Isa. What Reason can you have?
Mart. My Reasons may not be so ripe for your Ears at present. But, perhaps, better things are designed for you.
Isa. A Fidlestick! I tell you, Father, better things cannot be designed for me. I suppose, you have found out some old Fellow with twenty Livres a Year more in his Power; but I can assure you, if I marry not Laroon, I'll not marry any.
Mart. Perhaps you are not designed to marry any. Let me feel your Pulse——Extremely feverish.
Isa. You are enough to put any one in a Fever. I was to have been married to-morrow to a pretty Fellow, and now I must defer my Marriage, 'till you have consider'd whether I shall marry at all or no.
Mart. Have you any more Sins to confess!
Isa. Sins!—You have put all my Sins out of my Head, I think.
Mart. Benedicite—[crossing himself.] Daughter, you shall see me soon again, for great things are in Agitation; At present, I leave you to your Prayers.
SCENE V.
Isabel alone.