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