, and you must not gaze.
Doct. Now a Cloud veils her from me.
Char. She saw you peeping then, and drew the Curtain of the Air between.
Doct. I am all Rapture, Sir, at this rare Vision—is’t possible, Sir, that I may ever hope the Conversation of so divine a Beauty?