_Mart._ Oh prodigious! That such a Saint shou'd prophesy Truth through
those Lips, whence the Devil has been thundring so many Lyes.
_Old Lar._ What Truth, Sir, what Truth?
_Isa._ Oh! Sir, the Blessing you mentioned, has been promised me! I am
to give a Pope to the World.
_Old Lar._ Are you so, Madam? He shall have no Blood of mine in him, I'm
resolv'd I'll never ask Blessings of a Grandson. Come away, Jack, come a
way, I say; let us leave the Devil's Son, and the Pope's Mother
together.
_Yo. Lar._ Remember, my _Isabel_, I only live in the Hopes of seeing you
mine.
SCENE IX.
Martin, Isabel.
_Mart._ It were better thou shouldst howl in Purgatory ten thousand
Years, than ever see that Day. Oh! that we had but an Inquisition in
_France_. Burning four or five hundred such Fellows in a Morning would
be the best way of deterring others. Religion loves to warm it self at
the Fire of a Heretick.
_Isa._ Fire is as necessary to keep our Minds warm as our Bodies,
Father; and burning a Heretick is really a very great Service done to
himself; a Faggot is a Purge for a sick Soul, and a Heretick is obliged
to the Priest who applies it.
_Mart._ There spoke the Spirit of Zeal: Let me embrace thee, my little
Saint; for such thou will be, let me kiss thee with the pure Affection
of a Confessor----Ha! there is something Divine in these Lips, let me
taste them again; are you sure you have drank no Holy Water this
Morning?
_Isa._ None, upon my Word.
_Mart._ Let me smell a third time. There. _Numero Deus impare gaudet._
Depend on it, Child, very great Happiness will attend you. But be sure
to observe my Directions in every thing.
_Isa._ I shall, Father. I did as you commanded me this Morning.
_Mart._ Well, and did you perceive any great Alterations in your self?
Any extraordinary Emotion?
_Isa._ I cannot say I did.
_Mart._ Hum! Spirits have their own Times of Operation; which must be
diligently watch'd for. Perhaps your good Genius was at that Time
otherwise employ'd. Repeat the Ceremony often, and my Life on the
Success. Let me see, about an Hour hence will be a very good Season. Be
ready to receive him, and I firmly believe, the Spirit will come to you.
_Isa._ Oh lud! Father, I shall be frightned out of my Wits at the Sight
of a Spirit.
_Mart._ You will see nothing frightful, take my Word for it.
_Isa._ I hope he won't appear in any horrible Shape.
_Mart._ Hum--That is to be averted by _Ave Maries_. As this is a
friendly Spirit, I dare say, you may prevail on him to take what Shape
you please. Perhaps your Father, or if you cannot prevail for a Lay-man,
I dare swear, you may at least, pray him into the Shape of your
Confessor: and tho' I must suffer Pain on that Account, I am ready to
undergo it for your Service.
_Isa._ I am infinitely obliged to my dear Father, I'll prepare my self
for this vast Happiness, nothing shall be wanting on my Parr, I assure
you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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