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+Project Gutenberg's The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732), by Henry  Fielding
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732)
+
+Author: Henry  Fielding
+
+Release Date: November 4, 2011 [EBook #37923]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OLD DEBAUCHEES. A COMEDY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Delphine Lettau, Joseph Cooper, David E. Brown
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  THE
+  _Old DEBAUCHEES._
+
+  A
+  COMEDY.
+
+  As it is Acted at the THEATRE-ROYAL
+  in DRURY-LANE.
+
+  By His MAJESTY's Servants.
+
+  By the Author of the MODERN HUSBAND.
+
+
+
+
+  _LONDON_:
+
+  Printed for J. W. And Sold by J. ROBERTS in
+
+  _Warwick-Lane_, MDCCXXXII.
+
+  [Price One Shilling.]
+
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE.
+
+Spoken by Mr. _William Mills_.
+
+
+_I Wish, with all my Heart, the Stage and Town
+Would both agree to cry all Prologues down;
+That we, no more oblig'd to say or sing,
+Might drop this useless necessary Thing:
+No more with aukward Strut, before the Curtain,
+Chaunt out some Rhimes--there's neither good nor hurt in._
+
+  _What is this Stuff the Poets make us deal in,
+But some old worn-out Jokes of their Retailing:
+From Sages of our own, or former Times,
+Transvers'd from Prose, perhaps transpros'd from Rhimes._
+
+  _How long the Tragick Muse her Station kept,             }
+How Guilt was humbl'd, and how Tyrants wept,               }
+Forgetting still how often Hearers slept._                 }
+
+  _Perhaps, for Change, you, now and then, by Fits,
+Are told that Criticks are the Bane of Wits;
+How they turn Vampyres, being dead and damn'd,
+And with the Blood of living Bards are cramm'd:
+That Poets thus tormented die, and then
+The Devil gets in them, and they suck agen._
+
+  _Thus modern Bards, like Bays, their Prologues frame,    }
+For this, and that, and every Play the same,               }
+Which you, most justly, neither praise nor blame._         }
+
+  _As something must be spoke, no matter what;
+No Friends are now by Prologues lost or got;
+By such Harangues we raise nor Spleen, nor Pity--
+Thus ends this idle, but important Ditty._
+
+
+
+
+Dramatis Personæ.
+
+
+MEN.
+
+_Old Laroon._          Mr. _Shepard_.
+_Young Laroon._        Mr. _Mills_, Junior.
+_Father Martin._       Mr. _Cibber_, Junior.
+_Old Jourdain._        Mr. _Roberts_.
+
+
+WOMEN.
+
+_Isabel._              Miss _Raftor_.
+_Beatrice._            Miss _Williams_.
+
+
+SCENE _THOULON_.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+_Old DEBAUCHEES._
+
+
+
+
+ACT I. SCENE I.
+
+SCENE, _Mr._ Jourdain'_s_.
+
+Isabel, Beatrice.
+
+  ISABEL.
+
+A Nunnery! Ha, ha, ha! And is it possible, my dear _Beatrice_, you can
+intend to sacrifice your Youth and Beauty, to go out of the World as
+soon as you come into it!
+
+_Bea._ No one, my dear _Isabel_, can sacrifice too much or too soon to
+Heaven.
+
+_Isa._ Pshaw! Heaven regards Hearts and not Faces, and an old Woman will
+be as acceptable a Sacrifice as a young one.
+
+_Bea._ It is possible you may come to a better Understanding, and value
+the World as little as I do.
+
+_Isa._ As you say, it is possible when I can enjoy it no longer, I may;
+nay, I do not care if I promise you when I grow old and ugly, I'll come
+and keep you Company: But this I am positive, till the World is weary of
+me, I never shall be weary of the World.
+
+_Bea._ What can a Woman of Sense see in it worth her valuing?
+
+_Isa._ Oh! ten thousand pretty things! Equipage, Cards, Musick, Plays,
+Balls, Flattery, Visits, and that prettiest thing of all pretty things,
+a pretty Fellow----I rather wonder what Charms a Woman of any Spirit can
+fancy in a Nunnery, in watching, working, praying, and sometimes, I am
+afraid, wishing for other Company than that of an old fusty Friar--Oh!
+'tis a delightful State, when every Man one sees, instead of tempting us
+to Sin, is to rebuke us for them.
+
+_Bea._ Such Sentiments as these would indeed make you very uneasy--but
+believe me, Child, you would soon bring yourself to hate Mankind;
+fasting and praying are the best Cures in the World for these violent
+Passions.
+
+_Isa._ On my Conscience I should want neither; if the continual Sight of
+a Set of dirty Priests would not bring me to abhor Mankind, I dare swear
+nothing could.
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, Isabel, Beatrice.
+
+_Old Lar._ Good-morrow, my little Wag-tail--my Grashopper, my Butterfly.
+Odso! you little Baggage, you look as full of----as full of Love and
+Sport and Wantonness----I wish I was a young Fellow again----Oh! that I
+was but five and twenty for thy sake. Where's my Boy? What, has not he
+been with you, has not he serenaded you?--Odsheart--I never let his
+Mother sleep for a Month before I married her.
+
+_Isa._ Indeed!
+
+_Old Lar._ No Madam, nor for a Month afterwards neither. The young
+Fellows of this Age are nothing, mere Butterflies, to those of
+ours----Odsheart I remember the Time, when I could have taken a Hop,
+Step, and Jump over the Steeple of _Notre Dame_.
+
+_Bea._ I fancy the Sparks of your Age had Wings, Sir.
+
+_Old Lar._ Wings, you little Baggage, no--but they had--they had Limbs,
+like Elephants, and as strong they were as _Sampson_, and as swift
+as----Why, I have my self run down a Stag in a fair Chace, and eat him
+afterwards for my Dinner. But come, where is my old Neighbour, my old
+Friend, my old _Jourdain_?
+
+_Isa._ At his Devotions, I suppose, this is the Hour he generally
+employs in them.
+
+_Old Lar._ This Hour! ay, all Hours. I dare swear he spends more Time in
+them, than all the Priests in _Toulon_. Well, give him his due, he was
+wicked as long as he could be so, and when he could sin no longer, why
+he began to repent that he had sinned at all. Oh! there is nothing so
+devout as an old Whoremaster.
+
+_Bea._ I fancy then it will be shortly Time for you to think of it, Sir!
+
+_Old Lar._ Ay, Madam, about some thirty or forty Years hence it
+may----Odsheart! I am but in the prime of my Years yet: And if it was
+not for a saucy young Rascal who looks me in the Face and calls me
+Father, might make a very good Figure among the Beaus. But tho' I am not
+so young in Years, I am in Constitution as any of them; and I don't
+question but to live to see a Son and a great Grandson both born on the
+same Day.
+
+_Isa._ You will excuse this Lady, Mr. _Laroon_, who is going to retire
+so much earlier--
+
+_Old Lar._ Retire!----Then it is with a young Fellow, I hope.
+
+_Isa._ Into a Cloister, I assure you.
+
+_Old Lar._ A Cloister!--Why, Madam, if you have a mind to hang your self
+at the Year's End; would it not be better to spend your Time in
+Matrimony than in a Nunnery? Don't let a Set of rascally Priests put
+strange Notions in your Head. Take my Word for it, and I am a very
+honest Fellow, there are no Raptures worth a Louse, but those in the
+Arms of a brisk young Cavalier. Of all the Actions of my Youth, there
+are none I reflect on with so much Pleasure as having burnt half a Dozen
+Nunneries, and delivered several hundred Virgins out of Captivity.
+
+_Bea._ Oh! Villany! unheard of Villany!
+
+_Isa._ Unheard of till this Moment I dare swear.
+
+_Old Lar._ Out of which Number there are at present nine Countesses,
+three Dutchesses, and a Queen, who owe their Liberty and their Promotion
+to this Arm.
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Isabel, Beatrice.
+
+_Old Lar._ You are a fine Spark truly to let your Father visit your
+Mistress before you--'Sdeath! I believe you are no Son of mine. Where
+have you been, Sir? What have you been doing, Sir, hey?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Sir, I have been at my Devotions.
+
+_Old Lar._ At your Devotions! nay, then you are no Son of mine, that's
+certain. Is not this the Shrine you are to offer up at, Sirrah! Is not
+here the Altar you are to officiate at?--Sirrah! you have no Blood of
+mine in you. I believe you are the Bastard of some travelling _English_
+Alderman, and must have come into the World with a Custard in your
+Mouth.
+
+_Y. Lar._ I hope, Madam, you will allow my Excuse, tho' the old
+Gentleman here will not.
+
+_Old Lar._ Old Gentleman! very fine! Sirrah! I'll convince you I am a
+young Gentleman; I'll marry to-night, and make you a Brother before you
+are a Father; I'll teach you to thrust him out of the World that thrust
+you into it----Madam, have no more to say to the ungracious Dog.
+
+_Y. Lar._ That will be a sure way to quit all Obligations between us;
+for the Happiness I propose in this Lady, is the chief Reason why I
+should thank you for bringing me into the World.
+
+_Old Lar._ What's that you say, Sir; say that again, Sir.
+
+_Y. Lar._ I was only thanking you, Sir, for desiring this Lady to take
+from me all I esteem on Earth.
+
+_Old Lar._ Well enough that! I begin to think him my own again. I have
+made that very Speech to half the Women in _Paris_.
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+_To them_ Martin.
+
+_Mart._ Peace be with you all, Good People.
+
+_Old Lar._ Peace cannot stay long in any Place where a Priest comes.
+                                                               [_Aside._
+
+_Mart._ Daughter, I am ready to receive your Confession--
+
+_Old Lar._ Ay, ay, she has a fine Parcel of sinful Thoughts to answer
+for, I warrant her.
+
+_Mart._ Mr. _Laroon_, you are too much inclined to Slander, I must
+reprove you for it. My Daughter's Thoughts are as pure as a Saint's.
+
+_Old Lar._ As any Saint's in Christendom within a Day of Matrimony.
+
+_Mart._ Within a Day of Matrimony; it is too quick; I have not yet had
+sufficient Time to prepare her Mind for that solemn Sacrament.
+
+_Old Lar._ Prepare her Mind for a young Fellow; prepare your Mind for a
+Bishoprick.
+
+_Mart._ Sir, there are Ceremonies requisite, I shall be as expeditious
+as possible, but the Church has Rules.
+
+_Old Lar._ Sir, you may be as expeditious or as slow as you please, but
+I will not have my Boy disappointed of his Happiness one Day, for all
+the Rules in _Europe_.
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+Martin, Isabel.
+
+_Mart._ I shall bring this Haughtiness to a Penance, you may not like.
+Well, my dear Daughter, I hope your Account is not long. You have not
+many Articles since our last Reckoning.
+
+_Isa._ I wish you do not think it so, Father. First, telling nine Lyes
+at the Opera the other Night to Mr. _Laroon_; yesterday talk'd during
+the whole Mass to a young Cavalier, [_he groans._] Nay, if you groan
+already, I shall make you groan more before I have done; last Night
+cheated at Cards, scandalized three of my Acquaintance, went to Bed
+without saying my Prayers, and dreamt of Mr. _Laroon_.
+
+_Mart._ Oh!--Tell me the Particulars of that Dream.
+
+_Isa._ Nay, Father, that I must be excus'd.
+
+_Mart._ Modesty at Confession is as unseasonable as in Bed, and your
+Mind should appear as naked to your Confessor, as your Person to your
+Husband.
+
+_Isa._ I thought he embraced me with the utmost Tenderness.
+
+_Mart._ But were you pleased therewith?
+
+_Isa._ You know, Father, a Lye now would be the greatest of Sins. I was
+not displeased I assure you. But I have often heard you say, there is no
+Sin in Love.
+
+_Mart._ No, in Love it self there is not: Love is not _Malum in se_. Nor
+in the Excess is there sometimes any: but then it must be rightly
+placed, must be directed to a proper Object. The Love a Daughter bears
+her Confessor is no doubt not only innocent, but extremely laudable.
+
+_Isa._ Yes, but that--that is another sort of Love, you know.
+
+_Mart._ You are deceived, there is but one sort of Love which is
+justifiable, or, indeed, desirable.
+
+_Isa._ I hope my Love for _Laroon_ is that.
+
+_Mart._ That I know not, I wish it may; however, I have some Dispute as
+yet remaining with me concerning it; 'till that be satisfied, it will be
+improper for you to proceed any farther in the Affair. All the Penance,
+therefore, I shall enjoin you on this Confession, is to defer your
+Marriage one Week; by which time I shall have resolved within my self
+whether you shall marry him at all.
+
+_Isa._ Not marry him at all? Sure, Father, you are not in earnest.
+
+_Mart._ I never jest on these Occasions.
+
+_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_.
+
+_Isa._ Sure never poor Maid had more need of Prayers: but you have left
+me no great Stomach to them. Great things are in Agitation! What can he
+mean? It must be so----Some old liquorish Rogue with a Title, or a
+larger Estate hath a mind to supplant my dear _Laroon_.
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+_Young_ Laroon, Isabel.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ My _Isabel_, my Sweet!--how painfully do I count each tedious
+Hour, till I can call you mine?
+
+_Isa._ Indeed, you are like to count many more tedious Hours than you
+imagine.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Ha! What means my Love?
+
+_Isa._ I would not have your Wishes too impatient, that's all; but if
+you will wait a Week, you shall know whether I intend to marry you or
+not.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ And is this possible? Can Words like these fall from
+_Isabel_'s sweet Lips; can she be false, inconstant, perjured?
+
+_Isa._ Oh! do not discharge such a Volley of terrible Names upon me
+before you are certain I deserve them; doubt only whether I can be
+obedient to my Confessor, and guess the rest.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Can he have enjoined you to be perjured, by Heaven it would
+be sinful to obey him.
+
+_Isa._ Be satisfied, if I prevail with my self to obey him in this
+Week's Delay, I will carry my Obedience no farther.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Oh! to what Happiness have those dear Words restor'd me. I am
+again my self: for while the Possession of thee is sure, tho' distant,
+there is in that dear Hope, more Transport than any other actual
+Enjoyment can afford.
+
+_Isa._ Well adieu, and to cram you quite full with Hope (since you like
+the Food) I here promise you, that the Commands of all the Priests in
+_France_ shall not force me to marry another. That is, Sir, I will
+either marry you or die a Maid, and I have no violent Inclination to the
+latter, on the Word of a Virgin.
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+_Young_ Laroon _solus_.
+
+Whether a violent Hatred to my Father, or an inordinate Love for
+Mischief, hath set the Priest on this Affair, I know not. Perhaps it is
+the former----for the old Gentleman hath the Happiness of being
+universally hated by every Priest in _Toulon_----Let a Man abuse a
+Physician, he makes another Physician his Friend, let him rail at a
+Lawyer, another will plead his Cause gratis; if he libel this Courtier,
+that Courtier receives him into his Bosom: but let him once attack a
+Hornet or a Priest, the whole Nest of Hornets, and the whole Regiment of
+Black-guards are sure to be upon him.
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+_Old_ Laroon _laughing_, _Young_ Laroon.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ You are merry, Sir.
+
+_Old. Lar._ Merry, Sir! Ay, Sir! I am merry, Sir. Would you have your
+Father sad, you Rascal? Have you a mind to bury him in his Youth?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Pardon me, Sir, I rather wished to know the happy Occasion of
+your Mirth.
+
+_Old Lar._ The Occasion of my Mirth, Sir, is the saddest Sight that ever
+Mortal beheld.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ A very odd Occasion indeed.
+
+_Old Lar._ Very odd truly. It is the Sight of an old honest Whoremaster
+in a Fit of Despair, and a damned Rogue of a Priest riding him to the
+Devil.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Ay, Sir, but I have seen a more melancholy Sight.
+
+_Old Lar._ Ha! what can that be?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ A fine young Lady in a Fit of Love, and a Priest keeping her
+from her Lover.
+
+_Old Lar._ How?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ The Explanation of which is, that Father Martin hath put off
+our Match for a Week.
+
+_Old. Lar._ Put off your Match with _Isabel_!
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Even so, Sir.
+
+_Old Lar._ Well I never have made a Hole in a Gown yet, I never have
+tapped a Priest: but if I don't let out some reverend Blood before the
+Sun sets, may I never See him rise again. I'll carbonade the Villain,
+I'll make a Ragout for the Devil's Supper of him.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Let me intreat you, Sir, to do nothing rashly, as long as I
+am safe in the Faith of my _Isabel_.
+
+_Old Lar._ I tell you, Sirrah, no Man is safe in the Faith of a
+Mistress, no one is secure of a Woman till he is in Bed with her. Had
+there been any Security in the Faith of a Mistress, I had been at
+present married to half the Dutchesses in _France_. I no more rely on
+what a Woman says out of a Church, than on what a Priest says in it.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Pardon me, Sir: but I should have very little Appetite to
+marry the Woman whom I had such an Opinion of.
+
+_Old Lar._ You had an Opinion of! What Business have you to have any
+Opinion. Is it not enough that I have an Opinion of her, that is of her
+Fortune--But I suppose you are one of those romantick, whining Coxcombs,
+that are in Love with a Woman behind her Back: Sirrah, I have had two
+Women lawfully, and two thousand unlawfully, and never was in Love in my
+Life.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Well, Sir, then I am happy, that we both agree in the same
+Person; I like the Woman, and you her Fortune.
+
+_Old. Lar._ Yes, you Dog, and I'd have you secure her as soon as you
+can: for if a greater Fortune should be found out in _Toulon_, I'd make
+you marry her--So go find out your Mistress, and stick close to her, and
+I'll go seek the Priest, whom, if I can find, I will stick close to with
+a Vengeance.
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+_Another Apartment._
+
+Jourdain, Martin.
+
+_Jourd._ Alas! Father, there is one Sin sticks by me more than any I
+have confessed to you. It is so enormous a one my Shame hath prevented
+me discovering it--I have often concealed my Crimes from my Confessor.
+
+_Mart._ That is a damnable Sin indeed. It seemeth to argue a Distrust of
+the Church, the greatest of all Crimes; a Sin I fear the Church cannot
+forgive.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! say not so, Father!
+
+_Mart._ I should have said will not, or not without difficulty: for the
+Church can do all things.
+
+_Jourd._ That is some Comfort again.
+
+_Mart._ I hope, however, tho' you have not confessed them, you have not
+forgotten them; for they must be confessed before they can be forgiven.
+
+_Jourd._ I hope I shall recollect them, they are a black Roll--I
+remember I once was the Occasion of ruining a Woman's Reputation by
+shewing a Letter from her.
+
+_Mart._ If you had shewn it to the Priest it had been no Fault.
+
+_Jourd._ Alas! Sir, I wrote the Letter to my self, and thus traduced the
+Innocent. I afterwards commanded a Company of Granadiers, at the taking
+of a Town, where I knocked a poor old Gentleman in the Head for the sake
+of his Money, and ravished his Daughter.
+
+_Mart._ These are crying Sins indeed.
+
+_Jourd._ At the same time I robbed a Jesuit of two Pistoles.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! damnable! Oh! execrable!
+
+_Jourd._ Good Father, have Patience: I once borrowed five hundred Livres
+of an honest Citizen in Paris, and repay'd him by lying with his Wife:
+And what sits nearest my Heart, was forced to pay a young Cavalier the
+same Sum, by suffering him to lie with mine.
+
+_Mart._ Oh!
+
+_Jourd._ And yet what are these to what I have done since I commenced
+Merchant. What have I not done to get a Penny. I insured a Ship for a
+great Value, and then cast it away; I broke when I was worth a hundred
+thousand Livres, and went over to _London_. I settled there, renounced
+my Religion, and was made a Justice of Peace.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! that Seat of Heresy and Damnation! that Whore of _Babylon_!
+
+_Jourd._ With the Whores of _Babylon_ did I unite: I protected them from
+Justice: Gaming-houses and Baudy-houses did I license, nay, and frequent
+too; I never punished any Vice but Poverty: for Oh! I dread to name it:
+I once committed a Priest to _Newgate_ for picking Pockets.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! monstrous! horrible! dreadful! I'll hear no more. Thou art
+damn'd without Reprieve.
+
+_Jourd._ Take Pity, Father, take Pity on a Penitent.
+
+_Mart._ Pity! the Church abhors it. 'Twere Mercy to such a Wretch to
+pray him into Purgatory.
+
+_Jourd._ I'll give all my Estate to the Church, I'll found Monasteries,
+I'll build Abbies.
+
+_Mart._ All will not do, ten thousand Masses will not deliver you.
+
+_Jourd._ Was ever such a miserable Wretch!
+
+_Mart._ Thou hast Sins enough to damn thy whole Family. Monstrous
+Impiety! to lift up the Hand of Justice against the Church.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh speak some Comfort to me: will no Penance expiate my Crime?
+
+_Mart._ It is too grievous for a single Penance, go settle your Estate
+on the Church, and send your Daughter to a Nunnery, her Prayers will
+avail more than yours: Heaven hears the young and innocent with
+Pleasure. I will, my self, say four Masses a-day for you; and all these,
+I hope, will purchase your Forgiveness, at least your Stay in Purgatory
+will be short.
+
+_Jourd._ My Daughter! She is to be married to-morrow, and I shall never
+prevail on her.
+
+_Mart._ You must force her; your all depends on it.
+
+_Jourd._ But I have already sworn I will not force her.
+
+_Mart._ The Church absolves you from that Oath, and it were now Impiety
+to keep it. Go, lose not a Moment, see her entered with the utmost
+Expedition; she may put it out of your Power.
+
+_Jourd._ What a poor miserable Wretch am I?
+
+
+SCENE X.
+
+Martin _solus_.
+
+Thou art a miserable Wretch indeed! And it is on such miserable Wretches
+depends our Power: that Superstition which tears thy Bowels, feeds
+ours. This Nunnery is a Master-piece, let me but once shut up my dear
+_Isabel_ from every other Man, and the Warmth of her Constitution may be
+my very powerful Friend. How far am I got already from the very Brink of
+Despair, by the Despair of this old Fool. Superstition, I adore thee,
+
+  Thou handle to the cheated Layman's Mind,
+  By which in Fetters Priestcraft leads Mankind.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II. SCENE I.
+
+Jourdain, Isabel.
+
+
+  JOURDAIN.
+
+Have you no Compassion for your Father, for him that gave you being?
+Could you bear to hear me howl in Purgatory?
+
+_Isa._ Lud! Pappa! Do you think your putting me into Purgatory in this
+World, will save you from Purgatory in the next? If you have any Sins
+you must repent of them your self; for I give you my Word, I have enough
+to do to repent of my own.
+
+_Jourd._ You will soon wipe off that Score, and will be then in a Place
+where you cannot contract a new one.
+
+_Isa._ Indeed, Sir, to shut a Woman out from Sin is not so easy. But,
+dear Sir, how can it enter into your Head, that my Penance can be
+acceptable for your Sin? Take my Word, one Week's fasting will be of
+more Service to you than this long Fast you would enjoin me.
+
+_Jourd._ Alas! Child, if fasting would do, I am sure I have not been
+wanting to my Duty: I have fasted till I am almost worn away to
+nothing; I have almost fasted my self into Purgatory, while I was
+fasting my self out of it.
+
+_Isa._ But whence comes all this Apprehension of your Danger?
+
+_Jourd._ Whence should it come, but from the Church.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! Sir, I have thought of the most lucky thing. You know, my
+Cousin _Beatrice_ is just going into a Nunnery, and she will pray for
+you as much as you would have her.
+
+_Jourd._ Trifle not with so serious a Concern. No Prayers but yours will
+ever do me good.
+
+_Isa._ Then you shall have them any where but in a Nunnery.
+
+_Jourd._ They must be there too.
+
+_Isa._ That will be impossible: for if I was there, instead of praying
+you out of Purgatory, my Prayers would be all bent to pray my self out
+of the Nunnery again.
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, Jourdain, Isabel.
+
+_Old. Lar._ A Dog, a Villain, put off my Son's Match. Mr. _Jourdain_,
+your Servant; will you suffer a Rogue of a Jesuit to defer your
+Daughter's Marriage a whole Week?
+
+_Jourd._ I am sorry, Mr. _Laroon_, for the Disappointment, but her
+Marriage will be deferred longer than that.
+
+_Old. Lar._ How, Sir!
+
+_Jourd._ She is intended for another Marriage, Sir, a much better Match.
+
+_Old. Lar._ A much better Match!--
+
+_Isa._ Yes, Sir, I am to be sent to a Nunnery, to pray my Father out of
+Purgatory.
+
+_Old Lar._ Oh! Ho!--We'll make that Matter very easy: he shall have no
+Fear of Purgatory; for I'll send him to the Devil this Moment. Come,
+Sir, draw, draw--
+
+_Jourd._ Draw what, Sir!
+
+_Old Lar._ Draw your Sword, Sir.
+
+_Jourd._ Alas, Sir, I have long since done with Swords, I have broke my
+Sword long since.
+
+_Old Lar._ Then I shall break your Head, you old Rogue.
+
+_Jourd._ Heyday----you are mad; what's the Matter?
+
+_Old Lar._ Oh! no matter, no matter, you have used me ill, and you are a
+Son of a Whore, that's all.
+
+_Jourd._ I wou'd not, Mr. _Laroon_, have my Conscience accuse me of
+using you ill: I would not have preferred any earthly Match to your Son,
+but if Heaven requires her--
+
+_Old Lar._ I shall run mad.
+
+_Jourd._ I hope my Daughter has Grace enough to make an Atonement for
+her Father's Sins.
+
+_Old Lar._ And so, you wou'd atone for all your former Rogueries, by a
+greater, by perverting the Design of Nature! Was this Girl intended for
+praying! Hearkee, old Gentleman, let the young Couple together, and
+they'll sacrifice their first Fruits to the Church.
+
+_Jourd._ It is impossible.
+
+_Old Lar._ Well, Sir, then I shall attempt to persuade you no longer;
+so, Sir, I desire you would fetch your Sword.
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+_Young_ Laroon _in a Friar's Habit_, _Old_ Laroon, Jourdain.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Let Peace be in this House----Where is the Sinner _Jourdain_?
+
+_Jourd._ Here is the miserable Wretch.
+
+_Old Lar._ Death and the Devil, another Priest.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Then know I am thy Friend, and am come to save thee from
+Destruction.
+
+_Old Lar._ That's likely enough.
+
+_Y. Lar._ St. _Francis_ the Patron of our Order hath sent me on this
+Journey, to caution thee, that thou may not suffer thy sinful Daughter
+to profane the holy Veil. Such was it seems thy Purpose; but the
+Perdition that would have attended it I dread to think on. Rejoice
+therefore, and prostrate thy self at the Shrine of a Saint, who has not
+only sent thee this Caution, but does himself intercede for all thy
+Sins.
+
+_Old Lar._ Agad! and St. _Francis_ is a very honest Fellow, and thou art
+the first Priest that ever I lik'd in my whole Life.
+
+_Jourd._ St. _Francis_ honours me too much. I shall try to deserve the
+Favour of that Saint. But wherefore is my Daughter denied the holy Veil?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Your Daughter, I am concerned to say it, is now with Child by
+a young Gentleman, one Mr. _Laroon_.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh Heavens!
+
+_Old Lar._ What's that you say, Sir, because I thought I heard somewhat
+of a damn'd Lye come out of your Mouth.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Sir, it is St. _Francis_ speaks within me, and he cannot be
+mistaken.
+
+_Old Lar._ I can tell you, Sir, if that young Gentleman had heard you,
+he would certainly have thrashed St. _Francis_ out of you.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Sir, you have nothing to do now, but to prepare the Match with
+the utmost Expedition.
+
+_Old Lar._ This St. _Francis_ must lye, or the Boy would not be so eager
+upon the Affair: No one is ever eager to sign Articles when they have
+entered the Town.----Well, Master _Jourdain_, if the young Dog has
+tripped up your Daughter's Heels in an unlawful way, as St. _Francis_
+says, why, he shall make her amends and--and do it in a lawful one. So
+I'll go see for my Son, while you go and comfort the poor Chicken that
+is pining for fear of a Nunnery.----Odsheart, it would be very hard
+indeed, when a Girl has once had her Belly full, that she must fast all
+her Life afterwards.
+
+_Y. Lar._ I have deliver'd my Commission and shall now return to my
+Convent----Farewel, and return Thanks to St. _Francis_.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! St. _Francis_! St. _Francis_! What a merciful Saint art
+thou!
+
+
+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.
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+Jourdain, Martin, Isabel.
+
+_Mart._ Ha! Why this unseasonable Interruption, while your Daughter is
+at Confession?
+
+_Jourd._ Oh, Father, I have brought you News will make you happy, will
+rejoice your poor Heart. My Daughter is redeemed.
+
+_Mart._ Out of Purgatory----vain Man! dost thou think to inform the
+Church?--
+
+_Jourd._ I suppose St. _Francis_ has been beforehand with me. Indeed I
+should have imagined that before: for we seldom hear any thing from the
+Saints, but thro' the Mouth of a Priest.
+
+_Mart._ (What does he mean?)                                   [_Aside._
+
+_Jourd._ Well, Daughter, the Thoughts of a Nunnery now give you no
+Uneasiness.
+
+_Mart._ No, no, she is perfectly reconciled to it, and I am confident,
+would not quit the Nunnery for the Bed of a Prince.
+
+_Jourd._ Ha! would not quit the Nunnery, Heaven forbid.
+
+_Mart._ How! you are not mad!
+
+_Jourd._ Unless with Joy. I thought you had known that I have received
+an Order from St. _Francis_, to marry my Daughter immediately.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! Folly! to marry her immediately; why ay, to marry her to the
+Church, St. _Francis_ means. You see into what Errors the Laity run,
+when they go without the Leading-strings of the Church, and would
+interpret for themselves what they know nothing of.
+
+_Isa._ I'll take this Opportunity to steal off, and communicate a Design
+of mine to young _Laroon_, which may draw this Priest into a Snare he
+little dreams of.
+
+_Jourd._ But I cannot see how that should be St. Francis's Meaning: For
+tho' my Daughter may be married to the Church in a figurative Sense,
+sure, she cannot be with Child by the Church in a literal one.
+
+_Mart._ I see the Business now, unhappy Man! I was in Hopes to have
+prevented this----_Exorcizo te, Exorcizo te,_ Satan. _Ton Dapamibominos
+prosephe podas ocus Achilleus_.
+
+_Jourd._ Bless us, what mean you?
+
+_Mart._ You are possessed; the Devil has taken possession of you; he is
+now within you, I saw him just now look out of your Eyes.
+
+_Jourd._ O miserable Wretch that I am!
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Jourdain, Martin.
+
+_Old Lar._ Mr. _Jourdain_, your Servant. Where is my Daughter-in-law:
+I'll warrant she will easily forgive one Day's forwarding the Match.
+Odso, it's an Error of the right side.
+
+_Jourd._ Talk not to me of my Daughter, I am possessed, I am possessed.
+
+_Old Lar._ Possessed--what the Devil are you possessed with.
+
+_Jourd._ I am possessed with the Devil.
+
+_Old Lar._ You are possessed with a Priest, and that's worse. Come,
+let's have the Wedding, and at Night, we'll drive the Devil out of you
+with a Fidle. The Devil is a great Lover of Musick. I have known half a
+Dozen Devils dance out of a Man's Mouth at the tuning a Violin, then
+present the Company with a Hornpipe, and so dance a Jig through the
+Keyhole.
+
+_Mart._ Thou art the Devil's Son; for he is the Father of Lyars.
+
+_Old Lar._ Thou art the Devil's Footman, and wearest his proper Livery.
+
+_Jourd._ Fy upon you, Mr. _Laroon_; Fy upon you.
+
+_Mart._ Mr. _Laroon_! O surprizing Effect of Possession----Here is no
+Body.
+
+_Jourd._ Can I not believe my Eyes?
+
+_Mart._ Can you not! no--you are to believe mine. The Eyes of the Laity
+may err, the Eyes of a Priest cannot.
+
+_Jourd._ And do I not see Mr. _Laroon_ and his Son!
+
+_Mart._ You see neither. It is the Spirit within you that represents to
+your Eyes and Ears what Objects it pleases.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! miserable Wretch.
+
+_Old Lar._ Agad I'll try whether I am no Body or no, and whether I
+cannot make this Priest sensible that I am somebody.
+
+_Y. Lar._ For Heaven's sake, Sir, consider the Consequence.
+
+_Old Lar._ Consequence! Do you think I'll suffer a Rascal to prove me
+nothing at all to my Face?
+
+_Jourd._ And is it possible all this is a Vision?
+
+_Mart._ Retire to Rest----while I by the Force and Battery of Prayer,
+expel this dreadful Guest.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! what a miserable Wretch am I!
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Martin.
+
+_Old Lar._ Hearkee, Sir, will you please to tell me what this great
+Impudence of yours means? and what you would intend by Annihilating me.
+
+_Mart._ It were happy for such Sinners that they cou'd be annihilated:
+It were worth you two hundred thousand Masses, take my Word for it.
+
+_Old Lar._ It were happy for such Rascals as you, Sirrah, that all
+Honesty was annihilated.
+
+_Y. Lar._ But pray, Father, what Reasons have you for preventing my
+Match with _Isabel_?
+
+_Mart._ Reasons, young Gentleman, that are not proper for your Ears.
+_Isabel_ is intended for a better Bridegroom than you.
+
+_Old Lar._ How, Sirrah! how! Do you disparage my Son? Do you run down my
+Boy? Hearkee, either make up Affairs between them immediately, exert thy
+self in thy proper office and hold the Door, or I'll blow up thy
+Convent; I'll burn your Garrison, and disband such a Set of black
+Locusts as shall rob and pillage all _Toulon_.
+
+_Mart._ I contemn thy Threats. The Saints defend their Ministers.
+
+_Old Lar._ The Saints defend their Ministers! the Laws defend them: St.
+Wheel, and St. Prison, and St. Gibbet, and St. Faggot; these are the
+Saints that defend you. If you had no Defence but from the Saints in the
+other World, you wou'd few of you stay long in this. If you had no other
+Arms than your Beads, you would have shortly no other Food.
+
+_Mart._ Oh Slanderous! Oh impious! some Judgment cannot be far off.
+
+_Old Lar._ When a Priest is so near--Sirrah!
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+Isabel, _to them_.
+
+_Mart._ Daughter, fly from this wicked Place; the Breath of Sin has
+infected it, and two Gallons of Holy Water will scarce purify the Air.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! Heavens! What's the Matter, Father?
+
+_Old Lar._ Why the Matter is, this Gentleman in Black here, for Reasons
+best known to himself, and another Gentleman in Black, has thought fit
+to forbid your Marriage.
+
+_Isa._ What the Saints please.
+
+_Old Lar._ Hoity-toity! What, has he fill'd your Head with the Saints
+too?
+
+_Isa._ Oh Sir! I have had such Dreams.
+
+_Old Lar._ Dreams! Ha, ha, ha: The Devil's in it, if a Girl just going
+to be married should not have Dreams. But they were Dreams the Saints
+had nothing to do with, I warrant you.
+
+_Isa._ Such Visions of Saints appearing to me, and advising me to a
+Nunnery.
+
+_Old Lar._ Impossible! Impossible! for I have had Visions too: I have
+been order'd by half a Dozen Saints to see you married with the utmost
+Expedition; and a very honest Saint, whose Name I forget, came to me
+about an Hour ago, and swore heartily if you were not married within
+this Week, he'd lead you to Purgatory in a Fortnight.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! grievous!
+
+_Isa._ Can there be such Contradictions?
+
+_Old Lar._ Pshaw! Pshaw! Yours was a Dream, and so to be understood
+backwards; Mine, a true Vision, therefore to be believ'd. Why, Child, I
+have been a famous Seer of Visions in my Time. Wou'd you believe it?
+While I was in the Army, there never was a Battle, but I saw it some
+time beforehand. I have had an intimate Familiarity with the Saints, I
+know them all: There is not one of them cou'd be capable of saying such
+a thing.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! Sir, I saw, and heard, and must believe, for none but the
+Church can contradict our Senses.
+
+_Old. Lar._ So, so! the Distemper's hereditary, I find: the Daughter is
+as full of the Church as the Father. Come away, Son, come away: I would
+not have thee marry into such a Family, I shou'd be Grand-father to a
+Race of greasy Priests. 'Sdeath! this Girl will be brought to bed of a
+Pope one Day or other.
+
+_Isa._ 'Tis out, 'tis out.
+
+_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.
+
+_Mart._ And if any thing be wanting on mine, may I never say Mass again,
+or never be paid for Masses I have not said. Either this Girl has
+extraordinary Simplicity, or what is more likely, extraordinary Cunning;
+she does not seem averse to my Kisses. Why should I not imagine she sees
+and approves my Design. Well, I'll say this for the Sex: Let a Man but
+invent any Excuse for the Sin, and they are all ready to undertake it.
+How happy is a Priest,
+
+  Who can the blushing Maid's Resistance smother,
+  With Sin in one Hand, Pardon in the other.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III. SCENE I.
+
+
+SCENE, Isabel'_s_ _Apartment_.
+
+_Young_ Laroon, Isabel.
+
+  _Young_ LAROON.
+
+Perdition seize the Villain, may all the Torments of twenty Inquisitions
+wrack his Soul.
+
+_Isa._ Act your Part well, and we shall not want his own Weapons against
+him.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Sure it is impossible he can intend it--
+
+_Isa._ Shall I make the Experiment?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ I shall never be able to forbear murdering him.
+
+_Isa._ You shall promise not to commit any Violence, you know too well
+what wou'd be the Consequence of that. Let us sufficiently convict him,
+and leave his Punishment to the Law.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ And I know too well what will be the Consequence of that.
+There seems to be a Combination between Priests and Lawyers; the Lawyers
+are to save the Priests from Punishment for their Rogueries in this
+World, and the Priests the Lawyers in the next.
+
+_Isa._ However, the same Law that screens him for having injured you,
+will punish you for having done Justice to him. [_Knocking at the Door._
+
+_Isa._ Oh! Heavens! the Priest is at the Door. What shall we do?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Damn him: I'll stay here and confront him.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! No, by no means: For once, I'll attack him in his own Way; so
+the Moment he opens the Door, do you run out and leave the rest to me.
+
+  [_She throws her self into a Chair, and shrieks._ _Young_ Laroon
+    _overturns_ Martin.
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+Martin, Isabel.
+
+_Mart._ I am slain, I am overlaid, I am murdered. Oh! Daughter,
+Daughter, is this your patient Expectation of the Spirit?
+
+_Isa._ It has been here: It has been here.
+
+_Mart._ What has been here?
+
+_Isa._ Oh! the Spirit, the Spirit. It has been here this half Hour, and
+just as you came in, it vanished away in a Clap of Thunder, and I
+thought would have taken the Room with it.
+
+_Mart._ I thought it would have taken me with it, I am sure. Spirit
+indeed! There are abundance of such Spirits as these in _Toulon_. And
+pray, how have the Spirit and you employed your time this half Hour?
+
+_Isa._ Oh! don't ask me: It is impossible to tell you.
+
+_Mart._ Ay, 'tis needless too: for I can give a shrewd Guess. I suppose
+you like his Company.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! so well! That I could wish he would visit me ten Times every
+Day.
+
+_Mart._ Oh, Ho! And in the same Shape too.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! I shou'd like him in any Shape, and I dare swear he'll come
+in any Shape too: For he is the purest, sweetest, most complaisant
+Spirit: I could have almost sworn it had been Mr. _Laroon_ himself.
+
+_Mart._ Was there ever such a----
+
+_Isa._ Nay, when it came in first, it behaved just like Mr. _Laroon_,
+and call'd it self by his Name; but when it found I did not answer a
+Word, it took me by the Hand, and cry'd, is it possible you can be angry
+with your _Laroon_! I answer'd not a Word; then it kissed me a hundred
+times; I said nothing still; it caught me in its Arms, and embrac'd me
+Passionately; I still behaved as you commanded me, very passive.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! the Devil, the Devil! Was ever Man so caught. And did you
+never apprehend it to be Mr. _Laroon_ himself?
+
+_Isa._ Heaven forbid, I should have suffered Mr. _Laroon_ in those
+Familiarities, which you order'd me to allow the Spirit.
+
+_Mart._ I am caught indeed. Damn'd driveling Idiot!            [_Aside._
+
+_Isa._ But, dear Father, tell me, shall I not see it again quickly? For
+I long to see it again.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! Yes, yes----
+
+_Isa._ I long to see it in the dark (methinks) for you know, Father, one
+sees Spirits best in the dark.
+
+_Mart._ Ay, ay, you'll see it in the dark, I warrant you; but be sure
+and behave as you did before.
+
+_Isa._ And will he always behave as he did before, Father?
+
+_Mart._ Hum! Be in your Chamber this Evening at Eight; take care there
+be no Light in the Room, and perhaps the Spirit may pay you a second
+Visit.
+
+_Isa._ I'll be sure to be punctual.
+
+_Mart._ And passive.
+
+_Isa._ I'll obey you in every thing.
+
+_Mart._ Senseless Oaf. But tho' I have lost the first Fruits by her
+extreme Folly, yet am I highly delighted with it; and if I do not make a
+notable use of it I am no Priest.
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+Jourdain _solus_.
+
+Oh! Purgatory! Purgatory! What wou'd I not give to escape thy Flames!
+(methinks) I feel them already. Hark! what Noise is that?--Nothing--Ha!
+what's that I see? Something with two Heads----What can all this
+portend?----What a poor miserable Wretch am I?
+
+  _Enter Servant._
+
+_Serv._ Sir, a Friar below desires to speak with you.
+
+_Jourd._ Why will you suffer a Man of Holy Order to wait a Moment at my
+Door? Bring him in.
+
+Perhaps he is some Messenger of Comfort. But Oh! I rather fear the
+reverse: For what Comfort can a Sinner like me expect?
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+_Old_ Laroon _in a Friar's Habit_, Jourdain.
+
+_Old Lar._ A Plague attend this House and all that are in it.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! Oh!
+
+_Old Lar._ Art thou that miserable, sad, poor Son of a Whore,
+_Jourdain_?
+
+_Jourd._ Alas! Alas!
+
+_Old Lar._ If thou art he, I have a Message to thee from St. _Francis_.
+The Saint gives his humble Service to you, and bid me tell you, You are
+one of the saddest Dogs that ever liv'd; for having disobey'd his
+Orders, and attempted to put your Daughter into a Nunnery: For which he
+has given me positive Orders to assure you, you shall lie in Purgatory
+five hundred thousand Years.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh!
+
+_Old Lar._ And I assure you it is a very warm sort of a Place; for I
+call'd there as I came along to take Lodgings for you.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! Heavens! is it possible! that you can have seen the
+dreadful Horrors of that Place?
+
+_Old Lar._ Seen them! Ha, ha, ha, why, I have been there half a dozen
+times in a Day: Why, how far do you take it to be to Purgatory? Not
+above a Mile and half at farthest, and every Step of the way down Hill.
+Seen them! ay, ay, I have seen them, and a pretty Sight they are too, a
+pretty tragical sort of a Sight; if it were not for the confounded Heat
+of the Air----then there is the prettiest Consort of Musick.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! Heavens! Musick!
+
+_Old Lar._ Ay, ay, Groans, Groans, a fine Consort of Groans, you would
+think your self at an Opera, if it were not for the great Heat of the
+Air, as I said before; some Spirits are shut up in Ovens, some are
+chain'd to Spits, some are scatter'd in Frying-pans--and I have taken up
+a Place for you on a Gridiron.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! I am scorch'd, I am scorch'd--For Pity's sake, Father,
+intercede with St. _Francis_ for me: Compassionate my Case--
+
+_Old Lar._ There is but one way, let me carry him the News of your
+Daughter's Marriage, that may perhaps appease him. Between you and I,
+St. _Francis_ is a liquorish old Dog, and loves to set People to work to
+his Heart.
+
+_Jourd._ She shall be married this Instant, the Saint must know it is
+none of my Fault: Had I rightly understood his Will, it had been long
+since performed--But well might I misinterpret him, when even the
+Church, when Father _Martin_ fail'd.
+
+_Old Lar._ I wou'd be very glad to know where I should find that same
+Father _Martin_. I have a small Commission to him relating to a
+Purgatory Affair. St. _Francis_ has sentenced him to lie in a Frying-pan
+there, just six hundred Years, for his Amour with your Daughter.
+
+_Jourd._ My Daughter!
+
+_Old Lar._ Are you ignorant of it then? Did not you know that he had
+debauched your Daughter?
+
+_Jourd._ Ignorant! oh! Heavens! no Wonder she is refused the Veil.
+
+_Old Lar._ I thought you had known it. I'll shew you a Sight worse than
+Purgatory it self. You shall behold this Disgrace to the Church; a Sight
+shall make you shudder.
+
+_Jourd._ Is it possible a Priest should be such a Villain?
+
+_Old Lar._ Nothing's impossible to the Church you know.
+
+_Jourd._ And may I hope St. _Francis_ will be appeas'd.
+
+_Old Lar._ Hum! There is a great Favourite of that Saint who lives in
+this Town, his Name is Monsieur _Laroon_. If you could get him to say
+half a Dozen Bead-Rolls for you, they might be of great Service.
+
+_Jourd._ How! Can the Saint regard so loose a Liver?
+
+_Old Lar._ Oh! St. _Francis_ loves an honest merry Fellow to his Soul.
+And hearkee, I don't think it impossible for Mr. _Laroon_ to bring you
+acquainted with the Saint; for to my Knowledge, they very often crack a
+Bottle together.
+
+_Jourd._ Can I believe it?
+
+_Serv._ Father _Martin_ is below.
+
+_Old Lar._ Son, behave civilly to him, nor mention a Word of what I have
+told you--that we may entrap him more securely.
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+Martin, _to them_.
+
+_Mart._ Peace be with my Son. Ha! a Friar here! I like not this, I will
+have no Partners in my Plunder. Save you, reverend Father.
+
+_Old Lar._ _Tu quoque._
+
+_Mart._ This Fellow should be a Jesuit by his Taciturnity. You see,
+Father, the miserable State of our poor Son.
+
+_Old Lar._ I have advis'd him thereon.
+
+_Mart._ Your Advice is kind, tho' needless. He hath not wanted Prayer,
+Fasting, nor Castigation, which are proper Physick for him.
+
+_Old Lar._ Or suppose, Father, he was to go to a Ball. What think you of
+a Ball?
+
+_Mart._ A Ball?
+
+_Old Lar._ Ay, or a Wench now; suppose, we were to procure him a Wench.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! monstrous! Oh! impious!----
+
+_Old Lar._ I only give my Opinion.
+
+_Mart._ Thy Opinion is damnable. And thou art some Wolf in Sheep's
+clothing. Thou art a Scandal to thy Order.
+
+_Old Lar._ I wish thou art not more a Scandal to thine, Brother Father,
+to abuse a poor old Fellow in a Fit of the Spleen here as thou dost,
+with a Set of ridiculous Notions of Purgatory and the Devil knows what,
+when both you and I know there is no such thing.
+
+_Mart._ That I should not know thee before. Don't you know this reverend
+Father, Son? Your worthy Neighbour _Laroon_.
+
+_Old Lar._ Then farewel, Hypocrisy. I wou'd not wear thy Cloke another
+Hour for any Consideration.
+
+_Jourd._ What do I see?
+
+_Old Lar._ Why you see a very honest Neighbour of yours, that has try'd
+to deliver you out of the Claws of a roguish Priest, whom you may see
+too; look in the Glass and you may see an old doating Fool, who is
+afraid of his own Shadow.
+
+_Mart._ Be not concerned at this, Son. Perhaps, one Hour's suffering
+from this Fellow, may strike off several Years of Purgatory; I have
+known such Instances.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! Father! Didst thou know what I have been guilty of
+believing against thee, from the Mouth of this wicked Man?
+
+_Old Lar._ Death and the Devil, I'll stay no longer here; for if I do, I
+shall cut this Priest's Throat, tho' the Rack was before my Face.
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+Martin, Jourdain.
+
+_Mart._ Son, take care of believing any thing against the Church: It is
+as sinful to believe any thing against the Church, as to disbelieve any
+thing for it. You are to believe what the Church tells you, and no more.
+
+_Jourd._ I almost shudder when I think what I believed against you. I
+believed that you had seduced my Daughter.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! horrible! and did you believe it? Think not you believed it.
+I order you to think you did not believe it, and it were now sinful to
+believe you did believe it.
+
+_Jourd._ And can I think so.
+
+_Mart._ Certainly. I know what you believe better than you your self do.
+However, that your Mind may be cleansed from the least Pollution of
+Thought--go say over ten Bead-Rolls immediately, go and Peace attend
+you----
+
+_Jourd._ I am exceedingly comforted within.
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+Martin _solus_.
+
+Go. While I retire and comfort your Daughter. Was this a Suspicion of
+_Laroon_'s, or am I betrayed? I begin to fear. I'll act with Caution,
+for I am not able yet to discover whether this Girl be of prodigious
+Simplicity or Cunning. How vain is Policy, when the little Arts of a
+Woman are superior to the Wisdom of a Conclave. A Priest may cheat
+Mankind, but a Woman would cheat the Devil.
+
+
+SCENE VIII. _The Street._
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon _meet_.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Well, Sir, what Success?
+
+_Old Lar._ Success! you Rascal! If ever you offer to put me into a
+Priest's Skin again, I'll beat you out of your own.
+
+_Y. Lar._ What's the Matter, Sir?
+
+_Old Lar._ Matter, Sir? Why I have been laughed at, have been abused.
+'Sdeath! Sir! I am in such a Passion, that I do not believe I shall come
+to my self again these twenty Years. That Rascal _Martin_ discovered me
+in an Instant, and turned me into a Jest.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Be comforted, Sir, you may yet have the Pleasure of turning
+him into one.
+
+_Old Lar._ Nothing less than turning him inside out.----Nothing less
+than broiling his Gizzard will satisfy me.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Come with me, and I dare swear, I'll give your Revenge
+Content. We have laid a Snare for him, which I think it is impossible he
+should escape.
+
+_Old Lar._ A Snare for a Priest! a Trap for the Devil! You will as soon
+catch the one as the other.
+
+_Y. Lar._ I am sure our Bait is good----A fine Woman is as good a Bait
+for a Priest-trap, as toasted Cheese is for a Mouse-trap.
+
+_Old Lar._ Yes, but the Rascal will nibble off twenty Baits before you
+can take him.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Leave that to us. I'll warrant our Success.
+
+_Old Lar._ Wilt thou? then I shall have more Pleasure in taking this one
+Priest, than in all the other wild Beasts I have ever taken.
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+Jourdain, Isabel.
+
+_Isa._ If I don't convince you he's a Villain, renounce me for your
+Daughter. Do not shut your Ears against Truth, and you shall want no
+other Evidence.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh, Daughter, Daughter, some Evil Spirit is busy with you. The
+same Spirit that visited me this Morning, is now in you.
+
+_Isa._ I wish the Spirit that is in me wou'd visit you, you wou'd kick
+this Rogue out of Doors.
+
+_Jourd._ The wicked Reason of your Anger is too plain. The Priest won't
+let you have your Fellow.
+
+_Isa._ The Priest would have me for himself.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! wicked Assertion! Oh! base Return for the Care he has taken
+of your poor sinful Father, for the Love he has shewn for your Soul.
+
+_Isa._ He has shewn more Love for my Body, believe me, Sir. Nay, go but
+with me, and you shall believe your own Eyes and Ears.
+
+_Jourd._ Against the Church, Heaven forbid!
+
+_Isa._ Will you not believe your own Senses, Sir?
+
+_Jourd._ Not when the Church contradicts them.--Alas! How do we know
+what we believe without the Church? Why I thought I saw Mr. _Laroon_ and
+his Son to-day, when I saw neither. Alack-a-day, Child, the Church often
+contradicts our Senses. But you owe these wicked Thoughts to your
+Education in _England_, that vile heretical Country, where every Man
+believes what Religion he pleases, and most believe none.
+
+_Isa._ Well, Sir, if you will not be convinced, you shall be the only
+Person in _Toulon_ that is not.
+
+_Jourd._ I will go with thee, if it were only to see how far this wicked
+Spirit will carry his Imposition; for I am convinced the Devil will
+leave no Stone unturn'd to work my Destruction.
+
+_Isa._ I hope you will find us too hard for him and his Ambassador too.
+
+
+SCENE X. _Another Apartment._
+
+_Young_ Laroon _in Woman's Clothes_.
+
+None ever waited with more Impatience for her Lover than I for mine. It
+is a delightful Assignation, but I hope it is a Prelude to one more
+agreeable. I shall have Difficulty to refrain from beating the Rascal
+before he has discover'd himself--
+                                               [_Knocking at the Door._]
+
+Who's there?                                                 [_Softly._]
+
+_Bea._ _Isabel, Isabel._
+
+_Old Lar._ Come in. What a soft Voice the Rogue caterwauls in.
+
+
+SCENE XI.
+
+_Young_ Laroon, Beatrice.
+
+_Bea._ What are you doing in the Dark, my Dear?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Heyday, who the Devil is this? I seem to be in a way of an
+Assignation in earnest.
+
+_Bea._ _Isabel_, where are you?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Here, Child, give me your Hand. Dear Mademoiselle _Beatrice_,
+is it you?
+
+_Bea._ Oh Heavens! am I in a Man's Arms?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Hush! hush!----Don't you know my Voice----I am _Laroon_.
+
+_Bea._ Mr. _Laroon_! What Business can you have here?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Ask me no Questions, get but into a Corner of the Room and be
+silent, and you will perhaps see a very diverting Scene. Nay, do not be
+afraid, for I assure you, it will be a very innocent one; make haste,
+dear Madam, you will do a very laudable Action, by being an additional
+Evidence to the Discovery of a notorious Villain.
+
+_Bea._ I cannot guess your Meaning, but would willingly assist on such
+an Occasion.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Now for my desiring Lover. Ha! I think I hear him.
+
+
+SCENE XII.
+
+_Young_ Laroon, Martin.
+
+_Mart._ _Isabel_, _Isabel_, where are you?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Here.
+
+_Mart._ Come to my Arms, my Angel.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ I hope you are in no frightful Shape.
+
+_Mart._ I am in the Shape of that very good Man thy Confessor, honest
+Father _Martin_. Let me embrace thee, my Love, my Charmer.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Bless me, what do you mean?
+
+_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.
+
+_Jourd._ I am Thunder-struck with Amazement.
+
+_Old Lar._ How durst you attempt to debauch my Son, you black Rascal: I
+have a great Mind to make an Example of you for attempting to dishonour
+my Family.
+
+_Priest._ You shall be made a severe Example of for having dishonour'd
+your Order.
+
+_Mart._ I shall find another time to answer you.
+
+_Old Lar._ Hold, Sir, hold. I have too much Charity not to cleanse you,
+as much as possible, from your Pollution. So, Who's there? [_Enter
+Servants._] Here take this worthy Gentleman, and wash him a little in a
+Horse-pond, then toss him dry in a Blanket.
+
+_1 Serv._ We will wash him with a Vengeance.
+
+_All._ Ay, ay, we'll wash him.
+
+_Mart._ You may repent this, Mr. _Laroon_.
+
+
+SCENE _the Last_.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Jourdain, _Priest_, Isabel, _and_
+Beatrice.
+
+_Priest._ Tho' he deserves the worst, yet consider his Order, Mr.
+_Laroon_.
+
+_Old Lar._ Sir, he shall undergo the Punishment, tho' I suffer the like
+afterwards. Well, Master _Jourdain_, I hope you are now convinced, that
+you may marry your Daughter without going to Purgatory for it.
+
+_Jourd._ I hope you will pardon what is past, my good Neighbour. And
+you, young Gentleman, will, I hope, do the same. If my Girl can make you
+any amends, I give you her for ever.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Amends! Oh! She would make me large Amends for twenty
+thousand times my Sufferings.
+
+_Isa._ Tell me so hereafter, my dear Lover. A Woman may make a Man
+amends for his Sufferings before Marriage; but can she make him amends
+for what he suffers after it?
+
+_Yo. La._ Oh! think not that can ever be my Fate with you.
+
+_Old Lar._ Pox o' your Raptures. If you don't make her suffer before
+to-morrow-morning, thou art no Son of mine, and if she does not make you
+suffer within this Twelve-month: Blood she is no Woman--Come, honest
+Neighbour, I hope thou hast discovered thy own Folly and the Priest's
+Roguery together, and thou wilt return and be one of us again.
+
+_Jourd._ Mr. _Laroon_, if I have err'd on one side, you have err'd as
+widely on the other. Let me tell you, a Reflexion on the Sins of your
+Youth would not be unwholesome.
+
+_Old Lar._ 'Sblood Sir! but it wou'd. Reflexion is the most unwholesome
+thing in the World. Besides, Sir, I have no Sins to reflect on but those
+of an honest Fellow. If I have lov'd a Whore at five and twenty, and a
+Bottle at forty; Why, I have done as much good as I could, in my
+Generation; and that, I hope, will make amends.
+
+_Isa._ Well, my dear _Beatrice_, and are you positively bent on a
+Nunnery still?
+
+_Bea._ Hum! I suppose you will laugh at me, if I shou'd change my
+Resolution; but I have seen so much of a Priest to-day, that I really
+believe, I shall spend my Life in the Company of a Lay-man.
+
+_Old Lar._ Why, that is bravely said, Madam, S'bud! I like you, and if I
+had not resolv'd, for the Sake of this Rascal here, never to marry
+again, S'bud! I might take you into my Arms: And I can tell you, they
+are as warm as any young Fellow's in _Europe_--Come, Master _Jourdain_,
+this Night, you and I will crack a Bottle together, and to-morrow
+morning we will employ this honest Gentleman here, to tack our Son and
+Daughter together, and then I don't care if I never see a Priest again
+as long as I live.
+
+_Isa._ [to _Yo. Lar._] Well, Sir. You see we have got the better of all
+Difficulties at last. The Fears of a Lover are very unreasonable, when
+he is once assured of the Sincerity of his Mistress,
+
+  For when a Woman sets her self about it,
+  Nor Priest, nor Devil can make her go without it.
+
+
+_FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+
+  Text in italics is surrounded with underscores: _italics_.
+
+  Inconsistencies in spelling have been retained from the original.
+
+  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected as follows:
+    Page 37: Assignanation changed to Assignation
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732), by 
+Henry  Fielding
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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Old Debauchees, by Henry Fielding.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+
+body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+
+p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+
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+
+
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+    margin: 0 0.1em 0 0;
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+    line-height: .75em; font-size: 200%; }
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+
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+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732), by Henry  Fielding
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732)
+
+Author: Henry  Fielding
+
+Release Date: November 4, 2011 [EBook #37923]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OLD DEBAUCHEES. A COMEDY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Delphine Lettau, Joseph Cooper, David E. Brown
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="big">THE</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="giant"><i>Old DEBAUCHEES.</i></span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">A</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="huge">COMEDY.</span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">As it is Acted at the <span class="smcap">Theatre-Royal</span><br/>
+in <span class="smcap">Drury-Lane</span>.</p>
+
+<p class="center">By His MAJESTY's Servants.</p>
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+<p class="center">By the Author of the <span class="smcap">Modern Husband</span>.</p>
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/grey2001A.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="big"><i>LONDON</i>:</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Printed for J. W. And Sold by <span class="smcap">J. Roberts</span> in<br/>
+
+<i>Warwick-Lane</i>, MDCCXXXII.</p>
+
+<p class="center">[Price One Shilling.]</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/prologue.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="huge">PROLOGUE.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Spoken by Mr. <i>William Mills</i>.</p>
+
+
+<table class="braces" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="table">
+
+
+<tr><td><p class="cap">I <i>Wish, with all my Heart, the Stage and Town</i><br/>
+<i>Would both agree to cry all Prologues down;</i><br/>
+<i>That we, no more oblig'd to say or sing,</i><br/>
+<i>Might drop this useless necessary Thing:</i><br/>
+<i>No more with aukward Strut, before the Curtain,</i><br/>
+<i>Chaunt out some Rhimes&mdash;there's neither good nor hurt in.</i></p></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>What is this Stuff the Poets make us deal in,</i></span></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>But some old worn-out Jokes of their Retailing:</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>From Sages of our own, or former Times,</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Transvers'd from Prose, perhaps transpros'd from Rhimes.</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>How long the Tragick Muse her Station kept,</i></span></td><td>&#9131;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>How Guilt was humbl'd, and how Tyrants wept,</i></td><td>&#9132;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Forgetting still how often Hearers slept.</i></td><td>&#9133;</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Perhaps, for Change, you, now and then, by Fits,</i></span></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Are told that Criticks are the Bane of Wits;</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>How they turn Vampyres, being dead and damn'd,</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>And with the Blood of living Bards are cramm'd:</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>That Poets thus tormented die, and then</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>The Devil gets in them, and they suck agen.</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Thus modern Bards, like Bays, their Prologues frame,</i></span></td><td>&#9131;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>For this, and that, and every Play the same,</i></td><td>&#9132;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Which you, most justly, neither praise nor blame.</i></td><td>&#9133;</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>As something must be spoke, no matter what;</i></span></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>No Friends are now by Prologues lost or got;</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>By such Harangues we raise nor Spleen, nor Pity&mdash;</i></td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Thus ends this idle, but important Ditty.</i></td></tr></table>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class="center"><span class="huge">Dramatis Personæ.</span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="table">
+<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">MEN.</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>Old Laroon.</i></td><td>          Mr. <i>Shepard</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Young Laroon.</i> </td><td>       Mr. <i>Mills</i>, Junior.</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Father Martin.</i> &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;  </td><td>       Mr. <i>Cibber</i>, Junior.</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Old Jourdain.</i> </td><td>       Mr. <i>Roberts</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">WOMEN.</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td><i>Isabel.</i> </td><td>              Miss <i>Raftor</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Beatrice.</i></td><td>            Miss <i>Williams</i>.</td></tr></table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">SCENE <i>THOULON</i>.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/pageone.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="big">THE</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="huge"><i>Old DEBAUCHEES.</i></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class="center"><span class="big">ACT I. SCENE I.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">SCENE, <i>Mr.</i> Jourdain'<i>s</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="center">Isabel, Beatrice.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Isabel.</span></p>
+
+<p class="cap">A Nunnery! Ha, ha, ha! And is it possible, my dear <i>Beatrice</i>, you can
+intend to sacrifice your Youth and Beauty, to go out of the World as
+soon as you come into it!</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> No one, my dear <i>Isabel</i>, can sacrifice too much or too soon to
+Heaven.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Pshaw! Heaven regards Hearts and not Faces, and an old Woman will
+be as acceptable a Sacrifice as a young one.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> It is possible you may come to a better Understanding, and value
+the World as little as I do.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span><i>Isa.</i> As you say, it is possible when I can enjoy it no longer, I may;
+nay, I do not care if I promise you when I grow old and ugly, I'll come
+and keep you Company: But this I am positive, till the World is weary of
+me, I never shall be weary of the World.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> What can a Woman of Sense see in it worth her valuing?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! ten thousand pretty things! Equipage, Cards, Musick, Plays,
+Balls, Flattery, Visits, and that prettiest thing of all pretty things,
+a pretty Fellow&mdash;&mdash;I rather wonder what Charms a Woman of any Spirit can
+fancy in a Nunnery, in watching, working, praying, and sometimes, I am
+afraid, wishing for other Company than that of an old fusty Friar&mdash;Oh!
+'tis a delightful State, when every Man one sees, instead of tempting us
+to Sin, is to rebuke us for them.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> Such Sentiments as these would indeed make you very uneasy&mdash;but
+believe me, Child, you would soon bring yourself to hate Mankind;
+fasting and praying are the best Cures in the World for these violent
+Passions.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> On my Conscience I should want neither; if the continual Sight of
+a Set of dirty Priests would not bring me to abhor Mankind, I dare swear
+nothing could.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE II.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon, Isabel, Beatrice.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Good-morrow, my little Wag-tail&mdash;my Grashopper, my Butterfly.
+Odso! you little Baggage, you look as full of&mdash;&mdash;as full of Love and
+Sport and Wantonness&mdash;&mdash;I wish I was a young Fellow again&mdash;&mdash;Oh! that I
+was but five and twenty for thy sake. Where's my Boy? What, has not he
+been with you, has not he serenaded you?&mdash;Odsheart&mdash;I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> never let his
+Mother sleep for a Month before I married her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Indeed!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> No Madam, nor for a Month afterwards neither. The young
+Fellows of this Age are nothing, mere Butterflies, to those of
+ours&mdash;&mdash;Odsheart I remember the Time, when I could have taken a Hop,
+Step, and Jump over the Steeple of <i>Notre Dame</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> I fancy the Sparks of your Age had Wings, Sir.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Wings, you little Baggage, no&mdash;but they had&mdash;they had Limbs,
+like Elephants, and as strong they were as <i>Sampson</i>, and as swift
+as&mdash;&mdash;Why, I have my self run down a Stag in a fair Chace, and eat him
+afterwards for my Dinner. But come, where is my old Neighbour, my old
+Friend, my old <i>Jourdain</i>?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> At his Devotions, I suppose, this is the Hour he generally
+employs in them.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> This Hour! ay, all Hours. I dare swear he spends more Time in
+them, than all the Priests in <i>Toulon</i>. Well, give him his due, he was
+wicked as long as he could be so, and when he could sin no longer, why
+he began to repent that he had sinned at all. Oh! there is nothing so
+devout as an old Whoremaster.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> I fancy then it will be shortly Time for you to think of it, Sir!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Ay, Madam, about some thirty or forty Years hence it
+may&mdash;&mdash;Odsheart! I am but in the prime of my Years yet: And if it was
+not for a saucy young Rascal who looks me in the Face and calls me
+Father, might make a very good Figure among the Beaus. But tho' I am not
+so young in Years, I am in Constitution as any of them; and I don't
+question but to live to see a Son and a great Grandson both born on the
+same Day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span><i>Isa.</i> You will excuse this Lady, Mr. <i>Laroon</i>, who is going to retire
+so much earlier&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Retire!&mdash;Then it is with a young Fellow, I hope.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Into a Cloister, I assure you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> A Cloister!&mdash;Why, Madam, if you have a mind to hang your self
+at the Year's End; would it not be better to spend your Time in
+Matrimony than in a Nunnery? Don't let a Set of rascally Priests put
+strange Notions in your Head. Take my Word for it, and I am a very
+honest Fellow, there are no Raptures worth a Louse, but those in the
+Arms of a brisk young Cavalier. Of all the Actions of my Youth, there
+are none I reflect on with so much Pleasure as having burnt half a Dozen
+Nunneries, and delivered several hundred Virgins out of Captivity.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> Oh! Villany! unheard of Villany!</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Unheard of till this Moment I dare swear.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Out of which Number there are at present nine Countesses,
+three Dutchesses, and a Queen, who owe their Liberty and their Promotion
+to this Arm.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE III.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon, <i>Young</i> Laroon, Isabel, Beatrice.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> You are a fine Spark truly to let your Father visit your
+Mistress before you&mdash;'Sdeath! I believe you are no Son of mine. Where
+have you been, Sir? What have you been doing, Sir, hey?</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Sir, I have been at my Devotions.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> At your Devotions! nay, then you are no Son of mine, that's
+certain. Is not this the Shrine you are to offer up at, Sirrah! Is not
+here the Altar you are to officiate at?&mdash;Sirrah! you have no Blood of
+mine in you. I believe you are the Bastard of some travelling <i>English</i>
+Alderman, and must have come into the World with a Custard in your
+Mouth.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span><i>Y. Lar.</i> I hope, Madam, you will allow my Excuse, tho' the old
+Gentleman here will not.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Old Gentleman! very fine! Sirrah! I'll convince you I am a
+young Gentleman; I'll marry to-night, and make you a Brother before you
+are a Father; I'll teach you to thrust him out of the World that thrust
+you into it&mdash;&mdash;Madam, have no more to say to the ungracious Dog.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> That will be a sure way to quit all Obligations between us;
+for the Happiness I propose in this Lady, is the chief Reason why I
+should thank you for bringing me into the World.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> What's that you say, Sir; say that again, Sir.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> I was only thanking you, Sir, for desiring this Lady to take
+from me all I esteem on Earth.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Well enough that! I begin to think him my own again. I have
+made that very Speech to half the Women in <i>Paris</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE IV.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>To them</i> Martin.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Peace be with you all, Good People.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Peace cannot stay long in any Place where a Priest comes.</p>
+<p class="right">[<i>Aside.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Daughter, I am ready to receive your Confession&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Ay, ay, she has a fine Parcel of sinful Thoughts to answer
+for, I warrant her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Mr. <i>Laroon</i>, you are too much inclined to Slander, I must
+reprove you for it. My Daughter's Thoughts are as pure as a Saint's.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> As any Saint's in Christendom within a Day of Matrimony.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Within a Day of Matrimony; it is too quick; I have not yet had
+sufficient Time to prepare her Mind for that solemn Sacrament.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span><i>Old Lar.</i> Prepare her Mind for a young Fellow; prepare your Mind for a
+Bishoprick.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Sir, there are Ceremonies requisite, I shall be as expeditious
+as possible, but the Church has Rules.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Sir, you may be as expeditious or as slow as you please, but
+I will not have my Boy disappointed of his Happiness one Day, for all
+the Rules in <i>Europe</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE V.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Martin, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I shall bring this Haughtiness to a Penance, you may not like.
+Well, my dear Daughter, I hope your Account is not long. You have not
+many Articles since our last Reckoning.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I wish you do not think it so, Father. First, telling nine Lyes
+at the Opera the other Night to Mr. <i>Laroon</i>; yesterday talk'd during
+the whole Mass to a young Cavalier, [<i>he groans.</i>] Nay, if you groan
+already, I shall make you groan more before I have done; last Night
+cheated at Cards, scandalized three of my Acquaintance, went to Bed
+without saying my Prayers, and dreamt of Mr. <i>Laroon</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh!&mdash;Tell me the Particulars of that Dream.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Nay, Father, that I must be excus'd.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Modesty at Confession is as unseasonable as in Bed, and your
+Mind should appear as naked to your Confessor, as your Person to your
+Husband.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I thought he embraced me with the utmost Tenderness.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> But were you pleased therewith?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> You know, Father, a Lye now would be the greatest of Sins. I was
+not displeased I assure you. But I have often heard you say, there is no
+Sin in Love.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span><i>Mart.</i> No, in Love it self there is not: Love is not <i>Malum in se</i>. Nor
+in the Excess is there sometimes any: but then it must be rightly
+placed, must be directed to a proper Object. The Love a Daughter bears
+her Confessor is no doubt not only innocent, but extremely laudable.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Yes, but that&mdash;that is another sort of Love, you know.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> You are deceived, there is but one sort of Love which is
+justifiable, or, indeed, desirable.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I hope my Love for <i>Laroon</i> is that.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> That I know not, I wish it may; however, I have some Dispute as
+yet remaining with me concerning it; 'till that be satisfied, it will be
+improper for you to proceed any farther in the Affair. All the Penance,
+therefore, I shall enjoin you on this Confession, is to defer your
+Marriage one Week; by which time I shall have resolved within my self
+whether you shall marry him at all.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Not marry him at all? Sure, Father, you are not in earnest.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I never jest on these Occasions.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> What Reason can you have?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> My Reasons may not be so ripe for your Ears at present. But,
+perhaps, better things are designed for you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> 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 <i>Laroon</i>, I'll not marry any.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Perhaps you are not designed to marry any. Let me feel your
+Pulse&mdash;&mdash;Extremely feverish.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span><i>Mart.</i> Have you any more Sins to confess!</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Sins!&mdash;You have put all my Sins out of my Head, I think.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Benedicite&mdash;[<i>crossing himself.</i>] Daughter, you shall see me
+soon again, for great things are in Agitation; At present, I leave you
+to your Prayers.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE V.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Isabel <i>alone</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Sure never poor Maid had more need of Prayers: but you have left
+me no great Stomach to them. Great things are in Agitation! What can he
+mean? It must be so&mdash;&mdash;Some old liquorish Rogue with a Title, or a
+larger Estate hath a mind to supplant my dear <i>Laroon</i>.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VI.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Young</i> Laroon, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> My <i>Isabel</i>, my Sweet!&mdash;how painfully do I count each tedious
+Hour, till I can call you mine?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Indeed, you are like to count many more tedious Hours than you
+imagine.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Ha! What means my Love?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I would not have your Wishes too impatient, that's all; but if
+you will wait a Week, you shall know whether I intend to marry you or
+not.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> And is this possible? Can Words like these fall from
+<i>Isabel</i>'s sweet Lips; can she be false, inconstant, perjured?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! do not discharge such a Volley of terrible Names upon me
+before you are certain I deserve them; doubt only whether I can be
+obedient to my Confessor, and guess the rest.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Can he have enjoined you to be perjured, by Heaven it would
+be sinful to obey him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span><i>Isa.</i> Be satisfied, if I prevail with my self to obey him in this
+Week's Delay, I will carry my Obedience no farther.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Oh! to what Happiness have those dear Words restor'd me. I am
+again my self: for while the Possession of thee is sure, tho' distant,
+there is in that dear Hope, more Transport than any other actual
+Enjoyment can afford.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Well adieu, and to cram you quite full with Hope (since you like
+the Food) I here promise you, that the Commands of all the Priests in
+<i>France</i> shall not force me to marry another. That is, Sir, I will
+either marry you or die a Maid, and I have no violent Inclination to the
+latter, on the Word of a Virgin.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VII.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Young</i> Laroon <i>solus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Whether a violent Hatred to my Father, or an inordinate Love for
+Mischief, hath set the Priest on this Affair, I know not. Perhaps it is
+the former&mdash;&mdash;for the old Gentleman hath the Happiness of being
+universally hated by every Priest in <i>Toulon</i>&mdash;&mdash;Let a Man abuse a
+Physician, he makes another Physician his Friend, let him rail at a
+Lawyer, another will plead his Cause gratis; if he libel this Courtier,
+that Courtier receives him into his Bosom: but let him once attack a
+Hornet or a Priest, the whole Nest of Hornets, and the whole Regiment of
+Black-guards are sure to be upon him.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VIII.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon <i>laughing</i>, <i>Young</i> Laroon.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> You are merry, Sir.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old. Lar.</i> Merry, Sir! Ay, Sir! I am merry, Sir. Would you have your
+Father sad, you Rascal? Have you a mind to bury him in his Youth?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Pardon me, Sir, I rather wished to know the happy Occasion of
+your Mirth.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> The Occasion of my Mirth, Sir, is the saddest Sight that ever
+Mortal beheld.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> A very odd Occasion indeed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Very odd truly. It is the Sight of an old honest Whoremaster
+in a Fit of Despair, and a damned Rogue of a Priest riding him to the
+Devil.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Ay, Sir, but I have seen a more melancholy Sight.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Ha! what can that be?</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> A fine young Lady in a Fit of Love, and a Priest keeping her
+from her Lover.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> How?</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> The Explanation of which is, that Father Martin hath put off
+our Match for a Week.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old. Lar.</i> Put off your Match with <i>Isabel</i>!</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Even so, Sir.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Well I never have made a Hole in a Gown yet, I never have
+tapped a Priest: but if I don't let out some reverend Blood before the
+Sun sets, may I never See him rise again. I'll carbonade the Villain,
+I'll make a Ragout for the Devil's Supper of him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Let me intreat you, Sir, to do nothing rashly, as long as I
+am safe in the Faith of my <i>Isabel</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> I tell you, Sirrah, no Man is safe in the Faith of a
+Mistress, no one is secure of a Woman till he is in Bed with her. Had
+there been any Security in the Faith of a Mistress, I had been at
+present married to half the Dutchesses in <i>France</i>. I no more rely on
+what a Woman says out of a Church, than on what a Priest says in it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Pardon me, Sir: but I should have very little Appetite to
+marry the Woman whom I had such an Opinion of.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> You had an Opinion of! What Business have you to have any
+Opinion. Is it not enough that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> I have an Opinion of her, that is of her
+Fortune&mdash;But I suppose you are one of those romantick, whining Coxcombs,
+that are in Love with a Woman behind her Back: Sirrah, I have had two
+Women lawfully, and two thousand unlawfully, and never was in Love in my
+Life.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Well, Sir, then I am happy, that we both agree in the same
+Person; I like the Woman, and you her Fortune.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old. Lar.</i> Yes, you Dog, and I'd have you secure her as soon as you
+can: for if a greater Fortune should be found out in <i>Toulon</i>, I'd make
+you marry her&mdash;So go find out your Mistress, and stick close to her, and
+I'll go seek the Priest, whom, if I can find, I will stick close to with
+a Vengeance.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE IX.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Another Apartment.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">Jourdain, Martin.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Alas! Father, there is one Sin sticks by me more than any I
+have confessed to you. It is so enormous a one my Shame hath prevented
+me discovering it&mdash;I have often concealed my Crimes from my Confessor.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> That is a damnable Sin indeed. It seemeth to argue a Distrust of
+the Church, the greatest of all Crimes; a Sin I fear the Church cannot
+forgive.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! say not so, Father!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I should have said will not, or not without difficulty: for the
+Church can do all things.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> That is some Comfort again.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I hope, however, tho' you have not confessed them, you have not
+forgotten them; for they must be confessed before they can be forgiven.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I hope I shall recollect them, they are a black Roll&mdash;I
+remember I once was the Occasion of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> ruining a Woman's Reputation by
+shewing a Letter from her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> If you had shewn it to the Priest it had been no Fault.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Alas! Sir, I wrote the Letter to my self, and thus traduced the
+Innocent. I afterwards commanded a Company of Granadiers, at the taking
+of a Town, where I knocked a poor old Gentleman in the Head for the sake
+of his Money, and ravished his Daughter.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> These are crying Sins indeed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> At the same time I robbed a Jesuit of two Pistoles.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh! damnable! Oh! execrable!</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Good Father, have Patience: I once borrowed five hundred Livres
+of an honest Citizen in Paris, and repay'd him by lying with his Wife:
+And what sits nearest my Heart, was forced to pay a young Cavalier the
+same Sum, by suffering him to lie with mine.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh!</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> And yet what are these to what I have done since I commenced
+Merchant. What have I not done to get a Penny. I insured a Ship for a
+great Value, and then cast it away; I broke when I was worth a hundred
+thousand Livres, and went over to <i>London</i>. I settled there, renounced
+my Religion, and was made a Justice of Peace.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh! that Seat of Heresy and Damnation! that Whore of <i>Babylon</i>!</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> With the Whores of <i>Babylon</i> did I unite: I protected them from
+Justice: Gaming-houses and Baudy-houses did I license, nay, and frequent
+too; I never punished any Vice but Poverty: for Oh! I dread to name it:
+I once committed a Priest to <i>Newgate</i> for picking Pockets.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span><i>Mart.</i> Oh! monstrous! horrible! dreadful! I'll hear no more. Thou art
+damn'd without Reprieve.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Take Pity, Father, take Pity on a Penitent.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Pity! the Church abhors it. 'Twere Mercy to such a Wretch to
+pray him into Purgatory.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I'll give all my Estate to the Church, I'll found Monasteries,
+I'll build Abbies.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> All will not do, ten thousand Masses will not deliver you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Was ever such a miserable Wretch!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Thou hast Sins enough to damn thy whole Family. Monstrous
+Impiety! to lift up the Hand of Justice against the Church.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh speak some Comfort to me: will no Penance expiate my Crime?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> It is too grievous for a single Penance, go settle your Estate
+on the Church, and send your Daughter to a Nunnery, her Prayers will
+avail more than yours: Heaven hears the young and innocent with
+Pleasure. I will, my self, say four Masses a-day for you; and all these,
+I hope, will purchase your Forgiveness, at least your Stay in Purgatory
+will be short.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> My Daughter! She is to be married to-morrow, and I shall never
+prevail on her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> You must force her; your all depends on it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> But I have already sworn I will not force her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> The Church absolves you from that Oath, and it were now Impiety
+to keep it. Go, lose not a Moment, see her entered with the utmost
+Expedition; she may put it out of your Power.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> What a poor miserable Wretch am I?</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE X.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Martin <i>solus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Thou art a miserable Wretch indeed! And it is on such miserable Wretches
+depends our Power:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> that Superstition which tears thy Bowels, feeds
+ours. This Nunnery is a Master-piece, let me but once shut up my dear
+<i>Isabel</i> from every other Man, and the Warmth of her Constitution may be
+my very powerful Friend. How far am I got already from the very Brink of
+Despair, by the Despair of this old Fool. Superstition, I adore thee,</p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 3em;">Thou handle to the cheated Layman's Mind,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">By which in Fetters Priestcraft leads Mankind.</span></p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/grey1001A.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="big">ACT II. SCENE I.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Jourdain, Isabel.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Jourdain.</span></p>
+
+<p class="cap">Have you no Compassion for your Father, for him that gave you being?
+Could you bear to hear me howl in Purgatory?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Lud! Pappa! Do you think your putting me into Purgatory in this
+World, will save you from Purgatory in the next? If you have any Sins
+you must repent of them your self; for I give you my Word, I have enough
+to do to repent of my own.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> You will soon wipe off that Score, and will be then in a Place
+where you cannot contract a new one.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Indeed, Sir, to shut a Woman out from Sin is not so easy. But,
+dear Sir, how can it enter into your Head, that my Penance can be
+acceptable for your Sin? Take my Word, one Week's fasting will be of
+more Service to you than this long Fast you would enjoin me.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Alas! Child, if fasting would do, I am sure I have not been
+wanting to my Duty: I have fasted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> till I am almost worn away to
+nothing; I have almost fasted my self into Purgatory, while I was
+fasting my self out of it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> But whence comes all this Apprehension of your Danger?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Whence should it come, but from the Church.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! Sir, I have thought of the most lucky thing. You know, my
+Cousin <i>Beatrice</i> is just going into a Nunnery, and she will pray for
+you as much as you would have her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Trifle not with so serious a Concern. No Prayers but yours will
+ever do me good.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Then you shall have them any where but in a Nunnery.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> They must be there too.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> That will be impossible: for if I was there, instead of praying
+you out of Purgatory, my Prayers would be all bent to pray my self out
+of the Nunnery again.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE II.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon, Jourdain, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old. Lar.</i> A Dog, a Villain, put off my Son's Match. Mr. <i>Jourdain</i>,
+your Servant; will you suffer a Rogue of a Jesuit to defer your
+Daughter's Marriage a whole Week?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I am sorry, Mr. <i>Laroon</i>, for the Disappointment, but her
+Marriage will be deferred longer than that.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old. Lar.</i> How, Sir!</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> She is intended for another Marriage, Sir, a much better Match.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old. Lar.</i> A much better Match!&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Yes, Sir, I am to be sent to a Nunnery, to pray my Father out of
+Purgatory.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Oh! Ho!&mdash;We'll make that Matter very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> easy: he shall have no
+Fear of Purgatory; for I'll send him to the Devil this Moment. Come,
+Sir, draw, draw&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Draw what, Sir!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Draw your Sword, Sir.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Alas, Sir, I have long since done with Swords, I have broke my
+Sword long since.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Then I shall break your Head, you old Rogue.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Heyday&mdash;&mdash;you are mad; what's the Matter?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Oh! no matter, no matter, you have used me ill, and you are a
+Son of a Whore, that's all.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I wou'd not, Mr. <i>Laroon</i>, have my Conscience accuse me of
+using you ill: I would not have preferred any earthly Match to your Son,
+but if Heaven requires her&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> I shall run mad.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I hope my Daughter has Grace enough to make an Atonement for
+her Father's Sins.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> And so, you wou'd atone for all your former Rogueries, by a
+greater, by perverting the Design of Nature! Was this Girl intended for
+praying! Hearkee, old Gentleman, let the young Couple together, and
+they'll sacrifice their first Fruits to the Church.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> It is impossible.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Well, Sir, then I shall attempt to persuade you no longer;
+so, Sir, I desire you would fetch your Sword.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE III.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Young</i> Laroon <i>in a Friar's Habit</i>, <i>Old</i> Laroon, Jourdain.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Let Peace be in this House&mdash;&mdash;Where is the Sinner <i>Jourdain</i>?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Here is the miserable Wretch.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Death and the Devil, another Priest.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span><i>Y. Lar.</i> Then know I am thy Friend, and am come to save thee from
+Destruction.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> That's likely enough.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> St. <i>Francis</i> the Patron of our Order hath sent me on this
+Journey, to caution thee, that thou may not suffer thy sinful Daughter
+to profane the holy Veil. Such was it seems thy Purpose; but the
+Perdition that would have attended it I dread to think on. Rejoice
+therefore, and prostrate thy self at the Shrine of a Saint, who has not
+only sent thee this Caution, but does himself intercede for all thy
+Sins.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Agad! and St. <i>Francis</i> is a very honest Fellow, and thou art
+the first Priest that ever I lik'd in my whole Life.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> St. <i>Francis</i> honours me too much. I shall try to deserve the
+Favour of that Saint. But wherefore is my Daughter denied the holy Veil?</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Your Daughter, I am concerned to say it, is now with Child by
+a young Gentleman, one Mr. <i>Laroon</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh Heavens!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> What's that you say, Sir, because I thought I heard somewhat
+of a damn'd Lye come out of your Mouth.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Sir, it is St. <i>Francis</i> speaks within me, and he cannot be
+mistaken.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> I can tell you, Sir, if that young Gentleman had heard you,
+he would certainly have thrashed St. <i>Francis</i> out of you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Sir, you have nothing to do now, but to prepare the Match with
+the utmost Expedition.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> This St. <i>Francis</i> must lye, or the Boy would not be so eager
+upon the Affair: No one is ever eager to sign Articles when they have
+entered the Town.&mdash;&mdash;Well, Master <i>Jourdain</i>, if the young Dog has
+tripped up your Daughter's Heels in an unlawful way, as St. <i>Francis</i>
+says, why, he shall make her amends and&mdash;and do it in a lawful one. So
+I'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> go see for my Son, while you go and comfort the poor Chicken that
+is pining for fear of a Nunnery.&mdash;&mdash;Odsheart, it would be very hard
+indeed, when a Girl has once had her Belly full, that she must fast all
+her Life afterwards.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> I have deliver'd my Commission and shall now return to my
+Convent&mdash;&mdash;Farewel, and return Thanks to St. <i>Francis</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! St. <i>Francis</i>! St. <i>Francis</i>! What a merciful Saint art
+thou!</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE IV. <i>Another Apartment.</i></span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Martin, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> No, but I know what I am not design'd for.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Let me feel your Pulse.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> You are a Physician as well as a Priest, I suppose.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Have you never any odd Dreams?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> No.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Do you never find any strange Emotions?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> No. None but what I believe are very natural.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Strange that!&mdash;&mdash;Did you never see me in your Sleep?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I never dream of a Priest, I assure you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span><i>Isa.</i> What do you mean?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> That you must not yet know&mdash;Great things are design'd for you,
+very great things are designed for you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> (Hum! I begin to guess what is design'd for me.)</p>
+<p class="right">[<i>Aside.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Those Eyes have a Fire in them that scarce seems mortal. Come
+hither&mdash;&mdash;give me a Kiss&mdash;&mdash;ha! there is a Sweetness in that Breath like
+what I've read of <i>Ambrosia</i>. That Bosom heaves like those of
+Priestesses of old, when big with Inspiration.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> (Haity-tity&mdash;&mdash;Are you thereabouts good Father?)</p>
+<p class="right">[<i>Aside.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Let me embrace thee, my dear Daughter, let me give thee Joy of
+such Promotion, such Happiness as will attend you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I'll try this reverend Gentleman his own way.</p>
+<p class="right">[<i>Aside.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> You must resign your self up to my Will, you must be passive in
+all things.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! let me thus beg Pardon, on my Knees, for an Offence which
+Modesty occasioned.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Ha! speak.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! I see it is in vain to hide my Secrets from you. What need
+have I to confess what you already know?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Confession was intended for the sake of the Penitent, not the
+Confessor: for to the Church all things are revealed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! then I had a Dream&mdash;&mdash;I dreamt&mdash;&mdash;I dreamt&mdash;&mdash;oh! I can never
+tell you what I dreamt.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Horrible!</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I dreamt&mdash;I dreamt&mdash;I dreamt&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh! the Strength of Sin!</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I dreamt I was brought to bed of the Pope.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> The very Happiness I meant, let me embrace you, let me kiss you,
+my dear Daughter: Henceforth you may defy Purgatory&mdash;the Mother of a
+Pope was never there.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span><i>Isa.</i> But how can that be, when I am to be a Nun, Father?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Father, I shall be obedient&mdash;oh! the Villain!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Be passive and be happy.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE V.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Jourdain, Martin, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Ha! Why this unseasonable Interruption, while your Daughter is
+at Confession?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh, Father, I have brought you News will make you happy, will
+rejoice your poor Heart. My Daughter is redeemed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Out of Purgatory&mdash;&mdash;vain Man! dost thou think to inform the
+Church?&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I suppose St. <i>Francis</i> has been beforehand with me. Indeed I
+should have imagined that before: for we seldom hear any thing from the
+Saints, but thro' the Mouth of a Priest.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> (What does he mean?)</p>
+<p class="right">[<i>Aside.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Well, Daughter, the Thoughts of a Nunnery now give you no
+Uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> No, no, she is perfectly reconciled to it, and I am confident,
+would not quit the Nunnery for the Bed of a Prince.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Ha! would not quit the Nunnery, Heaven forbid.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> How! you are not mad!</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Unless with Joy. I thought you had known that I have received
+an Order from St. <i>Francis</i>, to marry my Daughter immediately.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span><i>Mart.</i> Oh! Folly! to marry her immediately; why ay, to marry her to the
+Church, St. <i>Francis</i> means. You see into what Errors the Laity run,
+when they go without the Leading-strings of the Church, and would
+interpret for themselves what they know nothing of.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I'll take this Opportunity to steal off, and communicate a Design
+of mine to young <i>Laroon</i>, which may draw this Priest into a Snare he
+little dreams of.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> But I cannot see how that should be St. Francis's Meaning: For
+tho' my Daughter may be married to the Church in a figurative Sense,
+sure, she cannot be with Child by the Church in a literal one.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I see the Business now, unhappy Man! I was in Hopes to have
+prevented this&mdash;&mdash;<i>Exorcizo te, Exorcizo te,</i> Satan. <i>Ton Dapamibominos
+prosephe podas ocus Achilleus</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Bless us, what mean you?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> You are possessed; the Devil has taken possession of you; he is
+now within you, I saw him just now look out of your Eyes.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> O miserable Wretch that I am!</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VI.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon, <i>Young</i> Laroon, Jourdain, Martin.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Mr. <i>Jourdain</i>, your Servant. Where is my Daughter-in-law:
+I'll warrant she will easily forgive one Day's forwarding the Match.
+Odso, it's an Error of the right side.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Talk not to me of my Daughter, I am possessed, I am possessed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Possessed&mdash;what the Devil are you possessed with.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I am possessed with the Devil.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> You are possessed with a Priest, and that's worse. Come,
+let's have the Wedding, and at Night,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> we'll drive the Devil out of you
+with a Fidle. The Devil is a great Lover of Musick. I have known half a
+Dozen Devils dance out of a Man's Mouth at the tuning a Violin, then
+present the Company with a Hornpipe, and so dance a Jig through the
+Keyhole.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Thou art the Devil's Son; for he is the Father of Lyars.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Thou art the Devil's Footman, and wearest his proper Livery.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Fy upon you, Mr. <i>Laroon</i>; Fy upon you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Mr. <i>Laroon</i>! O surprizing Effect of Possession&mdash;&mdash;Here is no
+Body.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Can I not believe my Eyes?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Can you not! no&mdash;you are to believe mine. The Eyes of the Laity
+may err, the Eyes of a Priest cannot.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> And do I not see Mr. <i>Laroon</i> and his Son!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> You see neither. It is the Spirit within you that represents to
+your Eyes and Ears what Objects it pleases.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! miserable Wretch.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Agad I'll try whether I am no Body or no, and whether I
+cannot make this Priest sensible that I am somebody.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> For Heaven's sake, Sir, consider the Consequence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Consequence! Do you think I'll suffer a Rascal to prove me
+nothing at all to my Face?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> And is it possible all this is a Vision?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Retire to Rest&mdash;&mdash;while I by the Force and Battery of Prayer,
+expel this dreadful Guest.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! what a miserable Wretch am I!</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VII.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon, <i>Young</i> Laroon, Martin.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Hearkee, Sir, will you please to tell me what this great
+Impudence of yours means? and what you would intend by Annihilating me.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> It were happy for such Sinners that they cou'd be annihilated:
+It were worth you two hundred thousand Masses, take my Word for it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> It were happy for such Rascals as you, Sirrah, that all
+Honesty was annihilated.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> But pray, Father, what Reasons have you for preventing my
+Match with <i>Isabel</i>?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Reasons, young Gentleman, that are not proper for your Ears.
+<i>Isabel</i> is intended for a better Bridegroom than you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> How, Sirrah! how! Do you disparage my Son? Do you run down my
+Boy? Hearkee, either make up Affairs between them immediately, exert thy
+self in thy proper office and hold the Door, or I'll blow up thy
+Convent; I'll burn your Garrison, and disband such a Set of black
+Locusts as shall rob and pillage all <i>Toulon</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I contemn thy Threats. The Saints defend their Ministers.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> The Saints defend their Ministers! the Laws defend them: St.
+Wheel, and St. Prison, and St. Gibbet, and St. Faggot; these are the
+Saints that defend you. If you had no Defence but from the Saints in the
+other World, you wou'd few of you stay long in this. If you had no other
+Arms than your Beads, you would have shortly no other Food.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh Slanderous! Oh impious! some Judgment cannot be far off.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> When a Priest is so near&mdash;Sirrah!</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VIII.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Isabel, <i>to them</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Daughter, fly from this wicked Place; the Breath of Sin has
+infected it, and two Gallons of Holy Water will scarce purify the Air.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! Heavens! What's the Matter, Father?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Why the Matter is, this Gentleman in Black here, for Reasons
+best known to himself, and another Gentleman in Black, has thought fit
+to forbid your Marriage.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> What the Saints please.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Hoity-toity! What, has he fill'd your Head with the Saints
+too?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh Sir! I have had such Dreams.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Dreams! Ha, ha, ha: The Devil's in it, if a Girl just going
+to be married should not have Dreams. But they were Dreams the Saints
+had nothing to do with, I warrant you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Such Visions of Saints appearing to me, and advising me to a
+Nunnery.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Impossible! Impossible! for I have had Visions too: I have
+been order'd by half a Dozen Saints to see you married with the utmost
+Expedition; and a very honest Saint, whose Name I forget, came to me
+about an Hour ago, and swore heartily if you were not married within
+this Week, he'd lead you to Purgatory in a Fortnight.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh! grievous!</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Can there be such Contradictions?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Pshaw! Pshaw! Yours was a Dream, and so to be understood
+backwards; Mine, a true Vision, therefore to be believ'd. Why, Child, I
+have been a famous Seer of Visions in my Time. Wou'd you believe it?
+While I was in the Army, there never was a Battle, but I saw it some
+time beforehand. I have had an intimate Familiarity with the Saints, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+know them all: There is not one of them cou'd be capable of saying such
+a thing.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! Sir, I saw, and heard, and must believe, for none but the
+Church can contradict our Senses.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old. Lar.</i> So, so! the Distemper's hereditary, I find: the Daughter is
+as full of the Church as the Father. Come away, Son, come away: I would
+not have thee marry into such a Family, I shou'd be Grand-father to a
+Race of greasy Priests. 'Sdeath! this Girl will be brought to bed of a
+Pope one Day or other.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> 'Tis out, 'tis out.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh prodigious! That such a Saint shou'd prophesy Truth through
+those Lips, whence the Devil has been thundring so many Lyes.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> What Truth, Sir, what Truth?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! Sir, the Blessing you mentioned, has been promised me! I am
+to give a Pope to the World.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Remember, my <i>Isabel</i>, I only live in the Hopes of seeing you
+mine.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE IX.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Martin, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> It were better thou shouldst howl in Purgatory ten thousand
+Years, than ever see that Day. Oh! that we had but an Inquisition in
+<i>France</i>. 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.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> 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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> Purge for a sick Soul, and a Heretick is obliged
+to the Priest who applies it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> 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&mdash;&mdash;Ha! there is something Divine in these Lips, let me
+taste them again; are you sure you have drank no Holy Water this
+Morning?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> None, upon my Word.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Let me smell a third time. There. <i>Numero Deus impare gaudet.</i>
+Depend on it, Child, very great Happiness will attend you. But be sure
+to observe my Directions in every thing.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I shall, Father. I did as you commanded me this Morning.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Well, and did you perceive any great Alterations in your self?
+Any extraordinary Emotion?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I cannot say I did.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh lud! Father, I shall be frightned out of my Wits at the Sight
+of a Spirit.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> You will see nothing frightful, take my Word for it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I hope he won't appear in any horrible Shape.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Hum&mdash;That is to be averted by <i>Ave Maries</i>. 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.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span><i>Isa.</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> And if any thing be wanting on mine, may I never say Mass again,
+or never be paid for Masses I have not said. Either this Girl has
+extraordinary Simplicity, or what is more likely, extraordinary Cunning;
+she does not seem averse to my Kisses. Why should I not imagine she sees
+and approves my Design. Well, I'll say this for the Sex: Let a Man but
+invent any Excuse for the Sin, and they are all ready to undertake it.
+How happy is a Priest,</p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 3em;">Who can the blushing Maid's Resistance smother,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">With Sin in one Hand, Pardon in the other.</span></p>
+
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/grey1003A.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="big">ACT III. SCENE I.</span></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">SCENE, Isabel'<i>s Apartment</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Young</i> Laroon, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Young</i> <span class="smcap">Laroon</span>.</p>
+
+<p class="cap">Perdition seize the Villain, may all the Torments of twenty Inquisitions
+wrack his Soul.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Act your Part well, and we shall not want his own Weapons against
+him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Sure it is impossible he can intend it&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Shall I make the Experiment?</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> I shall never be able to forbear murdering him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> You shall promise not to commit any Violence, you know too well
+what wou'd be the Consequence of that. Let us sufficiently convict him,
+and leave his Punishment to the Law.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span><i>Yo. Lar.</i> And I know too well what will be the Consequence of that.
+There seems to be a Combination between Priests and Lawyers; the Lawyers
+are to save the Priests from Punishment for their Rogueries in this
+World, and the Priests the Lawyers in the next.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> However, the same Law that screens him for having injured you,
+will punish you for having done Justice to him.</p>
+<p class="right">[<i>Knocking at the Door.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! Heavens! the Priest is at the Door. What shall we do?</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Damn him: I'll stay here and confront him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! No, by no means: For once, I'll attack him in his own Way; so
+the Moment he opens the Door, do you run out and leave the rest to me.</p>
+
+<p class="right">[<i>She throws her self into a Chair, and shrieks.</i> <i>Young</i> Laroon
+<i>overturns</i> Martin.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE II.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Martin, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I am slain, I am overlaid, I am murdered. Oh! Daughter,
+Daughter, is this your patient Expectation of the Spirit?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> It has been here: It has been here.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> What has been here?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! the Spirit, the Spirit. It has been here this half Hour, and
+just as you came in, it vanished away in a Clap of Thunder, and I
+thought would have taken the Room with it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I thought it would have taken me with it, I am sure. Spirit
+indeed! There are abundance of such Spirits as these in <i>Toulon</i>. And
+pray, how have the Spirit and you employed your time this half Hour?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! don't ask me: It is impossible to tell you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Ay, 'tis needless too: for I can give a shrewd Guess. I suppose
+you like his Company.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span><i>Isa.</i> Oh! so well! That I could wish he would visit me ten Times every
+Day.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh, Ho! And in the same Shape too.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Oh! I shou'd like him in any Shape, and I dare swear he'll come
+in any Shape too: For he is the purest, sweetest, most complaisant
+Spirit: I could have almost sworn it had been Mr. <i>Laroon</i> himself.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Was there ever such a&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Nay, when it came in first, it behaved just like Mr. <i>Laroon</i>,
+and call'd it self by his Name; but when it found I did not answer a
+Word, it took me by the Hand, and cry'd, is it possible you can be angry
+with your <i>Laroon</i>! I answer'd not a Word; then it kissed me a hundred
+times; I said nothing still; it caught me in its Arms, and embrac'd me
+Passionately; I still behaved as you commanded me, very passive.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh! the Devil, the Devil! Was ever Man so caught. And did you
+never apprehend it to be Mr. <i>Laroon</i> himself?</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Heaven forbid, I should have suffered Mr. <i>Laroon</i> in those
+Familiarities, which you order'd me to allow the Spirit.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I am caught indeed. Damn'd driveling Idiot!</p>
+<p class="right">[<i>Aside.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> But, dear Father, tell me, shall I not see it again quickly? For
+I long to see it again.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh! Yes, yes&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I long to see it in the dark (methinks) for you know, Father, one
+sees Spirits best in the dark.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Ay, ay, you'll see it in the dark, I warrant you; but be sure
+and behave as you did before.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> And will he always behave as he did before, Father?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Hum! Be in your Chamber this Evening at Eight; take care there
+be no Light in the Room, and perhaps the Spirit may pay you a second
+Visit.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I'll be sure to be punctual.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> And passive.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span><i>Isa.</i> I'll obey you in every thing.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Senseless Oaf. But tho' I have lost the first Fruits by her
+extreme Folly, yet am I highly delighted with it; and if I do not make a
+notable use of it I am no Priest.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE III.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Jourdain <i>solus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! Purgatory! Purgatory! What wou'd I not give to escape thy Flames!
+(methinks) I feel them already. Hark! what Noise is that?&mdash;Nothing&mdash;Ha!
+what's that I see? Something with two Heads&mdash;&mdash;What can all this
+portend?&mdash;&mdash;What a poor miserable Wretch am I?</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Enter Servant.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Serv.</i> Sir, a Friar below desires to speak with you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Why will you suffer a Man of Holy Order to wait a Moment at my
+Door? Bring him in.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps he is some Messenger of Comfort. But Oh! I rather fear the
+reverse: For what Comfort can a Sinner like me expect?</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE IV.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon <i>in a Friar's Habit</i>, Jourdain.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> A Plague attend this House and all that are in it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! Oh!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Art thou that miserable, sad, poor Son of a Whore,
+<i>Jourdain</i>?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Alas! Alas!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> If thou art he, I have a Message to thee from St. <i>Francis</i>.
+The Saint gives his humble Service to you, and bid me tell you, You are
+one of the saddest Dogs that ever liv'd; for having disobey'd his
+Orders, and attempted to put your Daughter into a Nunnery: For which he
+has given me positive Orders to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> assure you, you shall lie in Purgatory
+five hundred thousand Years.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> And I assure you it is a very warm sort of a Place; for I
+call'd there as I came along to take Lodgings for you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! Heavens! is it possible! that you can have seen the
+dreadful Horrors of that Place?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Seen them! Ha, ha, ha, why, I have been there half a dozen
+times in a Day: Why, how far do you take it to be to Purgatory? Not
+above a Mile and half at farthest, and every Step of the way down Hill.
+Seen them! ay, ay, I have seen them, and a pretty Sight they are too, a
+pretty tragical sort of a Sight; if it were not for the confounded Heat
+of the Air&mdash;&mdash;then there is the prettiest Consort of Musick.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! Heavens! Musick!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Ay, ay, Groans, Groans, a fine Consort of Groans, you would
+think your self at an Opera, if it were not for the great Heat of the
+Air, as I said before; some Spirits are shut up in Ovens, some are
+chain'd to Spits, some are scatter'd in Frying-pans&mdash;and I have taken up
+a Place for you on a Gridiron.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! I am scorch'd, I am scorch'd&mdash;For Pity's sake, Father,
+intercede with St. <i>Francis</i> for me: Compassionate my Case&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> There is but one way, let me carry him the News of your
+Daughter's Marriage, that may perhaps appease him. Between you and I,
+St. <i>Francis</i> is a liquorish old Dog, and loves to set People to work to
+his Heart.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> She shall be married this Instant, the Saint must know it is
+none of my Fault: Had I rightly understood his Will, it had been long
+since performed&mdash;But well might I misinterpret him, when even the
+Church, when Father <i>Martin</i> fail'd.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> I wou'd be very glad to know where I should find that same
+Father <i>Martin</i>. I have a small<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> Commission to him relating to a
+Purgatory Affair. St. <i>Francis</i> has sentenced him to lie in a Frying-pan
+there, just six hundred Years, for his Amour with your Daughter.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> My Daughter!</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Are you ignorant of it then? Did not you know that he had
+debauched your Daughter?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Ignorant! oh! Heavens! no Wonder she is refused the Veil.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> I thought you had known it. I'll shew you a Sight worse than
+Purgatory it self. You shall behold this Disgrace to the Church; a Sight
+shall make you shudder.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Is it possible a Priest should be such a Villain?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Nothing's impossible to the Church you know.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> And may I hope St. <i>Francis</i> will be appeas'd.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Hum! There is a great Favourite of that Saint who lives in
+this Town, his Name is Monsieur <i>Laroon</i>. If you could get him to say
+half a Dozen Bead-Rolls for you, they might be of great Service.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> How! Can the Saint regard so loose a Liver?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Oh! St. <i>Francis</i> loves an honest merry Fellow to his Soul.
+And hearkee, I don't think it impossible for Mr. <i>Laroon</i> to bring you
+acquainted with the Saint; for to my Knowledge, they very often crack a
+Bottle together.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Can I believe it?</p>
+
+<p><i>Serv.</i> Father <i>Martin</i> is below.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Son, behave civilly to him, nor mention a Word of what I have
+told you&mdash;that we may entrap him more securely.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE V.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Martin, <i>to them</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Peace be with my Son. Ha! a Friar here! I like not this, I will
+have no Partners in my Plunder. Save you, reverend Father.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> <i>Tu quoque.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> This Fellow should be a Jesuit by his Taciturnity. You see,
+Father, the miserable State of our poor Son.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> I have advis'd him thereon.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Your Advice is kind, tho' needless. He hath not wanted Prayer,
+Fasting, nor Castigation, which are proper Physick for him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Or suppose, Father, he was to go to a Ball. What think you of
+a Ball?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> A Ball?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Ay, or a Wench now; suppose, we were to procure him a Wench.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh! monstrous! Oh! impious!&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> I only give my Opinion.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Thy Opinion is damnable. And thou art some Wolf in Sheep's
+clothing. Thou art a Scandal to thy Order.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> I wish thou art not more a Scandal to thine, Brother Father,
+to abuse a poor old Fellow in a Fit of the Spleen here as thou dost,
+with a Set of ridiculous Notions of Purgatory and the Devil knows what,
+when both you and I know there is no such thing.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> That I should not know thee before. Don't you know this reverend
+Father, Son? Your worthy Neighbour <i>Laroon</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Then farewel, Hypocrisy. I wou'd not wear thy Cloke another
+Hour for any Consideration.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> What do I see?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span><i>Old Lar.</i> Why you see a very honest Neighbour of yours, that has try'd
+to deliver you out of the Claws of a roguish Priest, whom you may see
+too; look in the Glass and you may see an old doating Fool, who is
+afraid of his own Shadow.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Be not concerned at this, Son. Perhaps, one Hour's suffering
+from this Fellow, may strike off several Years of Purgatory; I have
+known such Instances.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! Father! Didst thou know what I have been guilty of
+believing against thee, from the Mouth of this wicked Man?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Death and the Devil, I'll stay no longer here; for if I do, I
+shall cut this Priest's Throat, tho' the Rack was before my Face.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VI.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Martin, Jourdain.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Son, take care of believing any thing against the Church: It is
+as sinful to believe any thing against the Church, as to disbelieve any
+thing for it. You are to believe what the Church tells you, and no more.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I almost shudder when I think what I believed against you. I
+believed that you had seduced my Daughter.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Oh! horrible! and did you believe it? Think not you believed it.
+I order you to think you did not believe it, and it were now sinful to
+believe you did believe it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> And can I think so.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Certainly. I know what you believe better than you your self do.
+However, that your Mind may be cleansed from the least Pollution of
+Thought&mdash;go say over ten Bead-Rolls immediately, go and Peace attend
+you&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I am exceedingly comforted within.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VII.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Martin <i>solus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Go. While I retire and comfort your Daughter. Was this a Suspicion of
+<i>Laroon</i>'s, or am I betrayed? I begin to fear. I'll act with Caution,
+for I am not able yet to discover whether this Girl be of prodigious
+Simplicity or Cunning. How vain is Policy, when the little Arts of a
+Woman are superior to the Wisdom of a Conclave. A Priest may cheat
+Mankind, but a Woman would cheat the Devil.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE VIII. <i>The Street.</i></span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon, <i>Young</i> Laroon <i>meet</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Well, Sir, what Success?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Success! you Rascal! If ever you offer to put me into a
+Priest's Skin again, I'll beat you out of your own.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> What's the Matter, Sir?</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Matter, Sir? Why I have been laughed at, have been abused.
+'Sdeath! Sir! I am in such a Passion, that I do not believe I shall come
+to my self again these twenty Years. That Rascal <i>Martin</i> discovered me
+in an Instant, and turned me into a Jest.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Be comforted, Sir, you may yet have the Pleasure of turning
+him into one.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Nothing less than turning him inside out.&mdash;&mdash;Nothing less
+than broiling his Gizzard will satisfy me.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Come with me, and I dare swear, I'll give your Revenge
+Content. We have laid a Snare for him, which I think it is impossible he
+should escape.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> A Snare for a Priest! a Trap for the Devil! You will as soon
+catch the one as the other.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> I am sure our Bait is good&mdash;&mdash;A fine Woman is as good a Bait
+for a Priest-trap, as toasted Cheese is for a Mouse-trap.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span><i>Old Lar.</i> Yes, but the Rascal will nibble off twenty Baits before you
+can take him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Leave that to us. I'll warrant our Success.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Wilt thou? then I shall have more Pleasure in taking this one
+Priest, than in all the other wild Beasts I have ever taken.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE IX.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">Jourdain, Isabel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> If I don't convince you he's a Villain, renounce me for your
+Daughter. Do not shut your Ears against Truth, and you shall want no
+other Evidence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh, Daughter, Daughter, some Evil Spirit is busy with you. The
+same Spirit that visited me this Morning, is now in you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I wish the Spirit that is in me wou'd visit you, you wou'd kick
+this Rogue out of Doors.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> The wicked Reason of your Anger is too plain. The Priest won't
+let you have your Fellow.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> The Priest would have me for himself.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Oh! wicked Assertion! Oh! base Return for the Care he has taken
+of your poor sinful Father, for the Love he has shewn for your Soul.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> He has shewn more Love for my Body, believe me, Sir. Nay, go but
+with me, and you shall believe your own Eyes and Ears.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Against the Church, Heaven forbid!</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Will you not believe your own Senses, Sir?</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Not when the Church contradicts them.&mdash;Alas! How do we know
+what we believe without the Church? Why I thought I saw Mr. <i>Laroon</i> and
+his Son to-day, when I saw neither. Alack-a-day, Child, the Church often
+contradicts our Senses. But you owe these wicked Thoughts to your
+Education in <i>England</i>, that vile heretical Country, where every Man
+believes what Religion he pleases, and most believe none.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Well, Sir, if you will not be convinced, you shall be the only
+Person in <i>Toulon</i> that is not.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span><i>Jourd.</i> I will go with thee, if it were only to see how far this wicked
+Spirit will carry his Imposition; for I am convinced the Devil will
+leave no Stone unturn'd to work my Destruction.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> I hope you will find us too hard for him and his Ambassador too.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE X. <i>Another Apartment.</i></span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Young</i> Laroon <i>in Woman's Clothes</i>.</p>
+
+<p>None ever waited with more Impatience for her Lover than I for mine. It
+is a delightful Assignation, but I hope it is a Prelude to one more
+agreeable. I shall have Difficulty to refrain from beating the Rascal
+before he has discover'd himself&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="right">[<i>Knocking at the Door.</i>]</p>
+
+<p>Who's there?</p>
+<p class="right">[<i>Softly.</i>]</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> <i>Isabel, Isabel.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Come in. What a soft Voice the Rogue caterwauls in.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE XI.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Young</i> Laroon, Beatrice.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> What are you doing in the Dark, my Dear?</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Heyday, who the Devil is this? I seem to be in a way of an
+Assignation in earnest.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> <i>Isabel</i>, where are you?</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Here, Child, give me your Hand. Dear Mademoiselle <i>Beatrice</i>,
+is it you?</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> Oh Heavens! am I in a Man's Arms?</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Hush! hush!&mdash;--Don't you know my Voice&mdash;&mdash;I am <i>Laroon</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> Mr. <i>Laroon</i>! What Business can you have here?</p>
+
+<p><i>Y. Lar.</i> Ask me no Questions, get but into a Corner of the Room and be
+silent, and you will perhaps see a very diverting Scene. Nay, do not be
+afraid, for I assure you, it will be a very innocent one; make haste,
+dear Madam, you will do a very laudable Action, by being an additional
+Evidence to the Discovery of a notorious Villain.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span><i>Bea.</i> I cannot guess your Meaning, but would willingly assist on such
+an Occasion.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Now for my desiring Lover. Ha! I think I hear him.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE XII.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Young</i> Laroon, Martin.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> <i>Isabel</i>, <i>Isabel</i>, where are you?</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Here.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Come to my Arms, my Angel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> I hope you are in no frightful Shape.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I am in the Shape of that very good Man thy Confessor, honest
+Father <i>Martin</i>. Let me embrace thee, my Love, my Charmer.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Bless me, what do you mean?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> 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&mdash;Tread softly, my
+dearest, sweetest! This Night shall make thee Mother to a Pope.</p>
+<p class="right">[Laroon <i>leads him out.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE XIII. <i>Another Apartment.</i></span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon, Jourdain, Isabel, <i>a Priest</i>, <i>Young</i> Laroon, Martin,
+<i>and</i> Beatrice.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Whither would you pull me?</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Villain, I'll shew thee whither.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> Ha!</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Down on thy Knees, confess thy self the worst of Villains, or
+I'll drive this Dagger to thy Heart.</p>
+
+<p><i>Priest.</i> He needs not confess, our Ears are sufficient Witnesses
+against him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Huzzah! Huzzah! The Priest is caught, the Priest is caught.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I am Thunder-struck with Amazement.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> How durst you attempt to debauch my Son, you black Rascal: I
+have a great Mind to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> an Example of you for attempting to dishonour
+my Family.</p>
+
+<p><i>Priest.</i> You shall be made a severe Example of for having dishonour'd
+your Order.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> I shall find another time to answer you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Hold, Sir, hold. I have too much Charity not to cleanse you,
+as much as possible, from your Pollution. So, Who's there? [<i>Enter
+Servants.</i>] Here take this worthy Gentleman, and wash him a little in a
+Horse-pond, then toss him dry in a Blanket.</p>
+
+<p><i>1 Serv.</i> We will wash him with a Vengeance.</p>
+
+<p><i>All.</i> Ay, ay, we'll wash him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mart.</i> You may repent this, Mr. <i>Laroon</i>.</p>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><span class="big">SCENE <i>the Last</i>.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Old</i> Laroon, <i>Young</i> Laroon, Jourdain, <i>Priest</i>, Isabel, <i>and</i>
+Beatrice.</p>
+
+<p><i>Priest.</i> Tho' he deserves the worst, yet consider his Order, Mr.
+<i>Laroon</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Sir, he shall undergo the Punishment, tho' I suffer the like
+afterwards. Well, Master <i>Jourdain</i>, I hope you are now convinced, that
+you may marry your Daughter without going to Purgatory for it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> I hope you will pardon what is past, my good Neighbour. And
+you, young Gentleman, will, I hope, do the same. If my Girl can make you
+any amends, I give you her for ever.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. Lar.</i> Amends! Oh! She would make me large Amends for twenty
+thousand times my Sufferings.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Tell me so hereafter, my dear Lover. A Woman may make a Man
+amends for his Sufferings before Marriage; but can she make him amends
+for what he suffers after it?</p>
+
+<p><i>Yo. La.</i> Oh! think not that can ever be my Fate with you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Pox o' your Raptures. If you don't make her suffer before
+to-morrow-morning, thou art no Son of mine, and if she does not make you
+suffer within this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> Twelve-month: Blood she is no Woman&mdash;Come, honest
+Neighbour, I hope thou hast discovered thy own Folly and the Priest's
+Roguery together, and thou wilt return and be one of us again.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jourd.</i> Mr. <i>Laroon</i>, if I have err'd on one side, you have err'd as
+widely on the other. Let me tell you, a Reflexion on the Sins of your
+Youth would not be unwholesome.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> 'Sblood Sir! but it wou'd. Reflexion is the most unwholesome
+thing in the World. Besides, Sir, I have no Sins to reflect on but those
+of an honest Fellow. If I have lov'd a Whore at five and twenty, and a
+Bottle at forty; Why, I have done as much good as I could, in my
+Generation; and that, I hope, will make amends.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> Well, my dear <i>Beatrice</i>, and are you positively bent on a
+Nunnery still?</p>
+
+<p><i>Bea.</i> Hum! I suppose you will laugh at me, if I shou'd change my
+Resolution; but I have seen so much of a Priest to-day, that I really
+believe, I shall spend my Life in the Company of a Lay-man.</p>
+
+<p><i>Old Lar.</i> Why, that is bravely said, Madam, S'bud! I like you, and if I
+had not resolv'd, for the Sake of this Rascal here, never to marry
+again, S'bud! I might take you into my Arms: And I can tell you, they
+are as warm as any young Fellow's in <i>Europe</i>&mdash;Come, Master <i>Jourdain</i>,
+this Night, you and I will crack a Bottle together, and to-morrow
+morning we will employ this honest Gentleman here, to tack our Son and
+Daughter together, and then I don't care if I never see a Priest again
+as long as I live.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isa.</i> [to <i>Yo. Lar.</i>] Well, Sir. You see we have got the better of all
+Difficulties at last. The Fears of a Lover are very unreasonable, when
+he is once assured of the Sincerity of his Mistress,</p>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left: 3em;">For when a Woman sets her self about it,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Nor Priest, nor Devil can make her go without it.</span></p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="big"><i>FINIS.</i></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class="center"><span class="big">Transcriber's Notes:</span></p>
+
+
+<p>
+Inconsistencies in spelling have been retained from the original.<br />
+<br />
+Obvious typographical errors have been corrected as follows:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Page 37: Assignanation changed to Assignation</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732), by 
+Henry  Fielding
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+</pre>
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+</body>
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+Project Gutenberg's The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732), by Henry  Fielding
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732)
+
+Author: Henry  Fielding
+
+Release Date: November 4, 2011 [EBook #37923]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OLD DEBAUCHEES. A COMEDY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Delphine Lettau, Joseph Cooper, David E. Brown
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  THE
+  _Old DEBAUCHEES._
+
+  A
+  COMEDY.
+
+  As it is Acted at the THEATRE-ROYAL
+  in DRURY-LANE.
+
+  By His MAJESTY's Servants.
+
+  By the Author of the MODERN HUSBAND.
+
+
+
+
+  _LONDON_:
+
+  Printed for J. W. And Sold by J. ROBERTS in
+
+  _Warwick-Lane_, MDCCXXXII.
+
+  [Price One Shilling.]
+
+
+
+
+PROLOGUE.
+
+Spoken by Mr. _William Mills_.
+
+
+_I Wish, with all my Heart, the Stage and Town
+Would both agree to cry all Prologues down;
+That we, no more oblig'd to say or sing,
+Might drop this useless necessary Thing:
+No more with aukward Strut, before the Curtain,
+Chaunt out some Rhimes--there's neither good nor hurt in._
+
+  _What is this Stuff the Poets make us deal in,
+But some old worn-out Jokes of their Retailing:
+From Sages of our own, or former Times,
+Transvers'd from Prose, perhaps transpros'd from Rhimes._
+
+  _How long the Tragick Muse her Station kept,             }
+How Guilt was humbl'd, and how Tyrants wept,               }
+Forgetting still how often Hearers slept._                 }
+
+  _Perhaps, for Change, you, now and then, by Fits,
+Are told that Criticks are the Bane of Wits;
+How they turn Vampyres, being dead and damn'd,
+And with the Blood of living Bards are cramm'd:
+That Poets thus tormented die, and then
+The Devil gets in them, and they suck agen._
+
+  _Thus modern Bards, like Bays, their Prologues frame,    }
+For this, and that, and every Play the same,               }
+Which you, most justly, neither praise nor blame._         }
+
+  _As something must be spoke, no matter what;
+No Friends are now by Prologues lost or got;
+By such Harangues we raise nor Spleen, nor Pity--
+Thus ends this idle, but important Ditty._
+
+
+
+
+Dramatis Personae.
+
+
+MEN.
+
+_Old Laroon._          Mr. _Shepard_.
+_Young Laroon._        Mr. _Mills_, Junior.
+_Father Martin._       Mr. _Cibber_, Junior.
+_Old Jourdain._        Mr. _Roberts_.
+
+
+WOMEN.
+
+_Isabel._              Miss _Raftor_.
+_Beatrice._            Miss _Williams_.
+
+
+SCENE _THOULON_.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+_Old DEBAUCHEES._
+
+
+
+
+ACT I. SCENE I.
+
+SCENE, _Mr._ Jourdain'_s_.
+
+Isabel, Beatrice.
+
+  ISABEL.
+
+A Nunnery! Ha, ha, ha! And is it possible, my dear _Beatrice_, you can
+intend to sacrifice your Youth and Beauty, to go out of the World as
+soon as you come into it!
+
+_Bea._ No one, my dear _Isabel_, can sacrifice too much or too soon to
+Heaven.
+
+_Isa._ Pshaw! Heaven regards Hearts and not Faces, and an old Woman will
+be as acceptable a Sacrifice as a young one.
+
+_Bea._ It is possible you may come to a better Understanding, and value
+the World as little as I do.
+
+_Isa._ As you say, it is possible when I can enjoy it no longer, I may;
+nay, I do not care if I promise you when I grow old and ugly, I'll come
+and keep you Company: But this I am positive, till the World is weary of
+me, I never shall be weary of the World.
+
+_Bea._ What can a Woman of Sense see in it worth her valuing?
+
+_Isa._ Oh! ten thousand pretty things! Equipage, Cards, Musick, Plays,
+Balls, Flattery, Visits, and that prettiest thing of all pretty things,
+a pretty Fellow----I rather wonder what Charms a Woman of any Spirit can
+fancy in a Nunnery, in watching, working, praying, and sometimes, I am
+afraid, wishing for other Company than that of an old fusty Friar--Oh!
+'tis a delightful State, when every Man one sees, instead of tempting us
+to Sin, is to rebuke us for them.
+
+_Bea._ Such Sentiments as these would indeed make you very uneasy--but
+believe me, Child, you would soon bring yourself to hate Mankind;
+fasting and praying are the best Cures in the World for these violent
+Passions.
+
+_Isa._ On my Conscience I should want neither; if the continual Sight of
+a Set of dirty Priests would not bring me to abhor Mankind, I dare swear
+nothing could.
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, Isabel, Beatrice.
+
+_Old Lar._ Good-morrow, my little Wag-tail--my Grashopper, my Butterfly.
+Odso! you little Baggage, you look as full of----as full of Love and
+Sport and Wantonness----I wish I was a young Fellow again----Oh! that I
+was but five and twenty for thy sake. Where's my Boy? What, has not he
+been with you, has not he serenaded you?--Odsheart--I never let his
+Mother sleep for a Month before I married her.
+
+_Isa._ Indeed!
+
+_Old Lar._ No Madam, nor for a Month afterwards neither. The young
+Fellows of this Age are nothing, mere Butterflies, to those of
+ours----Odsheart I remember the Time, when I could have taken a Hop,
+Step, and Jump over the Steeple of _Notre Dame_.
+
+_Bea._ I fancy the Sparks of your Age had Wings, Sir.
+
+_Old Lar._ Wings, you little Baggage, no--but they had--they had Limbs,
+like Elephants, and as strong they were as _Sampson_, and as swift
+as----Why, I have my self run down a Stag in a fair Chace, and eat him
+afterwards for my Dinner. But come, where is my old Neighbour, my old
+Friend, my old _Jourdain_?
+
+_Isa._ At his Devotions, I suppose, this is the Hour he generally
+employs in them.
+
+_Old Lar._ This Hour! ay, all Hours. I dare swear he spends more Time in
+them, than all the Priests in _Toulon_. Well, give him his due, he was
+wicked as long as he could be so, and when he could sin no longer, why
+he began to repent that he had sinned at all. Oh! there is nothing so
+devout as an old Whoremaster.
+
+_Bea._ I fancy then it will be shortly Time for you to think of it, Sir!
+
+_Old Lar._ Ay, Madam, about some thirty or forty Years hence it
+may----Odsheart! I am but in the prime of my Years yet: And if it was
+not for a saucy young Rascal who looks me in the Face and calls me
+Father, might make a very good Figure among the Beaus. But tho' I am not
+so young in Years, I am in Constitution as any of them; and I don't
+question but to live to see a Son and a great Grandson both born on the
+same Day.
+
+_Isa._ You will excuse this Lady, Mr. _Laroon_, who is going to retire
+so much earlier--
+
+_Old Lar._ Retire!----Then it is with a young Fellow, I hope.
+
+_Isa._ Into a Cloister, I assure you.
+
+_Old Lar._ A Cloister!--Why, Madam, if you have a mind to hang your self
+at the Year's End; would it not be better to spend your Time in
+Matrimony than in a Nunnery? Don't let a Set of rascally Priests put
+strange Notions in your Head. Take my Word for it, and I am a very
+honest Fellow, there are no Raptures worth a Louse, but those in the
+Arms of a brisk young Cavalier. Of all the Actions of my Youth, there
+are none I reflect on with so much Pleasure as having burnt half a Dozen
+Nunneries, and delivered several hundred Virgins out of Captivity.
+
+_Bea._ Oh! Villany! unheard of Villany!
+
+_Isa._ Unheard of till this Moment I dare swear.
+
+_Old Lar._ Out of which Number there are at present nine Countesses,
+three Dutchesses, and a Queen, who owe their Liberty and their Promotion
+to this Arm.
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Isabel, Beatrice.
+
+_Old Lar._ You are a fine Spark truly to let your Father visit your
+Mistress before you--'Sdeath! I believe you are no Son of mine. Where
+have you been, Sir? What have you been doing, Sir, hey?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Sir, I have been at my Devotions.
+
+_Old Lar._ At your Devotions! nay, then you are no Son of mine, that's
+certain. Is not this the Shrine you are to offer up at, Sirrah! Is not
+here the Altar you are to officiate at?--Sirrah! you have no Blood of
+mine in you. I believe you are the Bastard of some travelling _English_
+Alderman, and must have come into the World with a Custard in your
+Mouth.
+
+_Y. Lar._ I hope, Madam, you will allow my Excuse, tho' the old
+Gentleman here will not.
+
+_Old Lar._ Old Gentleman! very fine! Sirrah! I'll convince you I am a
+young Gentleman; I'll marry to-night, and make you a Brother before you
+are a Father; I'll teach you to thrust him out of the World that thrust
+you into it----Madam, have no more to say to the ungracious Dog.
+
+_Y. Lar._ That will be a sure way to quit all Obligations between us;
+for the Happiness I propose in this Lady, is the chief Reason why I
+should thank you for bringing me into the World.
+
+_Old Lar._ What's that you say, Sir; say that again, Sir.
+
+_Y. Lar._ I was only thanking you, Sir, for desiring this Lady to take
+from me all I esteem on Earth.
+
+_Old Lar._ Well enough that! I begin to think him my own again. I have
+made that very Speech to half the Women in _Paris_.
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+_To them_ Martin.
+
+_Mart._ Peace be with you all, Good People.
+
+_Old Lar._ Peace cannot stay long in any Place where a Priest comes.
+                                                               [_Aside._
+
+_Mart._ Daughter, I am ready to receive your Confession--
+
+_Old Lar._ Ay, ay, she has a fine Parcel of sinful Thoughts to answer
+for, I warrant her.
+
+_Mart._ Mr. _Laroon_, you are too much inclined to Slander, I must
+reprove you for it. My Daughter's Thoughts are as pure as a Saint's.
+
+_Old Lar._ As any Saint's in Christendom within a Day of Matrimony.
+
+_Mart._ Within a Day of Matrimony; it is too quick; I have not yet had
+sufficient Time to prepare her Mind for that solemn Sacrament.
+
+_Old Lar._ Prepare her Mind for a young Fellow; prepare your Mind for a
+Bishoprick.
+
+_Mart._ Sir, there are Ceremonies requisite, I shall be as expeditious
+as possible, but the Church has Rules.
+
+_Old Lar._ Sir, you may be as expeditious or as slow as you please, but
+I will not have my Boy disappointed of his Happiness one Day, for all
+the Rules in _Europe_.
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+Martin, Isabel.
+
+_Mart._ I shall bring this Haughtiness to a Penance, you may not like.
+Well, my dear Daughter, I hope your Account is not long. You have not
+many Articles since our last Reckoning.
+
+_Isa._ I wish you do not think it so, Father. First, telling nine Lyes
+at the Opera the other Night to Mr. _Laroon_; yesterday talk'd during
+the whole Mass to a young Cavalier, [_he groans._] Nay, if you groan
+already, I shall make you groan more before I have done; last Night
+cheated at Cards, scandalized three of my Acquaintance, went to Bed
+without saying my Prayers, and dreamt of Mr. _Laroon_.
+
+_Mart._ Oh!--Tell me the Particulars of that Dream.
+
+_Isa._ Nay, Father, that I must be excus'd.
+
+_Mart._ Modesty at Confession is as unseasonable as in Bed, and your
+Mind should appear as naked to your Confessor, as your Person to your
+Husband.
+
+_Isa._ I thought he embraced me with the utmost Tenderness.
+
+_Mart._ But were you pleased therewith?
+
+_Isa._ You know, Father, a Lye now would be the greatest of Sins. I was
+not displeased I assure you. But I have often heard you say, there is no
+Sin in Love.
+
+_Mart._ No, in Love it self there is not: Love is not _Malum in se_. Nor
+in the Excess is there sometimes any: but then it must be rightly
+placed, must be directed to a proper Object. The Love a Daughter bears
+her Confessor is no doubt not only innocent, but extremely laudable.
+
+_Isa._ Yes, but that--that is another sort of Love, you know.
+
+_Mart._ You are deceived, there is but one sort of Love which is
+justifiable, or, indeed, desirable.
+
+_Isa._ I hope my Love for _Laroon_ is that.
+
+_Mart._ That I know not, I wish it may; however, I have some Dispute as
+yet remaining with me concerning it; 'till that be satisfied, it will be
+improper for you to proceed any farther in the Affair. All the Penance,
+therefore, I shall enjoin you on this Confession, is to defer your
+Marriage one Week; by which time I shall have resolved within my self
+whether you shall marry him at all.
+
+_Isa._ Not marry him at all? Sure, Father, you are not in earnest.
+
+_Mart._ I never jest on these Occasions.
+
+_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_.
+
+_Isa._ Sure never poor Maid had more need of Prayers: but you have left
+me no great Stomach to them. Great things are in Agitation! What can he
+mean? It must be so----Some old liquorish Rogue with a Title, or a
+larger Estate hath a mind to supplant my dear _Laroon_.
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+_Young_ Laroon, Isabel.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ My _Isabel_, my Sweet!--how painfully do I count each tedious
+Hour, till I can call you mine?
+
+_Isa._ Indeed, you are like to count many more tedious Hours than you
+imagine.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Ha! What means my Love?
+
+_Isa._ I would not have your Wishes too impatient, that's all; but if
+you will wait a Week, you shall know whether I intend to marry you or
+not.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ And is this possible? Can Words like these fall from
+_Isabel_'s sweet Lips; can she be false, inconstant, perjured?
+
+_Isa._ Oh! do not discharge such a Volley of terrible Names upon me
+before you are certain I deserve them; doubt only whether I can be
+obedient to my Confessor, and guess the rest.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Can he have enjoined you to be perjured, by Heaven it would
+be sinful to obey him.
+
+_Isa._ Be satisfied, if I prevail with my self to obey him in this
+Week's Delay, I will carry my Obedience no farther.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Oh! to what Happiness have those dear Words restor'd me. I am
+again my self: for while the Possession of thee is sure, tho' distant,
+there is in that dear Hope, more Transport than any other actual
+Enjoyment can afford.
+
+_Isa._ Well adieu, and to cram you quite full with Hope (since you like
+the Food) I here promise you, that the Commands of all the Priests in
+_France_ shall not force me to marry another. That is, Sir, I will
+either marry you or die a Maid, and I have no violent Inclination to the
+latter, on the Word of a Virgin.
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+_Young_ Laroon _solus_.
+
+Whether a violent Hatred to my Father, or an inordinate Love for
+Mischief, hath set the Priest on this Affair, I know not. Perhaps it is
+the former----for the old Gentleman hath the Happiness of being
+universally hated by every Priest in _Toulon_----Let a Man abuse a
+Physician, he makes another Physician his Friend, let him rail at a
+Lawyer, another will plead his Cause gratis; if he libel this Courtier,
+that Courtier receives him into his Bosom: but let him once attack a
+Hornet or a Priest, the whole Nest of Hornets, and the whole Regiment of
+Black-guards are sure to be upon him.
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+_Old_ Laroon _laughing_, _Young_ Laroon.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ You are merry, Sir.
+
+_Old. Lar._ Merry, Sir! Ay, Sir! I am merry, Sir. Would you have your
+Father sad, you Rascal? Have you a mind to bury him in his Youth?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Pardon me, Sir, I rather wished to know the happy Occasion of
+your Mirth.
+
+_Old Lar._ The Occasion of my Mirth, Sir, is the saddest Sight that ever
+Mortal beheld.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ A very odd Occasion indeed.
+
+_Old Lar._ Very odd truly. It is the Sight of an old honest Whoremaster
+in a Fit of Despair, and a damned Rogue of a Priest riding him to the
+Devil.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Ay, Sir, but I have seen a more melancholy Sight.
+
+_Old Lar._ Ha! what can that be?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ A fine young Lady in a Fit of Love, and a Priest keeping her
+from her Lover.
+
+_Old Lar._ How?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ The Explanation of which is, that Father Martin hath put off
+our Match for a Week.
+
+_Old. Lar._ Put off your Match with _Isabel_!
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Even so, Sir.
+
+_Old Lar._ Well I never have made a Hole in a Gown yet, I never have
+tapped a Priest: but if I don't let out some reverend Blood before the
+Sun sets, may I never See him rise again. I'll carbonade the Villain,
+I'll make a Ragout for the Devil's Supper of him.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Let me intreat you, Sir, to do nothing rashly, as long as I
+am safe in the Faith of my _Isabel_.
+
+_Old Lar._ I tell you, Sirrah, no Man is safe in the Faith of a
+Mistress, no one is secure of a Woman till he is in Bed with her. Had
+there been any Security in the Faith of a Mistress, I had been at
+present married to half the Dutchesses in _France_. I no more rely on
+what a Woman says out of a Church, than on what a Priest says in it.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Pardon me, Sir: but I should have very little Appetite to
+marry the Woman whom I had such an Opinion of.
+
+_Old Lar._ You had an Opinion of! What Business have you to have any
+Opinion. Is it not enough that I have an Opinion of her, that is of her
+Fortune--But I suppose you are one of those romantick, whining Coxcombs,
+that are in Love with a Woman behind her Back: Sirrah, I have had two
+Women lawfully, and two thousand unlawfully, and never was in Love in my
+Life.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Well, Sir, then I am happy, that we both agree in the same
+Person; I like the Woman, and you her Fortune.
+
+_Old. Lar._ Yes, you Dog, and I'd have you secure her as soon as you
+can: for if a greater Fortune should be found out in _Toulon_, I'd make
+you marry her--So go find out your Mistress, and stick close to her, and
+I'll go seek the Priest, whom, if I can find, I will stick close to with
+a Vengeance.
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+_Another Apartment._
+
+Jourdain, Martin.
+
+_Jourd._ Alas! Father, there is one Sin sticks by me more than any I
+have confessed to you. It is so enormous a one my Shame hath prevented
+me discovering it--I have often concealed my Crimes from my Confessor.
+
+_Mart._ That is a damnable Sin indeed. It seemeth to argue a Distrust of
+the Church, the greatest of all Crimes; a Sin I fear the Church cannot
+forgive.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! say not so, Father!
+
+_Mart._ I should have said will not, or not without difficulty: for the
+Church can do all things.
+
+_Jourd._ That is some Comfort again.
+
+_Mart._ I hope, however, tho' you have not confessed them, you have not
+forgotten them; for they must be confessed before they can be forgiven.
+
+_Jourd._ I hope I shall recollect them, they are a black Roll--I
+remember I once was the Occasion of ruining a Woman's Reputation by
+shewing a Letter from her.
+
+_Mart._ If you had shewn it to the Priest it had been no Fault.
+
+_Jourd._ Alas! Sir, I wrote the Letter to my self, and thus traduced the
+Innocent. I afterwards commanded a Company of Granadiers, at the taking
+of a Town, where I knocked a poor old Gentleman in the Head for the sake
+of his Money, and ravished his Daughter.
+
+_Mart._ These are crying Sins indeed.
+
+_Jourd._ At the same time I robbed a Jesuit of two Pistoles.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! damnable! Oh! execrable!
+
+_Jourd._ Good Father, have Patience: I once borrowed five hundred Livres
+of an honest Citizen in Paris, and repay'd him by lying with his Wife:
+And what sits nearest my Heart, was forced to pay a young Cavalier the
+same Sum, by suffering him to lie with mine.
+
+_Mart._ Oh!
+
+_Jourd._ And yet what are these to what I have done since I commenced
+Merchant. What have I not done to get a Penny. I insured a Ship for a
+great Value, and then cast it away; I broke when I was worth a hundred
+thousand Livres, and went over to _London_. I settled there, renounced
+my Religion, and was made a Justice of Peace.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! that Seat of Heresy and Damnation! that Whore of _Babylon_!
+
+_Jourd._ With the Whores of _Babylon_ did I unite: I protected them from
+Justice: Gaming-houses and Baudy-houses did I license, nay, and frequent
+too; I never punished any Vice but Poverty: for Oh! I dread to name it:
+I once committed a Priest to _Newgate_ for picking Pockets.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! monstrous! horrible! dreadful! I'll hear no more. Thou art
+damn'd without Reprieve.
+
+_Jourd._ Take Pity, Father, take Pity on a Penitent.
+
+_Mart._ Pity! the Church abhors it. 'Twere Mercy to such a Wretch to
+pray him into Purgatory.
+
+_Jourd._ I'll give all my Estate to the Church, I'll found Monasteries,
+I'll build Abbies.
+
+_Mart._ All will not do, ten thousand Masses will not deliver you.
+
+_Jourd._ Was ever such a miserable Wretch!
+
+_Mart._ Thou hast Sins enough to damn thy whole Family. Monstrous
+Impiety! to lift up the Hand of Justice against the Church.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh speak some Comfort to me: will no Penance expiate my Crime?
+
+_Mart._ It is too grievous for a single Penance, go settle your Estate
+on the Church, and send your Daughter to a Nunnery, her Prayers will
+avail more than yours: Heaven hears the young and innocent with
+Pleasure. I will, my self, say four Masses a-day for you; and all these,
+I hope, will purchase your Forgiveness, at least your Stay in Purgatory
+will be short.
+
+_Jourd._ My Daughter! She is to be married to-morrow, and I shall never
+prevail on her.
+
+_Mart._ You must force her; your all depends on it.
+
+_Jourd._ But I have already sworn I will not force her.
+
+_Mart._ The Church absolves you from that Oath, and it were now Impiety
+to keep it. Go, lose not a Moment, see her entered with the utmost
+Expedition; she may put it out of your Power.
+
+_Jourd._ What a poor miserable Wretch am I?
+
+
+SCENE X.
+
+Martin _solus_.
+
+Thou art a miserable Wretch indeed! And it is on such miserable Wretches
+depends our Power: that Superstition which tears thy Bowels, feeds
+ours. This Nunnery is a Master-piece, let me but once shut up my dear
+_Isabel_ from every other Man, and the Warmth of her Constitution may be
+my very powerful Friend. How far am I got already from the very Brink of
+Despair, by the Despair of this old Fool. Superstition, I adore thee,
+
+  Thou handle to the cheated Layman's Mind,
+  By which in Fetters Priestcraft leads Mankind.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II. SCENE I.
+
+Jourdain, Isabel.
+
+
+  JOURDAIN.
+
+Have you no Compassion for your Father, for him that gave you being?
+Could you bear to hear me howl in Purgatory?
+
+_Isa._ Lud! Pappa! Do you think your putting me into Purgatory in this
+World, will save you from Purgatory in the next? If you have any Sins
+you must repent of them your self; for I give you my Word, I have enough
+to do to repent of my own.
+
+_Jourd._ You will soon wipe off that Score, and will be then in a Place
+where you cannot contract a new one.
+
+_Isa._ Indeed, Sir, to shut a Woman out from Sin is not so easy. But,
+dear Sir, how can it enter into your Head, that my Penance can be
+acceptable for your Sin? Take my Word, one Week's fasting will be of
+more Service to you than this long Fast you would enjoin me.
+
+_Jourd._ Alas! Child, if fasting would do, I am sure I have not been
+wanting to my Duty: I have fasted till I am almost worn away to
+nothing; I have almost fasted my self into Purgatory, while I was
+fasting my self out of it.
+
+_Isa._ But whence comes all this Apprehension of your Danger?
+
+_Jourd._ Whence should it come, but from the Church.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! Sir, I have thought of the most lucky thing. You know, my
+Cousin _Beatrice_ is just going into a Nunnery, and she will pray for
+you as much as you would have her.
+
+_Jourd._ Trifle not with so serious a Concern. No Prayers but yours will
+ever do me good.
+
+_Isa._ Then you shall have them any where but in a Nunnery.
+
+_Jourd._ They must be there too.
+
+_Isa._ That will be impossible: for if I was there, instead of praying
+you out of Purgatory, my Prayers would be all bent to pray my self out
+of the Nunnery again.
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, Jourdain, Isabel.
+
+_Old. Lar._ A Dog, a Villain, put off my Son's Match. Mr. _Jourdain_,
+your Servant; will you suffer a Rogue of a Jesuit to defer your
+Daughter's Marriage a whole Week?
+
+_Jourd._ I am sorry, Mr. _Laroon_, for the Disappointment, but her
+Marriage will be deferred longer than that.
+
+_Old. Lar._ How, Sir!
+
+_Jourd._ She is intended for another Marriage, Sir, a much better Match.
+
+_Old. Lar._ A much better Match!--
+
+_Isa._ Yes, Sir, I am to be sent to a Nunnery, to pray my Father out of
+Purgatory.
+
+_Old Lar._ Oh! Ho!--We'll make that Matter very easy: he shall have no
+Fear of Purgatory; for I'll send him to the Devil this Moment. Come,
+Sir, draw, draw--
+
+_Jourd._ Draw what, Sir!
+
+_Old Lar._ Draw your Sword, Sir.
+
+_Jourd._ Alas, Sir, I have long since done with Swords, I have broke my
+Sword long since.
+
+_Old Lar._ Then I shall break your Head, you old Rogue.
+
+_Jourd._ Heyday----you are mad; what's the Matter?
+
+_Old Lar._ Oh! no matter, no matter, you have used me ill, and you are a
+Son of a Whore, that's all.
+
+_Jourd._ I wou'd not, Mr. _Laroon_, have my Conscience accuse me of
+using you ill: I would not have preferred any earthly Match to your Son,
+but if Heaven requires her--
+
+_Old Lar._ I shall run mad.
+
+_Jourd._ I hope my Daughter has Grace enough to make an Atonement for
+her Father's Sins.
+
+_Old Lar._ And so, you wou'd atone for all your former Rogueries, by a
+greater, by perverting the Design of Nature! Was this Girl intended for
+praying! Hearkee, old Gentleman, let the young Couple together, and
+they'll sacrifice their first Fruits to the Church.
+
+_Jourd._ It is impossible.
+
+_Old Lar._ Well, Sir, then I shall attempt to persuade you no longer;
+so, Sir, I desire you would fetch your Sword.
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+_Young_ Laroon _in a Friar's Habit_, _Old_ Laroon, Jourdain.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Let Peace be in this House----Where is the Sinner _Jourdain_?
+
+_Jourd._ Here is the miserable Wretch.
+
+_Old Lar._ Death and the Devil, another Priest.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Then know I am thy Friend, and am come to save thee from
+Destruction.
+
+_Old Lar._ That's likely enough.
+
+_Y. Lar._ St. _Francis_ the Patron of our Order hath sent me on this
+Journey, to caution thee, that thou may not suffer thy sinful Daughter
+to profane the holy Veil. Such was it seems thy Purpose; but the
+Perdition that would have attended it I dread to think on. Rejoice
+therefore, and prostrate thy self at the Shrine of a Saint, who has not
+only sent thee this Caution, but does himself intercede for all thy
+Sins.
+
+_Old Lar._ Agad! and St. _Francis_ is a very honest Fellow, and thou art
+the first Priest that ever I lik'd in my whole Life.
+
+_Jourd._ St. _Francis_ honours me too much. I shall try to deserve the
+Favour of that Saint. But wherefore is my Daughter denied the holy Veil?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Your Daughter, I am concerned to say it, is now with Child by
+a young Gentleman, one Mr. _Laroon_.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh Heavens!
+
+_Old Lar._ What's that you say, Sir, because I thought I heard somewhat
+of a damn'd Lye come out of your Mouth.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Sir, it is St. _Francis_ speaks within me, and he cannot be
+mistaken.
+
+_Old Lar._ I can tell you, Sir, if that young Gentleman had heard you,
+he would certainly have thrashed St. _Francis_ out of you.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Sir, you have nothing to do now, but to prepare the Match with
+the utmost Expedition.
+
+_Old Lar._ This St. _Francis_ must lye, or the Boy would not be so eager
+upon the Affair: No one is ever eager to sign Articles when they have
+entered the Town.----Well, Master _Jourdain_, if the young Dog has
+tripped up your Daughter's Heels in an unlawful way, as St. _Francis_
+says, why, he shall make her amends and--and do it in a lawful one. So
+I'll go see for my Son, while you go and comfort the poor Chicken that
+is pining for fear of a Nunnery.----Odsheart, it would be very hard
+indeed, when a Girl has once had her Belly full, that she must fast all
+her Life afterwards.
+
+_Y. Lar._ I have deliver'd my Commission and shall now return to my
+Convent----Farewel, and return Thanks to St. _Francis_.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! St. _Francis_! St. _Francis_! What a merciful Saint art
+thou!
+
+
+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.
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+Jourdain, Martin, Isabel.
+
+_Mart._ Ha! Why this unseasonable Interruption, while your Daughter is
+at Confession?
+
+_Jourd._ Oh, Father, I have brought you News will make you happy, will
+rejoice your poor Heart. My Daughter is redeemed.
+
+_Mart._ Out of Purgatory----vain Man! dost thou think to inform the
+Church?--
+
+_Jourd._ I suppose St. _Francis_ has been beforehand with me. Indeed I
+should have imagined that before: for we seldom hear any thing from the
+Saints, but thro' the Mouth of a Priest.
+
+_Mart._ (What does he mean?)                                   [_Aside._
+
+_Jourd._ Well, Daughter, the Thoughts of a Nunnery now give you no
+Uneasiness.
+
+_Mart._ No, no, she is perfectly reconciled to it, and I am confident,
+would not quit the Nunnery for the Bed of a Prince.
+
+_Jourd._ Ha! would not quit the Nunnery, Heaven forbid.
+
+_Mart._ How! you are not mad!
+
+_Jourd._ Unless with Joy. I thought you had known that I have received
+an Order from St. _Francis_, to marry my Daughter immediately.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! Folly! to marry her immediately; why ay, to marry her to the
+Church, St. _Francis_ means. You see into what Errors the Laity run,
+when they go without the Leading-strings of the Church, and would
+interpret for themselves what they know nothing of.
+
+_Isa._ I'll take this Opportunity to steal off, and communicate a Design
+of mine to young _Laroon_, which may draw this Priest into a Snare he
+little dreams of.
+
+_Jourd._ But I cannot see how that should be St. Francis's Meaning: For
+tho' my Daughter may be married to the Church in a figurative Sense,
+sure, she cannot be with Child by the Church in a literal one.
+
+_Mart._ I see the Business now, unhappy Man! I was in Hopes to have
+prevented this----_Exorcizo te, Exorcizo te,_ Satan. _Ton Dapamibominos
+prosephe podas ocus Achilleus_.
+
+_Jourd._ Bless us, what mean you?
+
+_Mart._ You are possessed; the Devil has taken possession of you; he is
+now within you, I saw him just now look out of your Eyes.
+
+_Jourd._ O miserable Wretch that I am!
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Jourdain, Martin.
+
+_Old Lar._ Mr. _Jourdain_, your Servant. Where is my Daughter-in-law:
+I'll warrant she will easily forgive one Day's forwarding the Match.
+Odso, it's an Error of the right side.
+
+_Jourd._ Talk not to me of my Daughter, I am possessed, I am possessed.
+
+_Old Lar._ Possessed--what the Devil are you possessed with.
+
+_Jourd._ I am possessed with the Devil.
+
+_Old Lar._ You are possessed with a Priest, and that's worse. Come,
+let's have the Wedding, and at Night, we'll drive the Devil out of you
+with a Fidle. The Devil is a great Lover of Musick. I have known half a
+Dozen Devils dance out of a Man's Mouth at the tuning a Violin, then
+present the Company with a Hornpipe, and so dance a Jig through the
+Keyhole.
+
+_Mart._ Thou art the Devil's Son; for he is the Father of Lyars.
+
+_Old Lar._ Thou art the Devil's Footman, and wearest his proper Livery.
+
+_Jourd._ Fy upon you, Mr. _Laroon_; Fy upon you.
+
+_Mart._ Mr. _Laroon_! O surprizing Effect of Possession----Here is no
+Body.
+
+_Jourd._ Can I not believe my Eyes?
+
+_Mart._ Can you not! no--you are to believe mine. The Eyes of the Laity
+may err, the Eyes of a Priest cannot.
+
+_Jourd._ And do I not see Mr. _Laroon_ and his Son!
+
+_Mart._ You see neither. It is the Spirit within you that represents to
+your Eyes and Ears what Objects it pleases.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! miserable Wretch.
+
+_Old Lar._ Agad I'll try whether I am no Body or no, and whether I
+cannot make this Priest sensible that I am somebody.
+
+_Y. Lar._ For Heaven's sake, Sir, consider the Consequence.
+
+_Old Lar._ Consequence! Do you think I'll suffer a Rascal to prove me
+nothing at all to my Face?
+
+_Jourd._ And is it possible all this is a Vision?
+
+_Mart._ Retire to Rest----while I by the Force and Battery of Prayer,
+expel this dreadful Guest.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! what a miserable Wretch am I!
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Martin.
+
+_Old Lar._ Hearkee, Sir, will you please to tell me what this great
+Impudence of yours means? and what you would intend by Annihilating me.
+
+_Mart._ It were happy for such Sinners that they cou'd be annihilated:
+It were worth you two hundred thousand Masses, take my Word for it.
+
+_Old Lar._ It were happy for such Rascals as you, Sirrah, that all
+Honesty was annihilated.
+
+_Y. Lar._ But pray, Father, what Reasons have you for preventing my
+Match with _Isabel_?
+
+_Mart._ Reasons, young Gentleman, that are not proper for your Ears.
+_Isabel_ is intended for a better Bridegroom than you.
+
+_Old Lar._ How, Sirrah! how! Do you disparage my Son? Do you run down my
+Boy? Hearkee, either make up Affairs between them immediately, exert thy
+self in thy proper office and hold the Door, or I'll blow up thy
+Convent; I'll burn your Garrison, and disband such a Set of black
+Locusts as shall rob and pillage all _Toulon_.
+
+_Mart._ I contemn thy Threats. The Saints defend their Ministers.
+
+_Old Lar._ The Saints defend their Ministers! the Laws defend them: St.
+Wheel, and St. Prison, and St. Gibbet, and St. Faggot; these are the
+Saints that defend you. If you had no Defence but from the Saints in the
+other World, you wou'd few of you stay long in this. If you had no other
+Arms than your Beads, you would have shortly no other Food.
+
+_Mart._ Oh Slanderous! Oh impious! some Judgment cannot be far off.
+
+_Old Lar._ When a Priest is so near--Sirrah!
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+Isabel, _to them_.
+
+_Mart._ Daughter, fly from this wicked Place; the Breath of Sin has
+infected it, and two Gallons of Holy Water will scarce purify the Air.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! Heavens! What's the Matter, Father?
+
+_Old Lar._ Why the Matter is, this Gentleman in Black here, for Reasons
+best known to himself, and another Gentleman in Black, has thought fit
+to forbid your Marriage.
+
+_Isa._ What the Saints please.
+
+_Old Lar._ Hoity-toity! What, has he fill'd your Head with the Saints
+too?
+
+_Isa._ Oh Sir! I have had such Dreams.
+
+_Old Lar._ Dreams! Ha, ha, ha: The Devil's in it, if a Girl just going
+to be married should not have Dreams. But they were Dreams the Saints
+had nothing to do with, I warrant you.
+
+_Isa._ Such Visions of Saints appearing to me, and advising me to a
+Nunnery.
+
+_Old Lar._ Impossible! Impossible! for I have had Visions too: I have
+been order'd by half a Dozen Saints to see you married with the utmost
+Expedition; and a very honest Saint, whose Name I forget, came to me
+about an Hour ago, and swore heartily if you were not married within
+this Week, he'd lead you to Purgatory in a Fortnight.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! grievous!
+
+_Isa._ Can there be such Contradictions?
+
+_Old Lar._ Pshaw! Pshaw! Yours was a Dream, and so to be understood
+backwards; Mine, a true Vision, therefore to be believ'd. Why, Child, I
+have been a famous Seer of Visions in my Time. Wou'd you believe it?
+While I was in the Army, there never was a Battle, but I saw it some
+time beforehand. I have had an intimate Familiarity with the Saints, I
+know them all: There is not one of them cou'd be capable of saying such
+a thing.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! Sir, I saw, and heard, and must believe, for none but the
+Church can contradict our Senses.
+
+_Old. Lar._ So, so! the Distemper's hereditary, I find: the Daughter is
+as full of the Church as the Father. Come away, Son, come away: I would
+not have thee marry into such a Family, I shou'd be Grand-father to a
+Race of greasy Priests. 'Sdeath! this Girl will be brought to bed of a
+Pope one Day or other.
+
+_Isa._ 'Tis out, 'tis out.
+
+_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.
+
+_Mart._ And if any thing be wanting on mine, may I never say Mass again,
+or never be paid for Masses I have not said. Either this Girl has
+extraordinary Simplicity, or what is more likely, extraordinary Cunning;
+she does not seem averse to my Kisses. Why should I not imagine she sees
+and approves my Design. Well, I'll say this for the Sex: Let a Man but
+invent any Excuse for the Sin, and they are all ready to undertake it.
+How happy is a Priest,
+
+  Who can the blushing Maid's Resistance smother,
+  With Sin in one Hand, Pardon in the other.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III. SCENE I.
+
+
+SCENE, Isabel'_s_ _Apartment_.
+
+_Young_ Laroon, Isabel.
+
+  _Young_ LAROON.
+
+Perdition seize the Villain, may all the Torments of twenty Inquisitions
+wrack his Soul.
+
+_Isa._ Act your Part well, and we shall not want his own Weapons against
+him.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Sure it is impossible he can intend it--
+
+_Isa._ Shall I make the Experiment?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ I shall never be able to forbear murdering him.
+
+_Isa._ You shall promise not to commit any Violence, you know too well
+what wou'd be the Consequence of that. Let us sufficiently convict him,
+and leave his Punishment to the Law.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ And I know too well what will be the Consequence of that.
+There seems to be a Combination between Priests and Lawyers; the Lawyers
+are to save the Priests from Punishment for their Rogueries in this
+World, and the Priests the Lawyers in the next.
+
+_Isa._ However, the same Law that screens him for having injured you,
+will punish you for having done Justice to him. [_Knocking at the Door._
+
+_Isa._ Oh! Heavens! the Priest is at the Door. What shall we do?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Damn him: I'll stay here and confront him.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! No, by no means: For once, I'll attack him in his own Way; so
+the Moment he opens the Door, do you run out and leave the rest to me.
+
+  [_She throws her self into a Chair, and shrieks._ _Young_ Laroon
+    _overturns_ Martin.
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+Martin, Isabel.
+
+_Mart._ I am slain, I am overlaid, I am murdered. Oh! Daughter,
+Daughter, is this your patient Expectation of the Spirit?
+
+_Isa._ It has been here: It has been here.
+
+_Mart._ What has been here?
+
+_Isa._ Oh! the Spirit, the Spirit. It has been here this half Hour, and
+just as you came in, it vanished away in a Clap of Thunder, and I
+thought would have taken the Room with it.
+
+_Mart._ I thought it would have taken me with it, I am sure. Spirit
+indeed! There are abundance of such Spirits as these in _Toulon_. And
+pray, how have the Spirit and you employed your time this half Hour?
+
+_Isa._ Oh! don't ask me: It is impossible to tell you.
+
+_Mart._ Ay, 'tis needless too: for I can give a shrewd Guess. I suppose
+you like his Company.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! so well! That I could wish he would visit me ten Times every
+Day.
+
+_Mart._ Oh, Ho! And in the same Shape too.
+
+_Isa._ Oh! I shou'd like him in any Shape, and I dare swear he'll come
+in any Shape too: For he is the purest, sweetest, most complaisant
+Spirit: I could have almost sworn it had been Mr. _Laroon_ himself.
+
+_Mart._ Was there ever such a----
+
+_Isa._ Nay, when it came in first, it behaved just like Mr. _Laroon_,
+and call'd it self by his Name; but when it found I did not answer a
+Word, it took me by the Hand, and cry'd, is it possible you can be angry
+with your _Laroon_! I answer'd not a Word; then it kissed me a hundred
+times; I said nothing still; it caught me in its Arms, and embrac'd me
+Passionately; I still behaved as you commanded me, very passive.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! the Devil, the Devil! Was ever Man so caught. And did you
+never apprehend it to be Mr. _Laroon_ himself?
+
+_Isa._ Heaven forbid, I should have suffered Mr. _Laroon_ in those
+Familiarities, which you order'd me to allow the Spirit.
+
+_Mart._ I am caught indeed. Damn'd driveling Idiot!            [_Aside._
+
+_Isa._ But, dear Father, tell me, shall I not see it again quickly? For
+I long to see it again.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! Yes, yes----
+
+_Isa._ I long to see it in the dark (methinks) for you know, Father, one
+sees Spirits best in the dark.
+
+_Mart._ Ay, ay, you'll see it in the dark, I warrant you; but be sure
+and behave as you did before.
+
+_Isa._ And will he always behave as he did before, Father?
+
+_Mart._ Hum! Be in your Chamber this Evening at Eight; take care there
+be no Light in the Room, and perhaps the Spirit may pay you a second
+Visit.
+
+_Isa._ I'll be sure to be punctual.
+
+_Mart._ And passive.
+
+_Isa._ I'll obey you in every thing.
+
+_Mart._ Senseless Oaf. But tho' I have lost the first Fruits by her
+extreme Folly, yet am I highly delighted with it; and if I do not make a
+notable use of it I am no Priest.
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+Jourdain _solus_.
+
+Oh! Purgatory! Purgatory! What wou'd I not give to escape thy Flames!
+(methinks) I feel them already. Hark! what Noise is that?--Nothing--Ha!
+what's that I see? Something with two Heads----What can all this
+portend?----What a poor miserable Wretch am I?
+
+  _Enter Servant._
+
+_Serv._ Sir, a Friar below desires to speak with you.
+
+_Jourd._ Why will you suffer a Man of Holy Order to wait a Moment at my
+Door? Bring him in.
+
+Perhaps he is some Messenger of Comfort. But Oh! I rather fear the
+reverse: For what Comfort can a Sinner like me expect?
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+_Old_ Laroon _in a Friar's Habit_, Jourdain.
+
+_Old Lar._ A Plague attend this House and all that are in it.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! Oh!
+
+_Old Lar._ Art thou that miserable, sad, poor Son of a Whore,
+_Jourdain_?
+
+_Jourd._ Alas! Alas!
+
+_Old Lar._ If thou art he, I have a Message to thee from St. _Francis_.
+The Saint gives his humble Service to you, and bid me tell you, You are
+one of the saddest Dogs that ever liv'd; for having disobey'd his
+Orders, and attempted to put your Daughter into a Nunnery: For which he
+has given me positive Orders to assure you, you shall lie in Purgatory
+five hundred thousand Years.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh!
+
+_Old Lar._ And I assure you it is a very warm sort of a Place; for I
+call'd there as I came along to take Lodgings for you.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! Heavens! is it possible! that you can have seen the
+dreadful Horrors of that Place?
+
+_Old Lar._ Seen them! Ha, ha, ha, why, I have been there half a dozen
+times in a Day: Why, how far do you take it to be to Purgatory? Not
+above a Mile and half at farthest, and every Step of the way down Hill.
+Seen them! ay, ay, I have seen them, and a pretty Sight they are too, a
+pretty tragical sort of a Sight; if it were not for the confounded Heat
+of the Air----then there is the prettiest Consort of Musick.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! Heavens! Musick!
+
+_Old Lar._ Ay, ay, Groans, Groans, a fine Consort of Groans, you would
+think your self at an Opera, if it were not for the great Heat of the
+Air, as I said before; some Spirits are shut up in Ovens, some are
+chain'd to Spits, some are scatter'd in Frying-pans--and I have taken up
+a Place for you on a Gridiron.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! I am scorch'd, I am scorch'd--For Pity's sake, Father,
+intercede with St. _Francis_ for me: Compassionate my Case--
+
+_Old Lar._ There is but one way, let me carry him the News of your
+Daughter's Marriage, that may perhaps appease him. Between you and I,
+St. _Francis_ is a liquorish old Dog, and loves to set People to work to
+his Heart.
+
+_Jourd._ She shall be married this Instant, the Saint must know it is
+none of my Fault: Had I rightly understood his Will, it had been long
+since performed--But well might I misinterpret him, when even the
+Church, when Father _Martin_ fail'd.
+
+_Old Lar._ I wou'd be very glad to know where I should find that same
+Father _Martin_. I have a small Commission to him relating to a
+Purgatory Affair. St. _Francis_ has sentenced him to lie in a Frying-pan
+there, just six hundred Years, for his Amour with your Daughter.
+
+_Jourd._ My Daughter!
+
+_Old Lar._ Are you ignorant of it then? Did not you know that he had
+debauched your Daughter?
+
+_Jourd._ Ignorant! oh! Heavens! no Wonder she is refused the Veil.
+
+_Old Lar._ I thought you had known it. I'll shew you a Sight worse than
+Purgatory it self. You shall behold this Disgrace to the Church; a Sight
+shall make you shudder.
+
+_Jourd._ Is it possible a Priest should be such a Villain?
+
+_Old Lar._ Nothing's impossible to the Church you know.
+
+_Jourd._ And may I hope St. _Francis_ will be appeas'd.
+
+_Old Lar._ Hum! There is a great Favourite of that Saint who lives in
+this Town, his Name is Monsieur _Laroon_. If you could get him to say
+half a Dozen Bead-Rolls for you, they might be of great Service.
+
+_Jourd._ How! Can the Saint regard so loose a Liver?
+
+_Old Lar._ Oh! St. _Francis_ loves an honest merry Fellow to his Soul.
+And hearkee, I don't think it impossible for Mr. _Laroon_ to bring you
+acquainted with the Saint; for to my Knowledge, they very often crack a
+Bottle together.
+
+_Jourd._ Can I believe it?
+
+_Serv._ Father _Martin_ is below.
+
+_Old Lar._ Son, behave civilly to him, nor mention a Word of what I have
+told you--that we may entrap him more securely.
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+Martin, _to them_.
+
+_Mart._ Peace be with my Son. Ha! a Friar here! I like not this, I will
+have no Partners in my Plunder. Save you, reverend Father.
+
+_Old Lar._ _Tu quoque._
+
+_Mart._ This Fellow should be a Jesuit by his Taciturnity. You see,
+Father, the miserable State of our poor Son.
+
+_Old Lar._ I have advis'd him thereon.
+
+_Mart._ Your Advice is kind, tho' needless. He hath not wanted Prayer,
+Fasting, nor Castigation, which are proper Physick for him.
+
+_Old Lar._ Or suppose, Father, he was to go to a Ball. What think you of
+a Ball?
+
+_Mart._ A Ball?
+
+_Old Lar._ Ay, or a Wench now; suppose, we were to procure him a Wench.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! monstrous! Oh! impious!----
+
+_Old Lar._ I only give my Opinion.
+
+_Mart._ Thy Opinion is damnable. And thou art some Wolf in Sheep's
+clothing. Thou art a Scandal to thy Order.
+
+_Old Lar._ I wish thou art not more a Scandal to thine, Brother Father,
+to abuse a poor old Fellow in a Fit of the Spleen here as thou dost,
+with a Set of ridiculous Notions of Purgatory and the Devil knows what,
+when both you and I know there is no such thing.
+
+_Mart._ That I should not know thee before. Don't you know this reverend
+Father, Son? Your worthy Neighbour _Laroon_.
+
+_Old Lar._ Then farewel, Hypocrisy. I wou'd not wear thy Cloke another
+Hour for any Consideration.
+
+_Jourd._ What do I see?
+
+_Old Lar._ Why you see a very honest Neighbour of yours, that has try'd
+to deliver you out of the Claws of a roguish Priest, whom you may see
+too; look in the Glass and you may see an old doating Fool, who is
+afraid of his own Shadow.
+
+_Mart._ Be not concerned at this, Son. Perhaps, one Hour's suffering
+from this Fellow, may strike off several Years of Purgatory; I have
+known such Instances.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! Father! Didst thou know what I have been guilty of
+believing against thee, from the Mouth of this wicked Man?
+
+_Old Lar._ Death and the Devil, I'll stay no longer here; for if I do, I
+shall cut this Priest's Throat, tho' the Rack was before my Face.
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+Martin, Jourdain.
+
+_Mart._ Son, take care of believing any thing against the Church: It is
+as sinful to believe any thing against the Church, as to disbelieve any
+thing for it. You are to believe what the Church tells you, and no more.
+
+_Jourd._ I almost shudder when I think what I believed against you. I
+believed that you had seduced my Daughter.
+
+_Mart._ Oh! horrible! and did you believe it? Think not you believed it.
+I order you to think you did not believe it, and it were now sinful to
+believe you did believe it.
+
+_Jourd._ And can I think so.
+
+_Mart._ Certainly. I know what you believe better than you your self do.
+However, that your Mind may be cleansed from the least Pollution of
+Thought--go say over ten Bead-Rolls immediately, go and Peace attend
+you----
+
+_Jourd._ I am exceedingly comforted within.
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+Martin _solus_.
+
+Go. While I retire and comfort your Daughter. Was this a Suspicion of
+_Laroon_'s, or am I betrayed? I begin to fear. I'll act with Caution,
+for I am not able yet to discover whether this Girl be of prodigious
+Simplicity or Cunning. How vain is Policy, when the little Arts of a
+Woman are superior to the Wisdom of a Conclave. A Priest may cheat
+Mankind, but a Woman would cheat the Devil.
+
+
+SCENE VIII. _The Street._
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon _meet_.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Well, Sir, what Success?
+
+_Old Lar._ Success! you Rascal! If ever you offer to put me into a
+Priest's Skin again, I'll beat you out of your own.
+
+_Y. Lar._ What's the Matter, Sir?
+
+_Old Lar._ Matter, Sir? Why I have been laughed at, have been abused.
+'Sdeath! Sir! I am in such a Passion, that I do not believe I shall come
+to my self again these twenty Years. That Rascal _Martin_ discovered me
+in an Instant, and turned me into a Jest.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Be comforted, Sir, you may yet have the Pleasure of turning
+him into one.
+
+_Old Lar._ Nothing less than turning him inside out.----Nothing less
+than broiling his Gizzard will satisfy me.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Come with me, and I dare swear, I'll give your Revenge
+Content. We have laid a Snare for him, which I think it is impossible he
+should escape.
+
+_Old Lar._ A Snare for a Priest! a Trap for the Devil! You will as soon
+catch the one as the other.
+
+_Y. Lar._ I am sure our Bait is good----A fine Woman is as good a Bait
+for a Priest-trap, as toasted Cheese is for a Mouse-trap.
+
+_Old Lar._ Yes, but the Rascal will nibble off twenty Baits before you
+can take him.
+
+_Y. Lar._ Leave that to us. I'll warrant our Success.
+
+_Old Lar._ Wilt thou? then I shall have more Pleasure in taking this one
+Priest, than in all the other wild Beasts I have ever taken.
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+Jourdain, Isabel.
+
+_Isa._ If I don't convince you he's a Villain, renounce me for your
+Daughter. Do not shut your Ears against Truth, and you shall want no
+other Evidence.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh, Daughter, Daughter, some Evil Spirit is busy with you. The
+same Spirit that visited me this Morning, is now in you.
+
+_Isa._ I wish the Spirit that is in me wou'd visit you, you wou'd kick
+this Rogue out of Doors.
+
+_Jourd._ The wicked Reason of your Anger is too plain. The Priest won't
+let you have your Fellow.
+
+_Isa._ The Priest would have me for himself.
+
+_Jourd._ Oh! wicked Assertion! Oh! base Return for the Care he has taken
+of your poor sinful Father, for the Love he has shewn for your Soul.
+
+_Isa._ He has shewn more Love for my Body, believe me, Sir. Nay, go but
+with me, and you shall believe your own Eyes and Ears.
+
+_Jourd._ Against the Church, Heaven forbid!
+
+_Isa._ Will you not believe your own Senses, Sir?
+
+_Jourd._ Not when the Church contradicts them.--Alas! How do we know
+what we believe without the Church? Why I thought I saw Mr. _Laroon_ and
+his Son to-day, when I saw neither. Alack-a-day, Child, the Church often
+contradicts our Senses. But you owe these wicked Thoughts to your
+Education in _England_, that vile heretical Country, where every Man
+believes what Religion he pleases, and most believe none.
+
+_Isa._ Well, Sir, if you will not be convinced, you shall be the only
+Person in _Toulon_ that is not.
+
+_Jourd._ I will go with thee, if it were only to see how far this wicked
+Spirit will carry his Imposition; for I am convinced the Devil will
+leave no Stone unturn'd to work my Destruction.
+
+_Isa._ I hope you will find us too hard for him and his Ambassador too.
+
+
+SCENE X. _Another Apartment._
+
+_Young_ Laroon _in Woman's Clothes_.
+
+None ever waited with more Impatience for her Lover than I for mine. It
+is a delightful Assignation, but I hope it is a Prelude to one more
+agreeable. I shall have Difficulty to refrain from beating the Rascal
+before he has discover'd himself--
+                                               [_Knocking at the Door._]
+
+Who's there?                                                 [_Softly._]
+
+_Bea._ _Isabel, Isabel._
+
+_Old Lar._ Come in. What a soft Voice the Rogue caterwauls in.
+
+
+SCENE XI.
+
+_Young_ Laroon, Beatrice.
+
+_Bea._ What are you doing in the Dark, my Dear?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Heyday, who the Devil is this? I seem to be in a way of an
+Assignation in earnest.
+
+_Bea._ _Isabel_, where are you?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Here, Child, give me your Hand. Dear Mademoiselle _Beatrice_,
+is it you?
+
+_Bea._ Oh Heavens! am I in a Man's Arms?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Hush! hush!----Don't you know my Voice----I am _Laroon_.
+
+_Bea._ Mr. _Laroon_! What Business can you have here?
+
+_Y. Lar._ Ask me no Questions, get but into a Corner of the Room and be
+silent, and you will perhaps see a very diverting Scene. Nay, do not be
+afraid, for I assure you, it will be a very innocent one; make haste,
+dear Madam, you will do a very laudable Action, by being an additional
+Evidence to the Discovery of a notorious Villain.
+
+_Bea._ I cannot guess your Meaning, but would willingly assist on such
+an Occasion.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Now for my desiring Lover. Ha! I think I hear him.
+
+
+SCENE XII.
+
+_Young_ Laroon, Martin.
+
+_Mart._ _Isabel_, _Isabel_, where are you?
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Here.
+
+_Mart._ Come to my Arms, my Angel.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ I hope you are in no frightful Shape.
+
+_Mart._ I am in the Shape of that very good Man thy Confessor, honest
+Father _Martin_. Let me embrace thee, my Love, my Charmer.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Bless me, what do you mean?
+
+_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.
+
+_Jourd._ I am Thunder-struck with Amazement.
+
+_Old Lar._ How durst you attempt to debauch my Son, you black Rascal: I
+have a great Mind to make an Example of you for attempting to dishonour
+my Family.
+
+_Priest._ You shall be made a severe Example of for having dishonour'd
+your Order.
+
+_Mart._ I shall find another time to answer you.
+
+_Old Lar._ Hold, Sir, hold. I have too much Charity not to cleanse you,
+as much as possible, from your Pollution. So, Who's there? [_Enter
+Servants._] Here take this worthy Gentleman, and wash him a little in a
+Horse-pond, then toss him dry in a Blanket.
+
+_1 Serv._ We will wash him with a Vengeance.
+
+_All._ Ay, ay, we'll wash him.
+
+_Mart._ You may repent this, Mr. _Laroon_.
+
+
+SCENE _the Last_.
+
+_Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Jourdain, _Priest_, Isabel, _and_
+Beatrice.
+
+_Priest._ Tho' he deserves the worst, yet consider his Order, Mr.
+_Laroon_.
+
+_Old Lar._ Sir, he shall undergo the Punishment, tho' I suffer the like
+afterwards. Well, Master _Jourdain_, I hope you are now convinced, that
+you may marry your Daughter without going to Purgatory for it.
+
+_Jourd._ I hope you will pardon what is past, my good Neighbour. And
+you, young Gentleman, will, I hope, do the same. If my Girl can make you
+any amends, I give you her for ever.
+
+_Yo. Lar._ Amends! Oh! She would make me large Amends for twenty
+thousand times my Sufferings.
+
+_Isa._ Tell me so hereafter, my dear Lover. A Woman may make a Man
+amends for his Sufferings before Marriage; but can she make him amends
+for what he suffers after it?
+
+_Yo. La._ Oh! think not that can ever be my Fate with you.
+
+_Old Lar._ Pox o' your Raptures. If you don't make her suffer before
+to-morrow-morning, thou art no Son of mine, and if she does not make you
+suffer within this Twelve-month: Blood she is no Woman--Come, honest
+Neighbour, I hope thou hast discovered thy own Folly and the Priest's
+Roguery together, and thou wilt return and be one of us again.
+
+_Jourd._ Mr. _Laroon_, if I have err'd on one side, you have err'd as
+widely on the other. Let me tell you, a Reflexion on the Sins of your
+Youth would not be unwholesome.
+
+_Old Lar._ 'Sblood Sir! but it wou'd. Reflexion is the most unwholesome
+thing in the World. Besides, Sir, I have no Sins to reflect on but those
+of an honest Fellow. If I have lov'd a Whore at five and twenty, and a
+Bottle at forty; Why, I have done as much good as I could, in my
+Generation; and that, I hope, will make amends.
+
+_Isa._ Well, my dear _Beatrice_, and are you positively bent on a
+Nunnery still?
+
+_Bea._ Hum! I suppose you will laugh at me, if I shou'd change my
+Resolution; but I have seen so much of a Priest to-day, that I really
+believe, I shall spend my Life in the Company of a Lay-man.
+
+_Old Lar._ Why, that is bravely said, Madam, S'bud! I like you, and if I
+had not resolv'd, for the Sake of this Rascal here, never to marry
+again, S'bud! I might take you into my Arms: And I can tell you, they
+are as warm as any young Fellow's in _Europe_--Come, Master _Jourdain_,
+this Night, you and I will crack a Bottle together, and to-morrow
+morning we will employ this honest Gentleman here, to tack our Son and
+Daughter together, and then I don't care if I never see a Priest again
+as long as I live.
+
+_Isa._ [to _Yo. Lar._] Well, Sir. You see we have got the better of all
+Difficulties at last. The Fears of a Lover are very unreasonable, when
+he is once assured of the Sincerity of his Mistress,
+
+  For when a Woman sets her self about it,
+  Nor Priest, nor Devil can make her go without it.
+
+
+_FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+
+  Text in italics is surrounded with underscores: _italics_.
+
+  Inconsistencies in spelling have been retained from the original.
+
+  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected as follows:
+    Page 37: Assignanation changed to Assignation
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Old Debauchees. A Comedy (1732), by
+Henry  Fielding
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OLD DEBAUCHEES. A COMEDY ***
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