Phi.  That shall not serve his turn—­go
Tell him I’ll get his Pardon of the King,
And set him free from other fears of Justice,
But those which I intend to execute. 
If he be brave, he’ll not refuse this offer;
If not, I’ll do as he has done by me,
And meet his hated Soul by Treachery. [Cle_. goes out_. 
—­And then I’ve nothing more to do but die. 
—­Ah, how agreeable are the thoughts of Death! 
How kindly do they entertain my Soul,
And tell it pretty tales of Satisfaction in the other world,
That I shall dwell for ever with Erminia?—­but stay,
That sacred Spirit yet is unreveng’d,
—­I’ll send that Traitor’s Soul to eternal Night,
Then mine shall take its so desired Flight. [Going out.

    Enter Erminia, calls him.

Er.  Return, Philander, whither wouldst thou fly?

Phi.  What Voice is that? [Turns, sees her, and is frighted.

Er.  ’Tis I, my Prince, ’tis I.

Phi.  Thou—­Gods—­what art thou—­in that lovely shape?

Er.  A Soul that from Elysium made escape,
   [As she comes towards him, he goes back in great amaze. 
To visit thee; why dost thou steal away? 
I’ll not approach thee nearer than I may.

Phi.  Why do I shake—­it is Erminia’s form—­
And can that Beauty ought that’s ill adorn? 
—­In every part Erminia does appear,
And sure no Devil can inhabit there.

    [He comes on and kneels, one knocks, she steals back in at a door.

Alcan. [Within.] My Lord the Prince!

Phi.  Ha—­Oh Gods, I charge thee not to vanish yet!  I charge thee by those Powers thou dost obey, Not to deprive me of thy blessed sight.

Er.  I will revisit thee. [Ex.

Enter Alcander.

Phi.  I’m not content with that.  —­Stay, stay, my dear Erminia.

Alcan.  What mean you, Sir?
            [He rises and looks still afrighted.

Phi. Alcander, look, look, how she glides away, Dost thou not see’t?

Alcan.  Nothing, Sir, not I.

Phi.  No, now she’s gone again.

Alcan.  You are disorder’d, pray sit down a while.

Phi.  No, not at all, Alcander; I’m my self,
I was not in a Dream, nor in a Passion
When she appear’d, her Face a little pale,
But else my own Erminia, she her self,
I mean a thing as like, nay, it spoke too,
And I undaunted answer’d it again;
But when you knockt it vanisht.

Alcan.  ’Twas this Aminta would persuade me to,
And, faith, I laught at her,
And wish I might have leave to do so now.

Phi.  You do displease me with your Unbelief.

Alcan.  Why, Sir, do you think there can indeed be Ghosts?