_Jourd._ I wou'd not, Mr. _Laroon_, have my Conscience accuse me of using you ill: I would not have preferred any earthly Match to your Son, but if Heaven requires her--

_Old Lar._ I shall run mad.

_Jourd._ I hope my Daughter has Grace enough to make an Atonement for her Father's Sins.

_Old Lar._ And so, you wou'd atone for all your former Rogueries, by a greater, by perverting the Design of Nature! Was this Girl intended for praying! Hearkee, old Gentleman, let the young Couple together, and they'll sacrifice their first Fruits to the Church.

_Jourd._ It is impossible.

_Old Lar._ Well, Sir, then I shall attempt to persuade you no longer; so, Sir, I desire you would fetch your Sword.

SCENE III.

_Young_ Laroon _in a Friar's Habit_, _Old_ Laroon, Jourdain.

_Y. Lar._ Let Peace be in this House----Where is the Sinner _Jourdain_?

_Jourd._ Here is the miserable Wretch.

_Old Lar._ Death and the Devil, another Priest.

_Y. Lar._ Then know I am thy Friend, and am come to save thee from Destruction.

_Old Lar._ That's likely enough.

_Y. Lar._ St. _Francis_ the Patron of our Order hath sent me on this Journey, to caution thee, that thou may not suffer thy sinful Daughter to profane the holy Veil. Such was it seems thy Purpose; but the Perdition that would have attended it I dread to think on. Rejoice therefore, and prostrate thy self at the Shrine of a Saint, who has not only sent thee this Caution, but does himself intercede for all thy Sins.

_Old Lar._ Agad! and St. _Francis_ is a very honest Fellow, and thou art the first Priest that ever I lik'd in my whole Life.

_Jourd._ St. _Francis_ honours me too much. I shall try to deserve the Favour of that Saint. But wherefore is my Daughter denied the holy Veil?

_Y. Lar._ Your Daughter, I am concerned to say it, is now with Child by a young Gentleman, one Mr. _Laroon_.

_Jourd._ Oh Heavens!

_Old Lar._ What's that you say, Sir, because I thought I heard somewhat of a d.a.m.n'd Lye come out of your Mouth.

_Y. Lar._ Sir, it is St. _Francis_ speaks within me, and he cannot be mistaken.

_Old Lar._ I can tell you, Sir, if that young Gentleman had heard you, he would certainly have thrashed St. _Francis_ out of you.

_Y. Lar._ Sir, you have nothing to do now, but to prepare the Match with the utmost Expedition.

_Old Lar._ This St. _Francis_ must lye, or the Boy would not be so eager upon the Affair: No one is ever eager to sign Articles when they have entered the Town.----Well, Master _Jourdain_, if the young Dog has tripped up your Daughter's Heels in an unlawful way, as St. _Francis_ says, why, he shall make her amends and--and do it in a lawful one. So I'll go see for my Son, while you go and comfort the poor Chicken that is pining for fear of a Nunnery.----Odsheart, it would be very hard indeed, when a Girl has once had her Belly full, that she must fast all her Life afterwards.

_Y. Lar._ I have deliver'd my Commission and shall now return to my Convent----Farewel, and return Thanks to St. _Francis_.

_Jourd._ Oh! St. _Francis_! St. _Francis_! What a merciful Saint art thou!

SCENE IV. _Another Apartment._

Martin, Isabel.

_Mart._ Indeed, Child, there are Pleasures in a retired Life, which you are entirely ignorant of. Nay, there are Indulgencies granted to People in that State, which would be sinful out of it. And, perhaps, the same Liberties are permitted them with one Person, which are deny'd them with another. Come, put on a chearful Countenance, you don't know what you are design'd for.

_Isa._ No, but I know what I am not design'd for.

_Mart._ Let me feel your Pulse.

_Isa._ You are a Physician as well as a Priest, I suppose.

_Mart._ Have you never any odd Dreams?

_Isa._ No.

_Mart._ Do you never find any strange Emotions?

_Isa._ No. None but what I believe are very natural.

_Mart._ Strange that!----Did you never see me in your Sleep?

_Isa._ I never dream of a Priest, I a.s.sure you.

_Mart._ Nay, nay; be candid, confess, perhaps, there may be nothing so sinful in it. We cannot help what we are design'd for. We are only pa.s.sive, and the Sin lies not at our Doors. While you are only pa.s.sive, I'll answer for your Sins.

_Isa._ What do you mean?

_Mart._ That you must not yet know--Great things are design'd for you, very great things are designed for you.

_Isa._ (Hum! I begin to guess what is design'd for me.) [_Aside._

_Mart._ Those Eyes have a Fire in them that scarce seems mortal. Come hither----give me a Kiss----ha! there is a Sweetness in that Breath like what I've read of _Ambrosia_. That Bosom heaves like those of Priestesses of old, when big with Inspiration.

_Isa._ (Haity-t.i.ty----Are you thereabouts good Father?) [_Aside._

_Mart._ Let me embrace thee, my dear Daughter, let me give thee Joy of such Promotion, such Happiness as will attend you.

_Isa._ I'll try this reverend Gentleman his own way. [_Aside._

_Mart._ You must resign your self up to my Will, you must be pa.s.sive in all things.

_Isa._ Oh! let me thus beg Pardon, on my Knees, for an Offence which Modesty occasioned.

_Mart._ Ha! speak.

_Isa._ Oh! I see it is in vain to hide my Secrets from you. What need have I to confess what you already know?