Enter Merlin.
Mer. Hold, sir, and wait heaven's time; the attempt's too dangerous.
There's not a tree in that enchanted grove,
But's numbered out, and given by tale to fiends;
And under every leaf a spirit couched.
But by what method to dissolve these charms,
Is yet unknown to me.
Aur. Hadst thou been here,—for what can thwart thy skill?—
Nor Emmeline had been the boast of Oswald,
Nor I, forewarned, been wanting to her guard.