Isabel. Do not let your scrupulous honor overcome all your future prospects—Notwithstanding these letters will strongly recommend you, yet it will be with her own consent only she will yield to the recommendation.
Marquis. But when do you expect the letters?
Isabel. Every instant—my servants are now gone to the Post office.
Marquis. I'll fly and see if they are returned.
Isabel. Do; for as soon as the letters are arrived, I would not have you lose a moment but away, and know your fate at once—yet if she will but see you I think with such a person as your's, there can be little to fear.
Marquis. But they tell me she is so austere since this rigid vow—so awful—she will petrify me with a look.
Isabel. Pshaw—away, and see if the letters are come.
Marquis. I will, and if they are, and I gain admittance, I'm resolved I will obtain you a husband within a week, in return, my dear sister, for your kindness to me.[ Exit Marquis.
Enter INIS.
Isabel. Well, Inis—I am impatient to hear—What success?