Mart. The Words even of a Spirit cannot tell you what I mean. Lead me to thy Bed, there shalt thou know my Meaning. There will we repeat those Pleasures which this Day I gave thee in another Shape—Tread softly, my dearest, sweetest! This Night shall make thee Mother to a Pope.
[Laroon leads him out.
SCENE XIII. Another Apartment.
Old Laroon, Jourdain, Isabel, a Priest, Young Laroon, Martin, and Beatrice.
Mart. Whither would you pull me?
Yo. Lar. Villain, I'll shew thee whither.
Mart. Ha!
Yo. Lar. Down on thy Knees, confess thy self the worst of Villains, or I'll drive this Dagger to thy Heart.
Priest. He needs not confess, our Ears are sufficient Witnesses against him.
Old Lar. Huzzah! Huzzah! The Priest is caught, the Priest is caught.