_Isa._ Into a Cloister, I assure you. _Old Lar._ A Cloister!--Why, Madam, if you have a mind to hang your self at the Year's End; would it not be better to spend your Time in Matrimony than in a Nunnery? Don't let a Set of rascally Priests put strange Notions in your Head. Take my Word for it, and I am a very honest Fellow, there are no Raptures worth a Louse, but those in the Arms of a brisk young Cavalier. Of all the Actions of my Youth, there are none I reflect on with so much Pleasure as having burnt half a Dozen Nunneries, and delivered several hundred Virgins out of Captivity. _Bea._ Oh! Villany! unheard of Villany! _Isa._ Unheard of till this Moment I dare swear. _Old Lar._ Out of which Number there are at present nine Countesses, three Dutchesses, and a Queen, who owe their Liberty and their Promotion to this Arm. SCENE III. _Old_ Laroon, _Young_ Laroon, Isabel, Beatrice. _Old Lar._ You are a fine Spark truly to let your Father visit your Mistress before you--'Sdeath! I believe you are no Son of mine. Where have you been, Sir? What have you been doing, Sir, hey? _Y. Lar._ Sir, I have been at my Devotions. _Old Lar._ At your Devotions! nay, then you are no Son of mine, that's certain. Is not this the Shrine you are to offer up at, Sirrah! Is not here the Altar you are to officiate at?--Sirrah! you have no Blood of mine in you. I believe you are the Bastard of some travelling _English_ Alderman, and must have come into the World with a Custard in your Mouth. _Y. 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_. SCENE IV. _To them_ Martin. _Mart._ Peace be with you all, Good People. _Old Lar._ Peace cannot stay long in any Place where a Priest comes. [_Aside._ _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.