Almanz. Speak, holy shade; thou parent-form, speak on! [Bowing.
Instruct thy mortal-elemented son;
For here I wander, to myself unknown. 
But O, thou better part of heavenly air,
Teach me, kind spirit, since I’m still thy care,
My parents’ names: 
If I have yet a father, let me know
To whose old age my humble youth must bow,
And pay its duty, if he mortal be,
Or adoration, if a mind, like thee.

Ghost. Then, what I may, I’ll tell.—­
From ancient blood thy father’s lineage springs,
Thy mother’s thou deriv’st from stems of kings. 
A Christian born, and born again that day,
When sacred water washed thy sins away. 
Yet, bred in errors, thou dost misemploy
That strength heaven gave thee, and its flock destroy.

Almanz. By reason, man a godhead may discern, But how he should be worshipped cannot learn.

Ghost. Heaven does not now thy ignorance reprove,
But warns thee from known crimes of lawless love. 
That crime thou knowest, and, knowing, dost not shun,
Shall an unknown and greater crime pull on: 
But if, thus warned, thou leav’st this cursed place,
Then shalt thou know the author of thy race. 
Once more I’ll see thee; then my charge is done. 
Far hence, upon the mountains of the moon,
Is my abode; where heaven and nature smile,
And strew with flowers the secret bed of Nile. 
Blessed souls are there refined, and made more bright,
And, in the shades of heaven, prepared for light. [Exit Ghost.

Almanz. O heaven, how dark a riddle’s thy decree,
Which bounds our wills, yet seems to leave them free! 
Since thy fore-knowledge cannot be in vain,
Our choice must be what thou didst first ordain. 
Thus, like a captive in an isle confined,
Man walks at large, a prisoner of the mind: 
Wills all his crimes, while heaven the indictment draws,
And, pleading guilty, justifies the laws. 
Let fate be fate; the lover and the brave
Are ranked, at least, above the vulgar slave. 
Love makes me willing to my death to run;
And courage scorns the death it cannot shun.

  Enter ALMAHIDE with a taper.

Almah. My light will sure discover those who talk.—­ Who dares to interrupt my private walk?

Almanz. He, who dares love, and for that love must die, And, knowing this, dares yet love on, am I.

Almah. That love which you can hope, and I can pay,
May be received and given in open day: 
My praise and my esteem you had before;
And you have bound yourself to ask no more.

Almanz. Yes, I have bound myself; but will you take The forfeit of that bond, which force did make?

Almah. You know you are from recompence debarred; But purest love can live without reward.

Almanz. Pure love had need be to itself a feast; For, like pure elements, ’twill nourish least.