Chapter III: 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.