_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.