Grimbald's Spirits. Trust me, I am no malicious fiend.
Philidel's Spirits. Hither this way, &c.
Con. Some wicked phantom, foe to human kind,
Misguides our steps.
Alba. I'll follow him no further.
Grimb. By hell, she sings them back, in my despite.
I had a voice in heaven, ere sulphurous steams
Had damped it to a hoarseness; but I'll try.
He sings. Let not a moon-born elf mislead ye
From your prey, and from your glory.