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

Act. 4. Scene 5.

Sr John Wit-little a sleep on a Couch: the Boy standing by. Enter F. Robert in his habit of a Monk, with writings.
Rob.

I am restor'd hither from Paris. And though the Jesuits, Jesuitically call me the Benedictines Carrier; because I convey Boyes and Maids out of England to holy places, that is, Monasteries and Nunneries, yet in truth I am an honou∣rable Procuratour for the Benedictines. I have put on my habit here, that I might appear the more venerable to this Knight, whose vast Estate we sit brooding upon, that we may bring it into the light ours. The Writings are here drawn, and he is answerable to us, by the procuration of this good Boy, both in Religion, and all our other Desires. We intend him for one of our Monasteries abroad: that he, like the Eagle hovering over the Empe∣rour's Corps, yeelded up and exposed to the funeral Flames, may be elevated from the Earth towards Heaven, while his Estate perishes from him under him. It will suit more analogically, according to Logick with us, than with him. Our Vocation is more high, our lives are more holy, our Persons are sacred. Be∣sides, we have reform'd his Soul; for the which, his Estate, though great, is but a small paiment: If he were able to exonerate both the Indies into our laps, he could not require us worthily. Our Abby of Lambspring we subtilly reco∣ver'd from the Lutherans: we fool'd a doting old Abbot with false Alarums out of England, till he invested us in our Colledge at Doway: Our Parisian House we purchas'd by setting a Death's-Head, or the Head of a carrion Calf, upon a Page  47 Man's Body: Our House at Dulewort we bought with a portion of a Ghost-led Maid, who now lives neer us there, affli∣ctedly upon our alms, and repents of her mistaken Charity. Our Priory at St Mal∣loes came feather'd by a French Merchant, whom we piously inveigled to his undo∣ing, and afterwards inserted, though a¦forreign Plant, into our holy Congrega∣tion. And if this fair Estate be added upon a particular and enclosed account, it will nobly support us in England: and we shall be congenerous and homogene∣ous (I never went beyond Logick) with our selves.

He wakes.

Lucifug.

Sr John, you have well slept.

Wit-l.

My Angel-fac'd Boy, I dreamt of thee; thou tak'st up all my Thoughts; thou begin'st, thou endest, and thou art my whole Business.

Lucifug.

Reverend Father, pray shew Sr John the Writings.

Rob.

Here they are, Sr John.

Wit-l.

I, I, I, take all, and more than all. I'le set my Hand and Seal to the Writings.

Rob.

Good Sr John grants all, while you syllogize: I speak not beyond Lo∣gick; when I had learn'd the Fallacies, I had learn'd enough.

Wit-l.

My only bliss is to move after the steerige of my dear Boy.

Rob.

Sr John, when you are dead, you will find your Lands again in another Countrey with advantage.

Wit-l.

I doubt it not, Reverend Fa∣ther; you speak Oracles, I sacrifice to you. Take all, reserv'd that I may not dis-anchor from the love of my snow and milky-fac'd Boy: His face is the milky way that leads to Jupiter's Throne.

Rob.

Sr John, our most charitable, and our most noble Benefactour, by virtue of these writings, when they have their Pass from your hand and seal, your whole Estate is by you given and made over to a faithfull friend of ours, that negotiates for us.

Wit-l.

Even to whom you please.

Rob.

Had I the least dram or grain of Conscience, this should not be done. The man is Civilitèr mortuus, as the Lawyers tongue it, defunct and dead in Law: he is not himself. If one write a Will or Testament, and hold the Pen with a dead Man's hand, that Will will not hold in Law: It was not his Will; because it was not written by him, with Virtue derived from any principle of life in him. Some Law I have: No man can cheat ad unguem, quickly and neatly, without a little knowledge of Law. But peace barking Dog, Conscience, Peace; check me not. Quodibetical Brains have Consciences of all sorts and sizes, large, little, short-wasted. Then Sr John, you will ratifie and confirm these Writings be∣fore witnesses.

Wit-l.

Yes, if my dear Boy speak An∣gel-lik, and say I.

Rob.

And you will retire immediately to a Monastery.

Wit-l.

I remit all to my fair Poy's can, did Brest.

Rob.

Then I have well preach'd: enough for this time. As the great Scar∣let-traind Cardinal at Rome, the Son of a Fisherman, when he had gain'd possessi∣on of the Porphiry-Chair, remov'd the Net, which he had formerly set in view, as a Memorial of his low Parentages mottoing his action with these pithy words, The Fish is caught.

Exeunt.