Nisida sings.
O nightingale, whose sweet exulting strain
Tells of thy triumphs to the listening grove,
Thou fill'st my heart with envy and with pain!—
But no, but no, for if thou sing'st of love
Jealousy's pangs and sorrow's tears remain!
Enter Chrysanthus, Claudius, and Escarpin.
Claudius, to Chrysanthus.
Does not the beauty of this wood,
This tranquil wood, delight thee?
Chrysanthus.
Yes:
Here nature's lord doth dower and bless
The world in most indulgent mood.
Who could believe this greenwood here
For the first time has blessed mine eyes?
Claudius.
It is the second Paradise,
Of deities the verdant sphere.
Chrysanthus.
'T is more, this green and grassy glade
Whither our careless steps have strolled,
For here three objects we behold
Equally fair by distance made.
Of these that chain our willing feet,
There yonder where the path is leading,
One is a lady calmly reading,
One is a lady singing sweet,
And one whose rapt though idle air
Gives us to understand this truth—
A woman blessed with charms and youth,
Does quite enough in being fair.
Escarpin.
You are quite right in that, I 've seen
Beauties enough of that sort too.
Claudius.
If of the three here given to view,
The choice were thine to choose between,
Which of them best would suit thy taste?
Which wouldst thou make thy choice of, say?