Heaven has, in pity of me, now pour'd balm
Upon my bleeding sufferings.
Marg. What, my young warrior!
Adeline. A weak one, madam;—and a woman too.
Your pardon, madam, if, to seek a husband,—
Happy has been my search—more than the cause,
Altho' my heart is warm in't—brought me hither.
Gondi. Your guard approaches, madam, and the villagers,
Enter Knights and Soldiers.
Anxious, in zeal, to see their royal mistress,