Priest. Tho' he deserves the worst, yet consider his Order, Mr. Laroon.
Old Lar. Sir, he shall undergo the Punishment, tho' I suffer the like afterwards. Well, Master Jourdain, I hope you are now convinced, that you may marry your Daughter without going to Purgatory for it.
Jourd. I hope you will pardon what is past, my good Neighbour. And you, young Gentleman, will, I hope, do the same. If my Girl can make you any amends, I give you her for ever.
Yo. Lar. Amends! Oh! She would make me large Amends for twenty thousand times my Sufferings.
Isa. Tell me so hereafter, my dear Lover. A Woman may make a Man amends for his Sufferings before Marriage; but can she make him amends for what he suffers after it?
Yo. La. Oh! think not that can ever be my Fate with you.
Old Lar. Pox o' your Raptures. If you don't make her suffer before to-morrow-morning, thou art no Son of mine, and if she does not make you suffer within this Twelve-month: Blood she is no Woman—Come, honest Neighbour, I hope thou hast discovered thy own Folly and the Priest's Roguery together, and thou wilt return and be one of us again.
Jourd. Mr. Laroon, if I have err'd on one side, you have err'd as widely on the other. Let me tell you, a Reflexion on the Sins of your Youth would not be unwholesome.
Old Lar. 'Sblood Sir! but it wou'd. Reflexion is the most unwholesome thing in the World. Besides, Sir, I have no Sins to reflect on but those of an honest Fellow. If I have lov'd a Whore at five and twenty, and a Bottle at forty; Why, I have done as much good as I could, in my Generation; and that, I hope, will make amends.
Isa. Well, my dear Beatrice, and are you positively bent on a Nunnery still?