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?