Генри Филдинг
The Old Debauchees. A Comedy
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.
