Eumenides. Ah! I see his eyes almost open.
Cynthia. I command thee once again, stir not: I will stand behind him.
Panelion. What do I see? Endymion almost awake?
Eumenides. Endymion, Endymion, art thou deaf or dumb? Or hath this long sleep taken away thy memory? Ah! my sweet Endymion, seest thou not Eumenides, thy faithful friend, thy faithful Eumenides, who for thy sake hath been careless of his own content? Speak, Endymion! Endymion! Endymion!
Endymion. Endymion! I call to mind such a name.
Eumenides. Hast thou forgotten thyself, Endymion? Then do I not marvel thou rememberest not thy friend. I tell thee thou art Endymion, and I Eumenides. Behold also Cynthia, by whose favour thou art awaked, and by whose virtue thou shalt continue thy natural course.
Cynthia. Endymion! Speak, sweet Endymion! Knowest thou not Cynthia?
Endymion. Oh, heavens! whom do I behold? Fair Cynthia, divine Cynthia?
Cynthia. I am Cynthia, and thou Endymion.
Endymion. Endymion! What do I hear? What! a grey beard, hollow eyes, withered body, and decayed limbs, and all in one night?