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 assure 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 passive, and the Sin lies not at our Doors. While you are only passive, 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-tity----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 passive 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?

_Mart._ Confession was intended for the sake of the Penitent, not the Confessor: for to the Church all things are revealed.

_Isa._ Oh! then I had a Dream----I dreamt----I dreamt----oh! I can never tell you what I dreamt.

_Mart._ Horrible!

_Isa._ I dreamt--I dreamt--I dreamt----

_Mart._ Oh! the Strength of Sin!

_Isa._ I dreamt I was brought to bed of the Pope.

_Mart._ The very Happiness I meant, let me embrace you, let me kiss you, my dear Daughter: Henceforth you may defy Purgatory--the Mother of a Pope was never there.

_Isa._ But how can that be, when I am to be a Nun, Father?

_Mart._ Leave the Means to me. Learn only to be passive, the Church will work the rest. A Pope is always the Son of a Nun. Go you to your Chamber, wash your self, then pray devoutly, shut every Ray of Light out, leave open the Door and expect the Consequence.

_Isa._ Father, I shall be obedient--oh! the Villain!

_Mart._ Be passive and be happy.