A new play call'd The Pragmatical Jesuit new-leven'd a comedy
Carpenter, Richard, d. 1670?
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Enter Galen Junior, a Physitian. He holds up a Ʋrinal with water in it, and looks on the water.
IT is high-colour'd, shews the blood's inflam'd,
Yet pretty clear. Th' Evil may well be nam'd
Without offence. Somthing I find of waight
Sink to the Deep; which Mist-like, rises straight,
And clears again. I cannot rightly call
This a Distemper, when I judge of all.
Gentlemen, help a little, look with me,
Whose Water judge you this I cast to be?
You know not. No? Nor shall I tell in hast,
Lest then perhaps the man himself be cast,
More than his Water. This I freely say,
The Poets Water 'tis that made the Play.
And yet no Water-Poets. The Play then,
Is high, and clear, and deep, and clear again,
Just as the Poets Water. Who indeed.
Had he not been a Patient forc't to bleed,
Had never Poetiz'd. By this I know
He looks on the Water▪
He's rendred Poet from this Comick Shew.
He courts you all by me, and recommends
His Jesuit in the Play, to you as Friends.
For him abroad: He gives you notice how
The Dev'l himself is turn'd Jesuit now.
Yet thus declares; He quarrels not with all,
Only with Devilish and Pragmatical
Church-Empericks. As he is, be you mild:
He kils the Dragon, but he spares the Child.