Now see to whose embraces thou wert falling!
Behold the maiden modesty of Grimbald!
The grossest, earthiest, ugliest fiend in hell.
Arth. Horror seizes me,
To think what headlong ruin I have tempted.
Phil. Haste to thy work; a noble stroke or two
Ends all the charms, and disenchants the grove.
I'll hold thy mistress bound.
Arth. Then here's for earnest.
[Strikes twice or thrice, and the Tree falls, or sinks: A Peal of Thunder immediately follows, with dreadful Howlings.