[Exeunt Lutin and Fairies.
Dar. He comes! At last I shall behold my love!
[Enter Ethais from bower.
(Tenderly.) How fares Sir Ethais?
Eth.Why grievously.
I am no leech, and can not dress my wound,
I’m sick and faint from pain and loss of blood.
Dar. (aside). How shall I work my end? I have a plan!
Oh, powers of impudence defend me now!
(Aloud). Sir Ethais, if Phyllon’s words be true,