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

Act. 3.

Scen. 1.

Enter Lucifer, and Lucifuga.
Lucifer.

NOw the many-wir'd Plot works. My Engineers from the School of Vain-Glory, have wild-fir'd all Places. The Souldier shines gloriously in the Field under my Standard: The Law∣yer tongue; it nimbly at the Bar in my Cause: The Physitian gains upon dying people, and extorts Moneys and Gifts to foment the Combustion: The Preacher is altogether declamatory and fulminating a∣gainst mine and his Enemies. The Courti∣er, Citizen, Countreyman nobly maintain their Triangle. My Out-landers have spur∣red up the Spirits of neighbouring Nati∣ons, from the earth into theayr, where they sly (like the Vulture hovering over the Lion and the wild-Boar in their comba∣tings, as hoping to devour the Carcases of both.) In this Tropick of things, I have seated the Provincial of our Society here with his Council, in a Noble House near to London-Wall; whence they dispatch e∣very day the most nimble-witted Mem∣bers of our Society, into the Conventicles, and Army. When the people are pull'd up by the root from Religion, they must needs fall back upon ours.

Enter Madam Vain-Glory, and Pretty.

Come, come: Are ye fitted in all Points?

Vaing.

We are, Most Reverend Fa∣ther.

Lucifer.

Thou and thy Maid look as in∣nocently as a placid and fair Child pressing the Teat. Let's away.

Exeunt.

Page  23

Act 3. Scen. 2.

Enter Lord Liberal, Sr. John Wit-little, Mrs. Dorothy.
L. Lib.

Come, Sr. John Wit-little; This is alwaies the merriest day of the week with us; though indeed mirth cannot well at∣temper it self to these new-born Troubles: but we hope the storm will not long rage, it is so violent. The Transision in Musick from a Discord to a Concord, is very swee: from a Concord to a Discord, harsh and unpleasant.

S. John.

My Lord: I could wish you would conclude a final and happy Concord betwixt me and Mrs. Dorothy.

Dor.

That will never be concluded, Sir John Wit-little.

Sr. John.

And pray, why, fair Mrs. Dorothy?

Dor.

Because you are Sir John Wit-little.

Sr. John.

I am sure, there is not only Wit-little, but also little Wit in that An∣swer.

L. Lib.

Let her be as free as Ayr in her Speeches: you shall have her in the Exit of the Business.

Dor.

But he shall never hold her.

S. John.

Mrs. Dorothy, it will be your securest way to take me. I'le be a Papist or Atheist or any thing to please you.

Dor.

You have not understanding e∣nough to be a Papist, nor sufficient Wit to be an Atheist.

S. John.

I have understanding enough, to adore you as my Saint, wit enough to worship you as my Image.

Dor.

Fie, fie, Sr. John; You are pro∣phane.

S. John.

I will not be prophane to please you: and to please you, I will be prophane again; if you please, that I will.

L. Lib.

Sr. John, Let her abound in her own sense.

S. John.

Sense! I am almost in a mind, she's deprived of all her Senses, that can∣not see, nor hear, nor smell, nor tast nor touch enough in me to make her love me: Madam, Speak punctually, and to the Needle's point, Will you have me?

Dor.

I shall then speak sharply: No.

S. John.

Why then, I'le marry thy Wir.

Dor.

Sr. John, you must first find another Wit to match it.

Sr. John.

Must I, whether I can or no?

Enter Lucifer, Madam Hypocrisie, Pretty, Lucifuga.
Lucifer.

Wher's this Noble Lord, whose nature so perfectly consorts with his name? and who is so large-handed and boundless in his Entertainments, the Lord Libe∣ral?

L. Lib.

Sir, I am the Master of this Place.

Lucifer.

In a good and auspicious hour you speak it: My Lord, we understood, that this was your weekly day of Jollity, and I was bold to bring my wife in my hand with me; that we might ive up the rich experience of your Noble Entertain∣ment.

L. Lib.

Ye are welcom. This can be no Priest or Jesuit, he has a Wife. We stand out of the Gun-shot of danger. Sir, our Manner and Oeconomy is, first to dance, and then to banquet. We excuse no Gen∣tile Person that enters.

Lucifer.

My Lord, I run all honourable hazards among Friends.

Vaing.

Madam, This is a good man, as they are call'd, a Priest, and Father of the Society: now time, and opportunity invite you to Confession.

Page  24
Dor.

But I want the coveniency of pri∣vacy.

Vaing.

Madam, you may do it in the Dance: It hath been practised by the Learned Society, in case of Necessity.

Dor.

I thank you: I shall not fail to im∣brace the present occasion.

L. Lib.

Come, Gentlemen, and Ladies, sort your selves.

In the Dance she meets him often, often turns with him, and laies, her mouth to his ear. In the end of the dance she gives him Gold.
Lucifer.

This is a Child worth Gold: Her hand was double-pav'd with twenty Shilling Pieces: This Golden Girl must not be neglected: Give her notice, that I will visit her often: the manner thus.

L. Lib.

Friends, and Strangers, the Banquet attends you within.

Exeunt.

Act 3. Scen. 3.

The Singing Cobler in his Shop at work. He Sings.
Cobl.
In eighty eight (mark well my Song,)
The Spaniards were so bold a,
They came with an Armado strong,
To kill both young and old a,
They brought their Swords, Guns, Pikes, and whips,
To make us all confess a,
Our hidden Gold, to load their Ships,
Then kill us nevertheless a:
Take heed, poor Spaniards, stay and muse,
The water's not your Friend a,
Ye will be used as ye use,
If you with us contend a:
This failing, Jesuits laid a Plot,
To blow up Parliament a,
A thing can never be forgot,
That was so bloodily meant a,
They thought to roast us all alive,
And send us t' Heaven flying a:
But we it seems do them survive
Here miserably dying a:
Take heed; poor Jesuits, stay and muse,
The Fire is not your Friend a,
Ye will be used as ye use,
If you with us contend a:
At length all Priests become so rude,
So fraught with Spirit and life a,
That they mix with the multitude,
And blow the Coals of strife a:
They babble in the Conventicle,
And Quake it in the Field a,
To make the minds of men so fickle,
Resign to them and yield a:
Take heyd, poor Priestlings, stay and muse,
The Field is not your Friend a,
Ye will be used as ye use,
If you with us contend a.
Enter Lucifer and Lucifuga.
Lucifug.

Sir, a Pursevant having received Information that you are a Jesuit, pursues you neat at hand: You are visible, though I am not.

Lucifer.

Inspire me, thou quodlibetical Spirit of our Society:

Lucifug.

Sir: You must be as quick as Lightning: he is very near: I almost see his shadow.

Lucifer.

What shop is that?

Lucifug.

A Coblers: they call him the singing Cobler: and most commonly his Songs inveigh against the Papists.

Lucifer.

Friend, Ther's an Angel for thee, lend me thy Apron, Cap, and Tools; and stand thou aside a little: I am in dan∣ger to be arrested.

Alas poor Gentleman!

He sings.
Lucifer.
The English Monks are merry men,
They drink till they are dry a,
Page  25 They laugh at the poor women then.
that gave them Charity a:
The Pursevant passes with a Constable:
They are so drunk they cannot say,
Their Vespers in the Quire a;
So drunk they cannot find the way,
From Dinner to the Fire a:
Ye Monks for sooth, reform your lives,
And now more sober grow a;
Leave Cups of crimson, and mens wives.
And let the Maidens go a:
Good Father Elpheg was so drunk,
He could not find his Bed a,
Beneath his Bedsted there he sunk,
There lay all night and bled a,
Peer Boniface strong water sups,
Three or four times a day a,
Until h'as often in his Cups
Be carried drunk away a:
Ye Monks for sooth—
These Monks ambitious to be rich,
Do silver falsifie a,
How ill becomes this covetous Itch
Those that vow Poverty a?
In publick they look like their Sables
They meditate all kneeling a:
In private, play at Cards and Tables,
Fight, curse, swear, and go reeling a:
Ye Monks for footh——
Are they past beyond ken?
Lucifug.

They are.

Lucifer.

Friend, Happiness attend you.

Cobl.

Many Thanks to your Worship: What pity 'tis, so proper a Gentleman should be arrested?

Exeunt.

Act 3. Scen. 4.

Enter Agrippa.
Agrip.

Gentlemen, I have now cited Rome hither, the seven Hils and all: when you have seen our Scholar there; my helm will be needless; he will presently do his own Arrint, and himself return to you. Ob∣serve him with a near eye; because the place is esteem'd as Caput Orbis, the Head of the world.

Exit.

Enter Fa. Tompson, a Jesuit, and Aristotle Junior.
Tom.

Child, forsooth, Approach not too near; that Image works Miracles: It hath cured the lame and the blind, indeed all kinds of Infirmities: and which is most miraculous, it hath spoken like one of us.

Arist.

Father Tompson, This puts my Belief upon the Rack: And I will ingenu∣ously give you my Reason; because the de∣vil spake first in the old heathenish Images, and this is fac't like an apish Imitation of the Devil.

Tom.

Pray forsooth, Child, doubt not: you must believe it.

Arist.

It stands out of the Zodiack of Reason, out of the Horizon of Science.

Tom.

Forsooth, so do all Miracles: If you were not Aristotle Junior, and a Philo∣sophical Pygmie, but the Aristotle and a Giant amongst Philosophers, you must im∣moveably believe what we reach you. This Backwardness attests to a Dyscrasie in your Soul, a Peacokness in your heart; we may not pride it, especially in matters concer∣ning our adhesion to Religion. Aristotles Image in the Vatican, is more obedient than you.

Arist.

But less intelligent. Father Tom∣pson, I put upon me the name of Aristotle Junior, only to plain it, that I was a young Aristotelian in the University of Cambridge, and opposite to the Ramists.

Tom.

I see forsooth, that you have Pa∣roxysmes still with reference to the old He∣retick Page  26 in you; We of the Society, in whom Learning and Industry, as necessary search∣ers into the Languages Oriental and Oc∣cidental, the Heptarchy of Liberal Sciences, Arts, and all the rich Armories, Closets, and Cabinets of Knowledge, are met and married, believe it. And I desire, that your heart be fidus Achates, a faithful Acha∣tes to the Cause you have undertaken.

Arist.

And I desire, that solid Truth re∣main implanted in me. Truly, Father, it was reported in England by our Miracle∣mongers there, that all the Pictures in a Priests Chamber, the night before he was taken, sweat; and it made me sweat ever after when I thought on't.

Tom.

Child forsooth, I fear that you will miscarry hereafter: The Sieve put into the water, is full: Remove the Sieve out of the water, and the water is out of the Sieve. I know not, with what heart you have come amongst us. The Abyssin or Aethiopian goes into the Bath black, and black returns out of it.

Arist.

Father, I did not take up this Re∣ligion, as those who were born of Parents steering this way; and agreeably educated; who therefore suck so strongly, that they draw bloud in place of Milk, and promiscu∣ously swallow all, because their Friends were all of the same Feather. I embraced it upon a pious and vertuous account. I may as well bring the Arctick and the An∣tartick, the two Poles of the world together, as enforce my heart to close with impudent Falshood, with fallacy that is pellucid and transparent. You may drop this, if you please, into your own heart like Arabian Gumme, and let it congeal and stick there, that your Soul may be there entoom'd, as the Fly or Spider in the Gumme or Am∣ber. My heart will not receive it: May that be alwaies deep-inlaid and enamel'd with known truth: I'le tell you, Father; I saw an Image the other day, that was re∣mov'd with a Procession, to a better lodg∣ing, because it wrought infinite Miracles; and the Image was all over most miserably worm-eaten. Me thinks the Power, if it be a good one, that works these wnoders with reflection upon the Image, should also pre∣serve the miraculous Image from Rotten∣ness, and from the Common people of Creepers the worms. I speak the Dictats of an unbyassed heart; pray interpret all according to the Algebra of Candout.

Image.

Chrissime fili mi, Crede.

Tom.

It speaks: A Miracle, a Miracle, in a fit time, in its proper season.

Arist.

Dear Father, what said it?

Tom.

Chrissime fili mi, Crede: my most dear Child, believe: You believe now, I hope. O, I am rapt, I am in a Trance.

He sits down.
Arist.

The good old Father is transport∣ed in earnest, or he deeply dissembles. Whosoever thou art, if thou wilt gain me, speak my Language: He cannot. This I∣mage is back-fastned to the Wall: I have read of private doors in the old Paganish Images.

He knocks at it.
It is hollow. Who's with∣in there? The Tongue within, cannot speak English; and perhaps no more La∣tine. Still I am Pearl-and-Coral seeking in the bottom of the Ser.

Tom.

A Cunning Youth! What a pre∣cious Father of the Society would this man make? I will hereafter deal more candidly with him.

Arist.

O Father, I am abundantly sa∣tisfied.

Tom.

I am abundantly glad of it, my most dear Child; that's your Name now: We consume our selves like Candles, in our giving light unto others.

Page  27Enter a poor man, as possessed.
Arist.

Father, what man is this that so strangely varies and multiplies his faces, and Postures?

Tom.

It is, my most dear Child, a man possess't with a Devil: The virtue of the Image works this extravagant effect upon him. But I shall be plain with you: I have somthing within me; it burns and moves like Thunder in my Breast, and I cannot hold it from you, except I should cry fire. These dirty people that receive Alms un∣der the name of people possessed with De∣vils, are most exact Counterfeits: if they were truly possess't, they would speak all Languages: The Devil is a prime Master of Languages: He is no Alien from any kind of natural Knowledge. The permissi∣on of these, and the like, are piae fraudes, pious and holy Cousenages; Thus Images and Reliques are worshipped with a more large measure both of inward and outward Worship. We have here in the Market, Relique-sellers; and they are continually in fee with such a man as this, who by his Mimical, Antick, and Tragical Gestures, reconciles those vendible Reliques with the Belief of the People, before whom they are exposed to sale. A thing being set like a Pillar, supposed like a Mathematical Principle or Postulate, and granted as un∣deniably true, we may defend and uphold it by all kind of means.

Arist.

But, Father, this is not ut Scho¦lastici loquuntur, as the Schoolmen speak, who alwaies prescribe, that we should pro∣portion the Means to the End, and that Bonum ex integrâ causâ, Good is from an entire Cause, sejoyn'd from all admixtion of evil.

Tom.

My most dear Child: The Books of the ancient Schoolmen are crowded with polygeneous, impertinent and imper∣vious Doctrines of no worth or weight, not one Grain heavy, as being meer ebulliti∣ons of over-wrought, and Feaver-tired Brains: from the which our modern Divi∣nity is separated by an Ecliptick, as being transacted in Regulam Plumbeam or Lesbi∣am, a Leaden Rule; and bow'd appliably to all our purposes: This Rule then ob∣tains, when the Judge bends the Law to the Cause, and not the Cause to the Law: The things we believe and do, are infalli∣bly true and good: and the Law must be bended to them by a pliable Interpreta∣tion.

Arist.

This Divinity is not divine.

He roares.
Tom.

My most dear Child: The posses't man expects an Alms: Give him one.

Arist.

Notwithstanding all his various and indefinite Motions, his right hand bal∣lanc'd with an Almes, finds the way readi∣ly to his Pocket. How comes it that he foames at the mouth so liberally?

Tom.

That Legerdemain is advanc't from the Apothecaries Shop: And use hath apted his Face, Eyes and Mouth to these horrid Representations. He roars only, when the holy thing is near, or set in view; and then he expects to be loaded with Alms.

Exit.

Having all he can expect, he is gone. My most dear Child: You have seen Mrs. Ward and her Jesuitrices, as tender-headed peo∣ple call them.

Arist.

I have Father. We were six Schol∣lars of us; and they set us at a round Ta∣ble, so placed, that we sate a Scholar and a Maid, a Scholar and a Maid: and which way soever we turn'd our faces, to the right, or to the left, we had a pretty Maid, a Quicksilver-tongu'd Girl to face us. They told: us in the Crowd of other things, that they wrought Miracles in Ger∣many,Page  28 a great way off.

Tom.

Maids do you call them? They were English Chambermaids indeed. And the Miracles they wrought in Germany, were, Three or four of them were there got with child, and afterwards, they miracu∣lously became Maids again. But there is a Bull in agitation, to come forth with a roa∣ring and raging noise, in opposition to Mrs. Ward and her licentious Crew, against which there is no Ward nor Guard. My most dear Child, I am forsooth, very desi∣rous, that because you are upon your Missi∣on for England, you should see Father John Barnes, a Learned Englishman, and a Bene∣dictine Monk, sent to Rome, and committed to the Inquisition here, by his own Order and Countreymen. This place belongs to the Inquisition: I will presently speak with the Fathers of the Inquisition, and give you a call from yonder Window.

Exit.

Arist.

The Sun in Egypt after the Inun∣dation of Nile, heating the Mud, quarter∣makes, & half-makes, and when it perfect∣ly makes, makes but imperfect Creatures, as Frogs, Serpents, and such like. I have read in my Name-sake, every man by na∣ture desires to know: This muddy forging of Miracles will never promote a desiring heart to perfect Knowledge. The Natura∣lists have found by curious Inquisition, that if a Pearl which is foul, be swallowed into the womb of a Dove, and remain there some while; the Dove will give it again most pure and orient: Every thing must be tried and examin'd, according to my Les∣son treasur'd up from the School of Devo∣tion, in the womb of devout Simplicity, which womb will free it from spots, clouds, deformity. Yet I find that in all these er∣roneous deviations, there is some colour or semblance of Truth, or somthing like an Asteriske, or finger pointing to past truths. Thus did the Devils Oracles deliver many sound Truths, the better, under such palli∣ations, to disseminate and publish their most unsound Errours: Thus doth a stink offend us more, when concomitant with some weak Perfume which it hath pro vehi∣culo, than if it singly sets upon us; the per∣fume procuring for the stink, easier admit∣tance into our sense: Thus Poysons are most dangerous and irremediable, when joyned in commission with a Cordial that is not able to resist them; it serving to con∣duct them to the heart, and being unable to vanquish their malignity: Thus the old Fowlers deceived Pigeons by shewing an exoculated Pigeon leaping and dancing in a Net.

F. Tompson from above. Exit Arist,
Tom.

St. From the other

He changes Windows.
Window I call'd him: but this is the window from whence we must be Spectators. It is the Ring-dove that builds her Nest early, and unplumes her skin to soften it with her own Feathers, when oftentimes her self dies of cold. I would endanger my life to write this man ours. The turning Pictures shew oftentimes a Lion on the one side, and a Lamb on the other: I have great hopes, that he carries a Lamb inwardly. Love and hatred are like the two ends of a Perspective-Glass, the one multiplies, the other makes less: I would gladly settle him in a Mean betwixt both.

Aristotle Junior, above.

My most dear Child, I have procur'd a Convenience from the good Fathers here: and we shall see more than ordinary.

Page  29 F. John Barnes, chain'd with a Collar of Iron about his Neck.
Barnes.

The better to discern the Ar∣teries and the Vital Spirits in them, Vesali∣us the Anatomist was wont to cut up men alive: in these they observe the beating of the Pulse. My torturers are more cruel: they search me through and through every day, and yet, I live to see my self out-live my self.

Alex.

Father, I hear him, but, I see him not: Darkness interposes it self; the place is as dark as Hell.

Tom.

You shall see him presently.

Barnes.

Some hold that the soul is ex¦traduce; and that one man begets ano∣ther, Body and Soul; and that the Soul is enlightned from the Father, as a Candle from a Candle; otherwise, say they, a man begets but half a man, and stands many stairs lower than a Beast, that begets the whole Beast; and that the three Faculties of the Soul should be infus'd in man, whereof the two inferiour are begot in Beasts, seems not to be a well-cemented Truth.

Alex.

He talkes idly.

Tom.

They have design'd him for mad∣ness; because he was Master of a dange∣rous Head-piece.

Enter one with a Torch, like a Damn∣ed Spirit.
Spirit.

O Barnes, Barnes, The torments that I feel, are most unsufferable: and out∣strip, out-run, out-fly humane Apprehensi∣on. Thou wilt quickly be in the same Cir∣cle of Condition with me.

Barnes.

Who art thou?

Spirit.

A Damned Spirit; who when I was a Passenger in the world, was affected as thou art, and affianced to the Religion of wicked and abominable England. I was commanded to tell thee, that two deaths stand gaping for thee with open jawes in thy way; and it is recorded in the black and fatal Volume of Destiny, that both shall swallow thee: The Funeral fire shall resolve thy Body into ashes; and thy soul widdow'd of understanding, shall everlast∣ingly be bedded with me in Hell. Hogs and Dogs, Cats and Rats are more happy than thou and I. I must not stay longer, for fear of discovery. I go: my Tormentor cals.

Exit Spirit.

Barnes.

All things fall out perpendicu∣larly to my fears. I shall be burnt here at Rome: and I shall be damn'd hereafter in Hell: These two, like malevolous and malignant Planets, are in conjunction: I have oculos pumiceos, eyes of Pumice-stone: I cannot weep. These desperate Tormen∣tors have sunk me into desperation: O!

Exit Barnes.
Arist.

The wise Alchymist, in the whole progress of his Art, extracts things purer and purer from grosser things.

Exeunt.

Act 3. Scen. 5.

Enter Lord Liberal, and Sir John Wit-little.
S. John.

My Lord, the Gentleman's Wife that yesterday was your Guest, pro∣mist me the sight of a Quaker this day: I have a great mind to see a Quaker. Their outward appearance is highly com∣mended.

L. Lib.

Sr. John: Toads and Serpents have been found in the midst and heart of the fairest-colour'd Stone or Marble being hollow. I love to be like the Pearl, which is united in it self, and called Ʋnio. If I should put my heart upon the Wheel, to run round, the sequel would be dangerous, Page  30 and perhaps like the famous, or infamous rather, motion of the Wheel, which was first set on going, and then carried about and about, round and round, with Bags of Sand tyde to the Wheel, and falling still as the wheel mov'd more and more forcibly, until the violent motion kindled fire in it, and burnt it out of all Motion, but what the sporting wind bestowed upon the cold ashes.

Enter Vain-glory, Pretty, Lucifer like a Quaker, Lucifuga.
S. John.

Madam: You are welcome to my Father-in-Law's house: by that name I commonly stile him: I see you stand close to your word.

Mad.

Else I were not enstated in that Honesty which I pretend to.

S. John.

Is this your Quaker?

Mad.

Yes, Sr. John: This is the Mufty and Head of the Sect.

S. John.

My Lord, pray speak to him: I am not wife enough.

L. Lib.

Friend: What is your Judg∣ment concerning Religion!

Lucifer.

Thou man, who gave thee Au∣thority, thus to question me, thy Fellow-Creature? I am free, and unquestionable in the matter of Religion.

S. John.

Quaker, You should uncover your head: This is a Lord.

Lucifer.

Man, thou art deceiv'd: I will not put off my Hat, though he be a Lord: He is but a man as I am, and my Fellow by Birth.

L. Lib.

What is your Profession?

Lucifer.

I am a poor ingerant Coun∣treyman, a Cobler by Trade, that profess the knowledge of Truth in a larger size, than ordinary.

L. Lib.

How attain'd you to this Know∣ledge of so large a Circumference, if you be ignorant of Learning?

Lucifer.

By Inspiration.

Vaing.

My Lord, he is inspirited of en∣times, and speaks beyond a man.

L. Lib.

The Comet is perfectly circular, except where it blazes: yet wants the Perfection and perfect Influence of a star: though because it is neerer, it seems fairer: Besides, it is an Upstare, and risen out of gross Matter. Our Quaker blazes only in the business of Religion.

Vaing.

Now his Fit enters upon him. Maid, give him a Chair.

He trembles.

S. John.

This is fine sport.

L. Lib.

The Ague shakes him.

Vaing.

He returns to himself.

Exit

Lucifuga.
Lucifer.

The Nightingale growing fat, cannot sing: I have long fasted. Accord∣ing to the multitude of Operations (be they of the same or a different nature) in which the Soul doth busie her self, she per∣formeth each particular Operation with less obsequiousness and ability, and there∣fore less perfectly. Because the Soul being finite and limited, her active virtue is also limited and finite; and so fitting and ap∣plying her activity to divers operations, she gives the cause that each participateth a less portion thereof. It is not within the Sphere of humane power, that one should at the same very time, observingly contem∣plate the Feature of a mans face, beheld with his eyes, and judiciously bend his Thoughts to the curious and bewitching Strains of Musick intruding upon his Ears; nor in the same instant attentively discern the Differences and several Garbs of Co∣lour and Figure. Had I a hundred Under∣standings, and as many Tongues, I have Matter wherewith to lade and load them. Man, there is yet Terra Incognita, a Land unknown to thee, with respect unto know∣ledge and Religion. The truly knowing Page  31 people, wheresoever they are, are infalli∣ble. He that thinks such a People can fall, fears the ruine of the Firmament, and is more than somwhat like him, who-being Galens Patient, and very sick, told him de∣manding in the morning how he did; that he had been restless and without sleep all the nigh; heaving himself from side to side, and heavily groaning; and had been grievously troubled in seriously thinking, what should become of him (sick man) if Atlas, weary now at last, should steal away his out-worn shoulder, and Heaven, with all the Larks in the Ayr, fall upon him ly∣ing weak in his Bed. Without Infallibility, there is no certainty, no security. And what are all Professors, compar'd to us? They are deckt like heathenish Indians, with fine Feathers; filch't from Birds, that when they were alive, flew near Heaven; while these, because their feathers are ascititious, cannot fly, can scarcely creep. If they raise an old Truth, like the shape of a fair plant or flower in a Glass, they suddenly draw the flame or Candle away, and let it fall to dull Ashes again. Other men are petty Chapmen, and Pedlers of Divinity: Man, if thou wilt know, know that I am the knowing man: And man, thou maiest know it by this: of a simple and ignorant man, I am suddenly exalted above my self by Rapture. Persons ill-affected in their eyes, many times see two things, when but one presents it self: every man in their seeing, hath two heads, four eyes, two Mouths, two Bodies, four hands, as many feet; and is twice himself, and a double man. Man, thou maiest think me double and deceitful, but the fault is in thy Eyes, not in me.

He trembles again.

Vaing.

Now he goes back to the simple man he was.

L. Lib.

This begets wonder. But he that is red through blushing, cannot be said to have a red face: He that is pale through fear, cannot be said to have a pale Countenance. As one good or evil Act ren∣ders not a man morally and throughly good or evil: we being truly nam'd good or evil, just or unjust, from the Habits and the multiplication of Acts issuing from them: so a Fit of Knowledge, fits not a man for the Name of a knowing man.

Enter Mrs. Dorothy, and Lucifuga.
S. John.

O Sweet-heart, Had you been here, you had seen a Quaker in his Fit: He quakes and shakes like the Leaves of a tree in a fresh wind.

Dor.

Such sights are not pleasant to me, Sr. John Little-Wit.

Sr. John.

My Lord, she speaks with the Quaker.

L. Lib.

It matters not: I had rather she were a Quaker than a Papist. Tender In∣fants are most subject to fascination; she has Age.

Lucifer.

Madam, Your Portion being in your own hands; bagg it; and I will find waies to fetch it: Afterwards, I shall con∣vey you to a Nunnery.

Dor.

You will make me happy.

L. Lib.

Come, loving Guests, receive the Civility of the House.

Sr. John.

Madam: You have sign'd us yours by this Favour: How does your hus∣band?

Vaing.

Well, I hope, Sr. John.

Sr. John.

Come Quaker, go with us.

Lucifer.

Man, I follow thee.

Exeunt.

Act 3. Scen. 6.

Enter Mr. Ninny, an Anabaptist.
Nin.

I was directed hither by a Friend belonging to the House, to see a Jesuit in his Habit, who will presently pass this Page  32 way. I am an Exerciser amongst the Bre∣thren of the Separation: My Name is A∣bram Ninny: and it would be a consolati∣on to me, to know by sight of the eye, what manner of man a Jesuit is, and how he goes orderly drest in private.

Enter Aristotle Junior.

This is not he.

Arist.

I am newly return'd from Rome by Sea to London; and I would fain see the Father that sent me over, and debate the business with him, because it answer'd not in all Angles to my Expectation. This is the Jesuits House in the Savoy, that se∣cretly beats the name of their Founder. One thing more, lies gnawing at my heart: I find a strange fall of the Leaf in my own Countrey: Every man has moulded a new Religion to himself. I have a Vision: I am haunted with Visions, being newly come from Rome: Me thinks, this House is like a Theater, and throng'd with people. Gentlemen: I'le open to you a Secret, lock'd up in the close Cabinet of my Thoughts. But, I pray, keep it as a Secret, and tell it not abroad: neither let it pass into the cold ayr: We experimentally find in the world, that Princes have their Jayle; for Offenders, and their Bedlams for mad people: And I know, that—I dare better shew towards him with my hand, than name him here, is the greatest of Princes; and that Hell is his Jayle. And in good sooth I never heard or read of sto∣ried forth, never beheld a place, which can now more appliably be call'd his Bedlam than England. But ye will say, How so? England a Bedlam? the great Bedlam of the world? Are all the people of England mad? Soft and fair. I Answer: No. For in a Bedlam-house, the mad people have their sober Keepers, their wise Physitians, their civil Waiters and Servants; and al∣so those, whose Office it is to whip them, and thereby to awake and recal their senses; and one of the last, I hope I shall be. Thet's the Secret.

Enter Lucifer, in the Habit of a Jesuit.
Lucif.

O I am rob'd, I am rob'd; I had a Purse of Gold given me this morning by a Noble woman-penitent, which she stole from her Husband; and another he-peni∣tent coming afterwards, has pickt my pock∣et and rob'd me of it; O Villain, Miscre∣ant, Caitiffe! According to Learned Fa∣ther Escobar, he is damn'd already. The Rogue came to Confession to me, kneel'd humbly at my feet, confessed with a sad voyce, an humble mouth, sigh'd, sob'd, groan'd, shak'd his head, look'd like a Car∣case, and with a face equally divided and shar'd betwixt sorrow and care: he cried too; the vile Knave wept, as I thought, heartily; the tears ran hastily down his Cheeks, as if there were a modest conten∣tion, or striving betwixt his Cheeks, which should▪ deliver his tears soonest to his bosom: he kept his Right and righ∣teous hand acting & tabering at his heart, while with his other hand, his unrighteous hand, left-handed Rascal, he pick'd my Pocket, and got away my Purse, my Purse of Gold, containing as much pure Gold, as being well husbanded by our secular Procu∣rator, would have given our Body here a full and copious Dinner every Thursday at our Garden-house of Recreation, I mean, every one six Dishes, whereof one should have been a fat plump Partridge, or som∣thing, as the Logicians speak, equipollent, to the worlds end. The Curse of our Gene∣ral, and of all our Sociey be upon him: The Curse and the Firebrand thrown down Page  33 from the top of the Great Church at Rome, follow him.

Arist.

Father, Father, this Passion does not become you, sits not well upon your forehead.

Lucif.

Are not you the Thief? you are like him.

Arist.

Look upon me well, good Father, and with unpassion'd eyes.

Lucif.

O my good Child, are you come again? Forsooth, I am glad to see you. How relish you the good things in forreign Parts?

Arist,

Father, tanquam in tabellâ, in brief. First, you sent your Letter of com∣mendations by me, and it had certain pri∣vate Marks in the bottom, according to your private Book of Rules, Politick rules, printed at Rome, and no where else, which I have now seen; and this was to signifie to the Jesuits, that if I refused to be a mem∣ber of your Society, they might use me ad libitum, at their pleasure. Secondly, You sent Letters every Moneth to the English Colledges at S. Omers, at Valladolid in Spain, and at Rome where I was, to be read in the hearing of all the Scholars; and these Letters recounted wondrous things as done in England, disgraceful to the English, though conducing to the confirmation of the Scholars in their Judgments, which things were neither done, nor feasible. The Business of Garnets Straw was meet Forge∣ry; the Painter afterwards discover'd his own Folly, and yours; and your different Pictures of the Straw (I have seen them) gave evidence against you. Fox, the Au∣thour of the famous Martyrology, never be∣liev'd his Head was an Urinal. The Learn∣ed Church-man of England, did not die a Papist. I could exasperate your ears with a thousand of these. Thirdly, I never yet saw a Jesuit or other Priest, of whom I could honestly say, this is a just man, his Heart and his Tongue concur, Truth and his Tongue are Unison: They are Mounte∣banks in Religion, and have Spawns of De∣ceit and Equivocation in their Mouths: they religiously keep Matchavels Rule; Bespatter thy Adversary with all sorts of Dirt and filth, aliquid for sit àn adhaerebit; it is likely that somwhat of it will stick close to him. Fourthly,—

Nin.

This is the Jesuit, in the Habit of his Order: a very passionate man: And now I look better upon him, this man ex∣ercis'd in our Chair the other day, habited as I am. Jesuit, I defie thee.

Lucif.

Who are you?

Nin.

A Brother of the Separation. I de∣fie thee, Jesuit.

Lucif.

How came you hither?

Nin.

Upon my Legs. Jesuit, I defie thee. Thou art an Impostor, a Deluder: thou hast polluted and contaminated our Chair, and I will burn it. I defie thee, Jesuit.

Lucif.

Cnipperdoling, vanish. Thee I defie.

Nin.

Romes Janizary, I defie thee.

Arist.

Gentlemen, I defie you both. But you two are not so tender-hoof'd, but you may stable closer together, if you please. You both know, or have reason to know, that I know you both. Come, come, stand as far off as you can one from the other: Ile bring you together, I warrant you. Jesuit, and Brother of the Separation: First, Are Page  34 ye not both wild-fire-heated, and con∣temners of Government, if heteroclite from your Designes? This cannot be de∣nied: the meridian Sun is not more visible. Come both a little nearer, for this first rea∣son. Again, you brother of the Separation, have not you kicked against lawfull Go∣vernment, instigated by the Grounds and Reasons of the Jesuits, their Schoolmen, Controvertists, Casuists; have you not co∣pied your Motives and Arguments out of their Champions? do not I know you have? Neerer now on each side. Yet again. Do you not both in all Nations, where there is an overswaying and prevalent party, conso∣ciate, side, vote, and dance in the same Fairy Ring, against the party authorized by the swaying Power? Ye do, ye do: Nearer, nearer yet. I have brought you to half-way Tree on both sides. Still on. Vox populi, the voice of the people who best know you, as with an irresistible charm will bring you neerer on both quarters. Are not you nam'd the Puritanical Jesuit, and you the Jesuitical Puritan? Neerer again. I follow the chase. Are ye not both so fevere and rigid in your Directions, Instructions, Counsils, as if ye were both Enthusiasm'd with a singular spirit above all others? Now ye are within the stretch of arms. Do ye not both with the same quibble of cunning insinuate into houses by mens wives, and there Lord it over their Husbands and the whole Family? I must not exceed my por∣tion of time, and speak from the Center beyond the Periphery. Now come close together, joyn hands, imbrace according to the Jesuitical Hugg. Why now ye are friends. O let poor deluded England, be now asham'd of what is past, be provident and circumspect for hereafter. All was Je∣suitical: the Jesuit as the evil Genius, was the true and only Malignant: In all the combination and complication of the ma∣ny-headed Factions, he had access by him self or his Agents to the chief Actours while he blew the coles, with Julian, at the Devil's Altar. And now ye are coupled Ile tell you a Story; it hath, Janus-like, two faces, as looking Romeward and hi∣therward. Rome was with Child, and she brought forth her eldest Son, the Bene∣dictine; to him as the Heir she gave her Lands: She remain'd free a while; at length was with child again, and brought into the light two children, the Dominican and the Franciscan; to the first, having given away her Lands, she gave certain Houses and monies in a Pensionary man∣ner; to the other, having nothing left, the Wallet, and set him out of doors a beging. She stood clear again, till at last she was mountain-big with child; She long'd, she groan'd, she drew her breath short, she made store of outlandish faces: In the conclusion she gave into the world a lusty Boy, who being newly born utter'd from behind the Midwifes lapfull, a sign of good luck; this was the Jesuit: His Mother ha∣ving given away Lands, Houses, Wallet, took him up, gave him a smart clap on the right buttock, and said, My dearling, shift for thy self; and he did so most accurately. Turn the story hither: Our Mother here was with child, and with child, again, and again. I so much honour the first-born chil∣dren, that I shall not name them in this Comical Air; the Presbyterian himself shall pass by me, without a glance upon him: questionless he means well, though he deserves not this Elogy from me, yet I am so sick of the Jesuit and Monk, that I must praise him. But Brother of the Sepa∣ration, you were the last-born, have run with the Torrent, and shifted for your self, to rejoyce over the Creaturē; and therein you and the Jesuit are uniform. This is all, I take my leave.

Exit.

Page  35
Nin.

And I likewise. Farewell Bro∣ther.

Exit.

Lucif.

Brother, Farewell. I must pro∣ceed to a new leven. The name of Jesuit is now grown ragged, rugged, odious. His murders, equivocations, coosenages, and the like, are over-palpable. I must translate my Crown, Empire, and Per∣son to an Order, having more of pious outside. Let me see: there 'tis: the blessed Benedictine is the man: he that in publick looks not beyond the length of his grave. His antiquity, and the opi∣nion of the people will assist me.

The Principle stands firm, nothing more neat,
Than to delude you with a holy Cheat.
Exit.
Finis Actûs terty.