Alv. Since ignorance—­

Seb. O, palliate not my wound;
When you have argued all you can, ’tis incest. 
No, ’tis resolved:  I charge you plead no more;
I cannot live without Almeyda’s sight,
Nor can I see Almeyda, but I sin. 
Heaven has inspired me with a sacred thought,
To live alone to heaven, and die to her.

Dor. Mean you to turn an anchorite?

Seb. What else? 
The world was once too narrow for my mind,
But one poor little nook will serve me now,
To hide me from the rest of human kind. 
Africk has deserts wide enough to hold
Millions of monsters; and I am, sure, the greatest.

Alv. You may repent, and wish your crown too late.

Seb. O never, never; I am past a boy: 
A sceptre’s but a plaything, and a globe
A bigger bounding stone.  He, who can leave
Almeyda, may renounce the rest with ease.

Dor. O truly great! 
A soul fixed high, and capable of heaven. 
Old as he is, your uncle cardinal
Is not so far enamoured of a cloister,
But he will thank you for the crown you leave him.

Seb. To please him more, let him believe me dead,
That he may never dream I may return. 
Alonzo, I am now no more thy king,
But still thy friend; and by that holy name
Adjure thee, to perform my last request;—­
Make our conditions with yon captive king;
Secure me but my solitary cell;
’Tis all I ask him for a crown restored.

Dor. I will do more: 
But fear not Muley-Zeydan; his soft metal
Melts down with easy warmth, runs in the mould,
And needs no further forge. [Exit DORAX.

  Re-enter ALMEYDA led by MORAYMA, and followed by her
  Attendants.

Seb. See where she comes again!  By heaven, when I behold those beauteous eyes, Repentance lags, and sin comes hurrying on.

Alm. This is too cruel!

Seb. Speak’st thou of love, of fortune, or of death, Or double death? for we must part, Almeyda.

Alm. I speak of all,
For all things that belong to us are cruel;
But, what’s most cruel, we must love no more. 
O ’tis too much that I must never see you,
But not to love you is impossible. 
No, I must love you; heaven may bate me that,
And charge that sinful sympathy of souls
Upon our parents, when they loved too well.

Seb. Good heaven, thou speak’st my thoughts, and I speak thine!  Nay, then there’s incest in our very souls, For we were formed too like.

Alm. Too like indeed,
And yet not for each other. 
Sure when we part, (for I resolved it too,
Though you proposed it first,) however distant,
We shall be ever thinking of each other,
And the same moment for each other pray.

Seb. But if a wish should come athwart our prayers!