A new play call'd The Pragmatical Jesuit new-leven'd a comedy
Carpenter, Richard, d. 1670?

Act 2. Scen. 5.

Enter my Lord Liberal, and Mrs. Do∣rothy his Nice.
L. Lib.

Sweet Nice, unhinge your heart from that low-orb'd Religion of Popery, which thus imperils both your Soul and Body.

Dor.

My Lord, I cannot. All which that Religion proposes, goes parallel with the most pure, chast, and refined Truths. If you do not relinquish me to my own liber∣ty, I shall weep, until I have not another little drop to stagnate in my eyes as want∣ing strength to follow the rest.

L. Lib.

What a deep-wrought and root∣ed Delusion is this? If Ignorance hath not uncoyn'd your Soul, and rendred you un∣reasonably renacious of your own Judg∣ment; If your heart be not in a total E∣clipse and Epilepse by the vigorous reverbe∣rations of self-Opinion, you will book it there, that all your noble friends are o∣therwise devoted.

Dor.

My Friends are not competent Presidents to me for the carriage of my own heart. Noble Unkle, If you take me off from this divine foundation, I shall ever be in a rolling condition, ever like a float∣ing Island, or the Sea-weed, and never se∣curely know where to take or keep root.

L. Lib.

They are the Jesuits that have done this: they have out-channel'd their Talents; led them through all the Me∣anders and Labyrinths of Errour, and sta∣ted them incompatible and inconsistent with Truth. Dear Cozen, I pity you; you have taken a wandring Star for the Pole.

Dor.

Noble Sir, you borrow your name from the Nobleness of our Family: I con∣jure you by all the lineal and collateral de∣scents of it, to allow me liberty of Con∣science.

L. Lib.

I may not: My Conscience swaies me the other way. You want no∣thing: No Pleasures are denied to you; of which my House flowes with Variety. you are in the Milky way to peace of mind, if you can bend your heart to walk in it.

Dor.

There is no peace without the qui∣et enjoyment and exercise of Religion.

Enter Lucifuga.
Lucif.

Madam, I belong to a most Re∣verend Father of the Society, to whom your most distressed condition is made known. He will be here quickly, and you may have the benefit of Confession.

Dor.

Dear Boy, that cannot be; I am not permitted to speak with any person in private.

Lucif.

Madam, the Father is wise: hee'l find a way.

L. Lib.

Poor Girl! I bleed inwardly for her: Before she fell into this Trance, her Soul was encaged and engaged like a Bird of Paradise in a pure Body; like the Bird which the Indians call in their Lan∣guage Manuco Diata, Aviculam Dei, the little Bird of God, because it is never seen on the ground, but dead: She was drest modestly, and like one of the Sister-hood: Now her hair is mathematically trim'd, curl'd figure-fashion, and with exquisite Artifice woven into Nets and Snares. Page  19 Howsoever her heart is qualified, she hath more of the world upon her back, than for∣merly. It is a notorious folly, to be proud of a rich Scarf holding up a lame Arm, or of a gay Garment covering our Nakedness. Escobar the Spanish Jesuit hath open'd a broad way to these loose and heathenish Dresses. O the Jesuits! Surgeons are mo∣dest-handed, wary, and soft in their touches, but Murderers care not where they strike, cut, wound. What's he? A little Devil. Cozen, are you a Witch too, Do you deal with the Devil and all? What are you, Sir∣rah? Whence came you? and to whom do you pertain?

Dor.

Good my Lord, Speak not so much beneath your Blood and Education. It is a Blackamore Boy: Do not such obtrude themselves to us every day in the Streets?

L. Lib.

O Cozen: the Jesuits have be∣mir'd your Affections: and the Will be∣ing surpriz'd with a Passion (be it Love, Anger, or any other) the Understanding in a Soul divested of Prudence, easily conde∣scends, and represents all things of the same colour, the same dimensions with the passion. Troubled water renders not the Sun-beams, though most right and pure in themselves, but distorted. The Chrystal∣line humour wherein the visive power is Queen Regent, is ot colour'd. Winnow and sift your heart, to find and single out that which threw you into this Abyss. He that fals into the water by the breaking of the Ice, must rise where he fell, or he is lost beyond recovery.

Dor.

My Lord, I am your Votary, but I am grounded; I stick close to my Root.

L. Lib.

Pray come up to my Proposals: I will send for one who shall free the Ho∣nour of all our Doctrines, which your fan∣cy either from the multiplying or extenua∣ting Glass, mishapes to you.

Dor.

Your Lordship may send for him, but I shall not entertain him: He will be as unwelcom unto me as a Spectre.

L. Lib.

Then let some of your own Learned Acquaintance be call'd, to plain as with a Roller, a Cylinder, the way before you: or, be your own Physitian: Cozen, clean the Gold and keep it: Select the Gold, and throw aside the drossie part: and amongst other things you find, find your Errour: You see, sweet Cozen, that I de∣sire to descend into your heart gently, as the Sun-beams into a Chamber through the window, without opening the Casement, or breaking the Glass.

Dor.

My Lord, you miscenter your hopes. Your Lordship will never be able to pull the Thorn of scruple out of my Conscience. Good my Lord, surrender me to my Medi∣tations. Solitariness is my best Compa∣nion.

L. Lib.

I do, but with some kind of Regret.

Exit L. Liberal.

Dor.

We who are upon the earth, de∣termining and sentencing from the verdict of Sense, fancy, at the least in our first Ap∣prehensions, these things below to be great, and the glorious and shining Bodies above, to be small: If we were advanced to the place where the Stars are, these things would appear to us very small, if seen at all, and those would shew themselves: It sticks in the narrowness of my mouth; I put it over to my thoughts. O the little∣ness and vileness of these inferiour things! In natural things, the higher the Sun mounts, the less shadows it casts: and in artificial things, the Pyramid ascending higher and higher, is lesser still and lesser: So manner'd ought we to be in our out∣ward deportment.

Page  20Enter Lucifuga, and one like an Angel. Musick.
Lucif.

Act it to the life now, and you fasten her. A young Maid believes and loves with equal readiness.

Exit Lucif.

Aug.

Maid: Heaven greets you: I come not to way-lay your Devotions, but so raise and perpetuate them. Let not your Unkle with his out-stretch't perswasions lay or alhy your Zeal. Hereticks are mer∣ciless, Iron-breasted, Rock-hearted, and people of hardned and petrified Bowels: There is no seed, no footstep of Mercy in then; only perhaps now and then certain arreptitious emications and Star-twinck∣lings of natural, moral, and old-Roman ten∣derness. If any of these, walking in the painted Galleries of their Imagination, fancy they do works of mercy, when they do thus and thus because others have done so and so before them, they miscarry; For their Mercy is as their Belief, is beleper'd by it; and the stream cannot be cleaner, clearer, higher than the Fountain, or the Branch purer and more generous than the Root. The Magnetisme of Piery hath wrought upon you; and the Torpedo and Remora, the World and Heresie, the De∣vils Factors, should act no farther by their secret Influx upon your Breast: You have given your Faith to the Firmament, and you must not follow in the train of the Pla∣nets; that is, move on, and retrait in the same Line, and in going forward be som∣times periodical and stationary. You are Heaven-sixt: beware of sublunary Divini∣ty. Relapses are dangerous: because Na∣ture after a sickness is unarm'd, and left un∣able to resist their Assaults. You must pass as a beloved Mirrour of Patience, through all the Topicks and Tacticks of Affliction: which like Galilaeus his Glass, brings most remote things near to you.

Fear not: He that exhorts to what you do,
Joyns two in one, exhorts and praises too.
Exit.
Dor.

I am scarce yet recollected. O now for an eye-cataclysme, till I go to the place where this Angel dwels, by water in mine own Tears.

Religion that calls Angels from above,
Shewes the divinest Intercourse of Love.
Exit Dorothy.