Ah! if love to grief is leading
Of what use to me is reading
In the Remedies of Love? [Exit.

DARIA (to herself).
In these bowers by trees o'ergrown,
Here contented I remain,
All companionship is vain,
Save my own sweet thoughts alone:--

CLAUDIUS.
Dear Chrysanthus, your election
Was to me both loss and gain,
Gave me pleasure, gave me pain:--
It seemed plain to my affection
(Being in love) your choice should fall
On the maid of pensive look,
Not on her who read the book:
But your praise made up for all.
And since each has equal force,
My complaint and gratulation,
Whilst with trembling expectation
I pursue my own love's course,
Try your fortune too, till we
Meet again. [Exit.

CHRYSANTHUS.
Confused I stay,
Without power to go away,
Spirit-bound, my feet not free.