[Exit Merlin, giving a Vial to Philidel.
Phil. We must work, we must haste;
Noon-tide hour is almost past.
Sprites, that glimmer in the sun,
Into shades already run;
Osmond will be here, anon.
Enter Emmeline and Matilda, at the far end of the Wood.
Arth. O yonder, yonder she's already found;
My soul directs my sight, and flies before it.—