The Old Debauchees. A Comedy. Henry Fielding
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.
Mart. Peace be with you all, Good People.
Old Lar. Peace cannot stay long in any Place where a Priest comes.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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