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

Act. 4.

Scene I.

Enter Agrippa.
Agrip.

YOur Scholar and ours has put to Sea again for France, Mr. Hugh the Comedian-Preacher, came from his Master Fieri-facias to him with such a hanging message, that it discompos'd and tempested his thoughts, put him in∣to a shaking fit: and not without right reason: for one of his Coat and Consti∣tution was left shorter by the head the o∣ther day. He has desir'd of me to render him once again to you from Paris; and I shall do it Presto. But I promist him to present you first with a Dance of Spanish Clowns, as he has seen them Dance in the Church, by Order from the Inquisition, and as the manner is, upon the most festi∣val Dayes, in the Spanish-Churches, be∣fore the highest Altar: this passing with them for a part of devout Worship, and a most excellent work of Devotion. They come: judg you.

Exit.

Enter the Spanish Dancers: they make re∣verence to the Altar, both before the Dance and after: they Dance with their Hats off. Exeunt.

Act 4. Scene 2.

A little Bell Rings. Enter Father Nelson, F. Robert, F. Pri∣or, Monks, one after the other.
F. Nelson.

This Bell calls us to Coun∣sil. Come Father Robert: but where's F. Prior?

F. Rob.

He comes.

Nels.

Reverend Father Prior, having lodg'd this Meteor of a man in the Bastille, we must secure him there by plausible rea∣sons dispers'd amongst the people.

Rob.

Yes, Father Prior, our soundest and profoundest way of proceeding will be, to give amongst the people, that he is an Intelligencer and Spy from the Re∣bels in England, and that there has been a continual intercourse of Letters betwixt them and him.

Pri.

But Fathers, I have heard from persons of untainted reputation that he has been seven times Imprison'd, and twice Plunder'd to the last farthing, in the defence and favour of the Royal Party.

Nels.

It slenders not our cause. The Page  36 business is agitated here, whither such a report can not easily reach; I have other∣wise posses't and fill'd the Chancellor; and ordain'd by his Order and Sanction, that besides his being Dungeon'd, he shall be punish'd beyond humane sufferance; for, as the honest English Taylor holily and cross-legg'd saies: he deserves to be stab'd or have his throat cut.

Rob.

Reverend F. Prior, you have Ca∣pitulum lepidissimum, a notable head-piece; and you look so like a carcass, and with such a mortified countenance, so like the ghost of Godlinesse, that whatsoe∣ver you countenance, will pass for pure and holy. Licence me to speak a free word: you remember, that a Noble Frenchman said to you, Had he but your face in the forefront of his head, he should be able to cozen the whole world.

Pri.

Verily, I was made for my Pri∣orship: I am call'd to it, and my parts are consonant and agreeable. I look like an Anatomy, I speak humbly and with a dy∣ing man's voice, like a Saint, and I do like my self. I declare to you, Fathers, I love not the Prisoner, because my Bro∣ther the Franciscan conspir'd with him in England, professing, that had he been enabled with his parts, he would have turn'd heretick as he did.

Nels.

Fathers, I am your Definitor: let me define for you. We will out-wait this hard Winter. If there be not a settle∣ment in England before the Summer visit us, we will send him to the Inquisition at Rome, and there burn him alive to vile ashes.

Rob.

Father Bennet Nelson, you speak like an Orthodox Brother, rightly de∣scended from Bishop Bonner. I will pro∣cure in England sufficient provision of Monies from the Catholicks there for this godly purpose, who will gladly contri∣bute to such a meritorious work. He is our deadly enemy: he has wrought a∣gainst us mischiefs without president, be∣yond example, above parallel. He wrote a Book in England, and entitled it, The Serpent and the Dragon, or, The Jesuit and the Monk, or, Profession and Pra∣ctice: the Jesuite was but the Serpent, and the Monk was the Dragon. Now the Author is both Serpent and Dragon, and deserves to be burnt beyond ashes if it were possible. Plangenti nemo condolet Draconi: No man condoles with a mourn∣ing Dragon. And before this Book he set his Picture, fetching the Devil out of a Monk in the form of a Pig: Hog as he was.

Pri.

I receiv'd a Letter from St. Mal∣loes, signifying, that he with certain En∣glish Merchants visited our Fathers there, every one bringing his Bottle of Wine, otherwise, as our Fathers there innocent∣ly call it, of Crimson; and our holy Fa∣thers there drank so fully, plentifully and rejoycingly of it, that they told him in the extasie of their joy, he did in very deed deserve to be Canonized by his Ho∣liness for his charity towards them; and yet, both he and the Merchants reported, the good men were drunk, crimson∣fac'd, and drunk with crimson: a very plot.

Nels.

Truly, Father, there was a no∣ble Personage from England here in Paris, that numbred this Varlet amongst his Friends, he call'd him his Chaplain; and one Winter night, they congeal'd into company with a good Father here in Town: he had an imperfection, that he would be drunk every day: in fine, he was overtaken with drink that night, and slept in a chair: and presently they sent for a great Glass of Oyle, (sit down here Page  37 Father Robert, and I will shew the man∣ner,) and powred it upon the bare, bald, and holyest part of his head, saying, O Priest, we annoint thee King of drun∣kards; and leave thee drunk with Wine and drown'd in Oyle.

Rob.

Father Prior, and Father Nelson: I did but kiss a Woman in the Old-Baily at London, and do a little something more to her; and as you shall believe me to be a true child of the Church, I had but one child by her, a dainty Boy, and as like my self, as if I had spat him out of my mouth; and this vile fellow set it going upon wheels through City and Coun∣trey.

Pri.

He is a most pernicious man.

Nels.

Fathers, this our Convent of Paris excepted, (and he has been in Paris many times, and once resided here four years together,) he has liv'd in all our Monasteries through the whole Chri∣stian world: he liv'd in our Abby at Lambspring in Germany, in our Mona∣steries at Doway in Artois, at Dulewart in Lorain, at St. Malloes in Britanny: he knows all our secrets, and all the se∣cret conveyances betwixt the Rebels and us, and has heard from us uncomely words lackying thereunto. None of our Fathers in their Monasteries would re∣ceive him into the Habit, lest he should know more of our inside, and bemire us further: Father Cressy whisper'd to him in his ear, that he was sick of all our Mona∣steries, and he presently talk't it abroad. He fancies to himself a perfection accor∣ding to the Primitive Model; and he de∣sires and seeks according to this his Plato∣nical Idea. F. Prior: It is the setled do∣ctrine of the Jesuites, That he who threa∣tens or intends to publish the secrets of a Religious-House may be lawfully kil'd. Now there is a two-fold manner of kil∣ling: we may kill directly as the Jesuites do, (which is too publick, incurres too much upon the senses,) or indirectly as we. Let those sufferances be multiplied upon him in the Bastille, that no ordina∣ry man can endure without death, (which is a kind of indirect killing:) If his body be of heart-oake, and he scapes this, to the fire and fagot with him at Rome.

Pri.

Fathers, I approve and sanctifie your counsel. Here let us center: The cause is good, the end excellent: the affair must and shall prosper.

Rob.

One word in the by. We have money of his which hath remained dor∣mant in our hands these two years: but he must not have it, lest it should serve to manage him into England, if he should break Prison. And whereas he is upon our account unraveld three hundred pounds and upwards, besides all sorts of cloathes and other goods which he gave us, and of which we have milkt and gel∣ded him, hereticks would say, defrau∣ded him; now the matter moves upon an∣other hinge. O the brave Goose-pies that we begg'd him out of.

Nels.

My brain is in labour. Perhaps I shall bring forth another way, a way more compendiary, to shorten his life in the Bastille. He is there the most part of his time in pitchy darkness: a Spider in his salt, and there entoomb'd in her own venome, would be thought to de∣stroy him casually; and then we may ex∣alt Providence.

Pri.

Fathers, It will not be cross to our design, if we likewise inform the Chancellour that he is a Monk: The Chancellour knows a Monk should not abide out of his Monastery: This will fortifie and confirm the Chancellour in his honourable act of imprisoning him. For set aside his Priapisme, the Chancel∣our Page  38 carries the face of a conscience.

Nels.

It would not be amiss.

Pri.

Thus then. We have decreed, and the plot is modeliz'd, let us proceed to performance, and go on upon this Helix, wider and wider.

Rob.

O Father, you have dignum ca∣put cui posterit as devoveat capitolium, an∣serinâ operâ praeservandum, a reverend head, to the which posterity may worthi∣ly devote a Capitol, to be preserv'd after∣wards by Geese.

Pri.

F. Robert, you are alwayes merry. Come let us go, and hammer the iron while it is incorporated with fire.

Nels.
The Monk that is most cunning, and most queint,
Our Maxime saies, must be declar'd a Saint.
Exeunt.

Act 4. Scene 3.

Aristotle Junior, lying on the ground in a Dungeon, upon a little straw mingled with dirt.
Arist.

O Torment! The pangs of Death cannot be more grievous: and my pangs are notoriously more grievous to me than the pangs of Death, because mine are continual. The whole Fabrick of my body is so stifned and benum'd with cold, so bruis'd and sor'd with the hard∣nesse of the rocky ground, that I cannot use a limb without excessive pain, and shaking of the whole frame. They have detain'd me here in the Bastille the space of fifteen Weeks, without Bed, Cover∣ing, Cap, Wastcoate, Shirt, or other Linnen, (the French, my Executioners, rob'd me of all,) without Chair, Stoole, Table, Fire, Candle, Water, Knife, Spoone; without any succour for the ne∣cessities of nature, further than the floor of this close and dark Dungeon or Cave where I lye: and by a little peeping-hole I have discover'd a Sentinel continually standing with his Musket, to receive me, if I should appear in the least part of me. Dare these blessed-nam'd Benedictines e∣ver professe, that they are flesh and blood? the wild Indian man-eaters are not more barbarous; nor the bruite beasts of the wildernesse more savage. Can it now be denyed from the conse∣quents of this cruelty, that their lives in their Monasteries are absolutely disso∣lute, when they endeavour by such un∣hew'd and Scythian means to forestall the discovery of them. It is likely they will pull to themselves in the covering of their nakednesse other pretences, that as Ti∣berius the Emperor abused the vestals, they may first render me dishonourable, and then miserable: But here, two things obtain no small surplussage of confirma∣tion; two things which walk it and stalk it as open truths in England, though con∣tradiction be much obstreperous: The first, The people of this Gang, this sharp∣pointed fang, are most horribly Cruel: The second, Rome cannot stand without the prop of a Lye. I never hammered a∣ny thing against them, but Truth: a Goldsmith is a Smith, but a Gold-smith. I wonder not now, that they are so de∣bauched in their Monasteries, and that their old Monks talke of the evils they committed in their youths, with such high merriment and complacence: for cruel∣ty supposeth many great sins, hath ma∣ny foul enormities that forerun it. They now act upon the very Life-blood of me. Nothing more puts me upon the rack, than that I suffer all this from the imme∣diate hand of a walking Pedlars Pack, a Periwig'd people; a Nation of Anticks; a people terrible to none but to one ano∣ther, Page  39 as fearing amongst themselves Mor∣bum Gallicum, the French Pox; exube∣rant in their outward and croutching Spaniel Complements, but wretchedly destitute of all truly-gentile and solid ci∣vility; A barbarous extract of Gauls, Huns, Goths, Vandals, Longobards; Men that have alwayes their Master the Devil in their mouths; quick to strike and kill, but slow to do it nobly. Let them go as they are, the Indian Birds or Butterflies of men. May the noble Casti∣lian, and brave Englishman in a fit time revenge my wrongs upon them. Rejectus à Servis puerulus, in Matris redit & ru∣it amplexus: The Child roughly treated by the Servants whom he fondly loved, returns and runs into the imbraces of his dear Mother. O dear England! I have been so long watching and waking, that neither my fancy nor eyes perform faith∣full service to my understanding. It seems to me, that I see strange things, Pig∣mies, Giants, strange Birds, Beasts, Fishes, Serpents, Monsters. All extra∣ordinary stories that I have read or heard of, shew themselves to me, besides por∣tents and prodigies. I hear whatsoever my fancy delivers to be said. I dream that I sleep, sometimes bedded in Snow, sometimes in the Waters, in the Field sometimes, where I am pelted with hail. They will not allow me pen, inke, pa∣per, or light: yet I have made and re∣corded in my memory a Latin Epistle, which I will commend to paper, and perhaps devote to the Presse, if ever good Heaven indulge freedom to me. In this Epistle there is a Latin Hymn: My fancy sings it oftentimes to me. I wish for sym∣metry-sake, and because it contains my sad story, that some propitious and un∣seen mouth might sing it, reprive and act the part of my fancy, whilest I intend a lit∣tle to slumbering.

SONG.
In stramineo & pulvereo Cumulo
Hîc jaceo sine tegmine aut Tumulo:
Oblatus Morti, somno vix aut nè vix devotus,
Relatus Morti, Mortuique instar firmè totus.
Supulchrum pulchrum verè putans,
Et nec id moribus refutans.
Re, ore, non sanè planè idem,
More, Amore qui fui pridèm.
Christo, non verò Satanae dicandus,
Hùc trador, spero, sordibus purgandus.
Ʋnà in occasum Vergens, oriénsque;
Nascens, & simul denascens, moriénsque.
Ʋt aegrotus, frigens, dolens:
Ʋt Cadaver, rigens, olens.
Vi ablatus, & vi delatus:
Vi Mortis Portis alligatus.
Vagari liberum non est Menti,
Nè Corpus desit revertenti.
Page  40 Pulso Scabello, fluens, fruens
Augustis Throni Bonis, Donis.
Non flens ipse, video in Scalâ
Mentes deflintes mea Mala.
Me flente, confluunt gaudentes,
Descendentes & ascendentes.
Sublatus in Coelum, eò liber eo,
Liber in eo cum Deo-versor meo.
Ignobilis per Somnia, pariénsque deformia:
Immobilis ad omnia, patiénsque enormia.
Et nùnc velut elatus, vermibúsque ritè datus,
Cum Vivendi peritis Primitivis Eremitis.
Enter a Key keeper.
Key-k.

Monsieur Englishman, you are free from the Dungeon, and have the li∣berty of the Common Prison.

Arist.

I most humbly thank you, Mon∣sieur: you are a good Angel. Pray be a little charitable, and help me to rise: O, gently, gently: for charity sake, gent∣ly. O my poor leggs, they refuse to sup∣port my body. I can scarce enforce my arms to the least duty. There is a Con∣juration of Aches through my whole body.

He comes upon the Stage, holding by the wall, and sits. Exit Key-keeper.
Enter Don Lewis, an Italian.
Lewis,

Signior Englishman, I am glad you are dismis'd and rescued from your Dungeon. Prisoners love here, as being in câdem navi, in the same ship. I am a stranger as you are, a noble Italian; and therefore, more particularly sympa∣thiz'd with you. I am commonly call'd Don Lewis.

Arist.

Noble Sir: I am affectionate∣ly yours. You will favour me to descend beneath your self, and acquaint me why you are detain'd here.

Lewis.

Precisely and nakedly, for the speaking of naked Truth: There is an Italian Bishop here in Paris, a man of sublime power, but of a leaden heart: He privately professes against the Im∣mortality of the soul; and uses, against all the Sallies of Nature, a Boy every night, (such is the vile extravagancy of our Nation.) This I spake into the open aire: And though the Truth of it is as well and throughly known to me, as that I walke and talke, yea, although they thought so worthily of me here, as to send me their Embassadour to Naples, yet they imprison'd me. The grand af∣fair of your Countrey is setled en su ser y puesto, (I doubt not but you understand Spanish;) or you had been sent to the Inquisition, and your body had made a Bone-fire there: I am a Roman born, and know the manner of it; your A∣shes should have been thrown into the River Tiber, to feed the Water-snakes. But your enemies here, were big with hopes, that the Dungeon would have murder'd you. Your own Countrey Monks were your Hangmen; we know all here.

Arist.

I consider'd them as being in the condition of Angels, that Sun-beam∣like attend to the world, as helpers of others towards Heaven, and in them∣selves Page  41 are separate from it, and united with Heaven as the beams with the Sun. I fancied, that as Stars which have the least Circuit, are nearest the Pole; so men who are least perplexed with businesse, are nearest to Heaven, because we can∣not remove a thing from earth, but we must exalt it nearer to Heaven.

Lewis.

You have been much entang∣led in the love of them: but as businesses commonly move now, it is a putrified course of life in many parts, and respects. A corrupted Monk is like the reflexion of the great Angel-Image from a Steeple∣top in Millan, which at one stroke, limb'd it self on the Clouds in the Air, of themselves prepar'd for such an im∣pression, and only amazed and amuzed the vulgar heads, who vainly took the vain reflexion of an Image on the Clouds, for a most heavenly Saint or Angel. But when the Monks come down out of the Clouds, we know them better, because they are near to us: we never find a∣broad, men so passionate, so profane: besides that they are commonly drunken Beasts, and lazy lousie belly-gods; these their mysteries I inwardly know: in ma∣ny Monasteries they study Magical and Demoniacal Arts; they learn the Art of compounding Philters, and thereby draw Nobles to love them above their own children; they compose poisons of all sorts; they destroyed Henry the se∣venth, Emperour, with a subtle and most sacrilegious poison in a Church, and your King John in a Monastery; the Monk is the Jesuit's great Grandfather; the Monks coin false money; they falsi∣fie stones of middle rank into Pearls, and Jewels; by the transmutation of Met∣tals, they raise them into a kind of coun∣terfeit silver.

Arist.

This I knew done by Father Broughton, an English Monk, at Lamb∣spring in Germany, amongst the Woods there, who, had he not been a Monk, had ended his life at Brussels on the Gal∣lows for the like forgery.

Lewis.

They leave the Frier many akers behind them, that was the casual author of Gunpowder: they make pow∣ders, the smell of which procures lust, and sets body and soul on fire: they mix the purest paint for women: their abun∣dance of idle time incites them as to mon∣strous evils, so to marvellous curiosities. Trithemius, a famous Abbot, shewed Maximilian the Emperour his wife, even long after her death, and Verrucam in collo ejus, the very Wart in her neck, by which the Emperour particularly knew her. I could recount a hundred of these: There was a kind of mortal punishment amongst the old Jews, badg'd with the title of Combustio anima, the burning of the soul, wherein they powred scalding Lead into the mouth of the condemned person, by the which his inwards were consumed, the shape and outward bark of his body, remaining still with due proportion. The body of the Monk is extant still, his soul is burnt forth: Tri∣themius satisfied royal curiosity, and I have complied with yours. I am a child of Rome both in birth and belief; but abuses are now grown into a wilde Forrest, and men are become as the wilde Beasts. It hath oftentimes pleaded a∣gainst me in my heart, Are there no true worshippers in all the world, but the three wickedest Nations of all the world? Time will open it self, that I may hap∣pily have place to give you the Story of Rome according to my knowledge, and the Chronicle of my own memory, from Urban the eighth, and the childehood of his Popedome, to Parturiunt montes, Page  42 nascetur ridiculus mus; the Mountains bring forth, and the ridiculous Mouse is born. I will not now disease you fur∣ther; your indisposition admonishes me.

Exit Lewis.

Arist.

Your servant, noble Don. The Novilships in the Monasteries, are but idle, inauspicacious, impertinent, and tri∣fling merriments, put in comparison with what I have suffered; and yet they would have delivered me up for fuel to the most implacable revenge of the Inqui∣sition. Graft a Rose-tree, then convey a grain of Musk into a cleft in the stock, and all the Roses that come of the stock, will carry Musk about them. I hope that all my after-actions will be steept in this affliction. I must withdraw.

Exit.

Act. 4. Scen. 4.

Enter Sir John Wit-little, Madam Hypocrisie, Pretty, Lucifuga.
Hyp.

Sir John, You gave me amongst your commands, to provide for your use a small quantity of Love-powder; and here I present it to you in this little bag of silk.

Wit-l.

Madam, You oblige me be∣yond world without end, but I must re∣taliate, and return you satisfaction. Ma∣dam, pray what cost it?

Hyp.

It will be abundant satisfaction if you shall please to accept it, and that it will cost you if you have it.

Wit-l.

Dear Madam, I would I were wiser and more knowing, that I might thank you more learnedly; but I will give your Boy something, and something to your Maid. And how must I use this Love-powder, Madam?

Hyp.

Sir, You must apply the Bag a few minutes, to the Nose of the person whom you desire to fire with the love of you.

Wit-l.

Very good: this I shall dexte∣rously do.

Lucifug.

That Powder hath no such power attending upon it; my Mistresse trifles with him: but I have a perfume here, sufficiently operative, according∣ly as it is presented. Noble Sir, Pray license a poor servant from the Blacks, to present a poor something to you as an Emblem, Flag, Ensign, Obelisk, Pyramid, Trophy, of his most humble service; and vaslalage. You were pleas'd even now to give me gold; and I desire to be your grateful servant, and return your gold presently in a Present.

Wit-l.

O brave black Boy! What hast thou there that thou would'st sacrifice to me?

Lucifug.

Only a pair of Gloves, Sir.

Wit-l.

A fair pair indeed.

Lucifug.

Their greatest fairnesse is, that they were presented with a grateful heart.

Wit-l.

Where were these Gloves made, Boy?

Lucifug.

In Italy, Sir John, and there perfum'd in a Monastery.

Wit-l.

I know not what a Monastery is, but I believe 'tis a sweet place, for the Gloves are wondrous sweet.

Lucifug.

The more you acquaint them with your Nose, and smell of them, Sir John, if my Augury deceive me not, the sweeter you will find them.

Wit-l.

Boy, I would fain put my powder upon experience, before I prove it on my Mistresse.

Lucifug.

You may, Sir, with expe∣dition. Which of these, my Mistresse of her Maid, do you desire should love you?

Wit-l.

I know not which, they are both comely. I could love them both: let them both love me.

Lucifug.

Why then it shall be so.

Page  34
Wit-l.

But how shall I apply the Bag to their Noses?

Lucifug.

O Sir, I can lay them both to sleep in a moment.

Wit-l.

That will be fine indeed. But how, prythee?

Lucifug.

By murmuring a certain ma∣gical word in their ears. I shall effect all this presently. Madam, The fat Val∣lyes are low and humble: I humbly desire leave to deliver an humble word to you in your ear.

Vaing.

Do so, Boy.

Lucifug.

And another to you, Mi∣stresse Pretty, preambled with a loving kisse.

Pret.

Contented, so that you leave behind you, none of your Blackamore∣ship upon my lips.

Lucifug.

Fear not; I'le not part from any of it.

Vaing.

Sleep takes me by storm.

She sits, and sleeps. Pretty yawns.

Pret.

That's my first and last Peal to sleep.

She fits, and sleeps.

Lucifug.

Now Sir John, use your silken Bag.

Wit-l.

Thou art a rare black Boy. My House here in London shall be prefac'd with the Sign of the black Boy, for thy sake.

Lucifug.

I shall be rarer presently, if I fail not in my Prognosticks. Sir John, with your other hand ward the sent from your own Nose, by applying your Gloves to it.

Wit-l.

Thy counsel's seasonable. I am tickled with the thought, how vehe∣mently these two fair-ones, this pair of Beauties will love me.

Lucifug.

Now remove your siege to the other. Sir John, they will love you most amorously; love you above them∣selves; above whatsoever is most dear to them, or the world cals precious Enough; now conceal your Bag.

They both start, one after the other, as out of a dream, and wake.

On with your Gloves Sir John, and avert the smell of the Powder.

Vaing.

Sir John, you are natures Ma∣sterpiece, the world's chief Jewel, and earth's prime Perfection; the Sun it self is not more radiant.

Wit-l.

Egregious Powder; pure Italy.

Prett.

Sir John, This Lady is my Mi∣stresse indeed; but you are the grand Duke and Master of my affections.

Wit'l.

Poor Heart. I have powder'd you both.

Vaing.

Sir John, you are like the Herb called the Tartar-Lamb, that with secret pullings attracts the juyce and vir∣tue of, and seems, like our Lamb in the fields, to put a mouth to, and open∣ly feed upon the Plants and Herbs on eve∣ry side of it. You have attracted both our loves to your self, and we fade and wither, as being so near you without en∣joyment.

Prett.

A certain learned Physitian was of the mind, that the world would thrive better, if none but young, strong, and healthful persons should be parents, and procreate children. Sir John and I are healthful, strong, and young.

Wit-l.

Distressed Girl.

Vaing.

I hope and fear, and after the first lineaments of my fear, wipe all a∣way and hope again, and in the strength and puissance of this last hope, I will go to him couragiously. Pray Sir John, salute me.

Wit-l.

Most willingly, sweet Lady.

Prett.

His language is direct, and hath no enormous obliquity in it; it is of the finest silk, the softest feather. I presume he will answer me with like ci∣vility. Page  44 Sir John, I am my Mistresses Ape, and would fain imitate her: pray give me your blessing, I mean the blessing of your warm lips.

Wit-l.

Sweet Maid, I blesse thee. O Paragons, thou of Women, she of Maids! In my Fancy, I am now kingdom'd, crown'd, scepter'd, thron'd, and foot∣stool'd.

He starts.

What means this? My Heart, and Head are both dart-wounded toge∣ther.

Vaing.

My love of Sr John, is not an ear∣thy passion, it is rather a celestial flame kindled at the Planet Venus. Prett. Every thing grows vile when it is joyned with a thing beneath it self, as silver combined with lead: but a thing is dignified and exalted, when united with a better thing, as lead commixed with silver. I should receive worth, lustre, and splendour, if joyned with Sir John Wit-little; and I should be the Lady Wit-little.

Wit-l.

Dregs of women-kind, I ab∣hor you both: I abominate all your sex: the Toad is not so loathsome to me. Here is my Joy: most beautious Boy, my on∣ly Joy, I love thee; love thee with weight, and without measure.

Vaing.

Now you are fast, Ha ha he. Laugh Pretty, Ha ha he.

Prett.

Ha ha he. My Mistresse laughs so heartily, that I am her Eccho.

Vaing.

Had we brought him true love-powder, he would have played false with his Mistresse, whom we destin and shall quickly make over to a Nunnery. Now he feels the virtue of Italian Gloves.

Wit-l.

Who stuck those Lillies in thy face? What Artist so knowingly mingled the Lillies and Roses there? O my white Boy, my Angelical Boy, I have a trian∣gular glasse in my Fancy, and mine eyes act after it, and behold all rich colours in thy face. Thy face is like, and not like the Rainbow; in thy face, there is both Bow and Arrow; from thy face I am shot; I am on fire with such a con∣flagration of love towards thee, that I can scarcely contain my self from falling down before thee and adoring thee.

Lucifug.

If you love me, follow me.

Wit-l.

He must follow thee who can∣not live without thee, or love any but thee?

Exeunt those two.

Vaing.

Now the work is upon the wheel, and runs on apace, It grows high, a short time will ripen it.

She whispers to Pretty.

Exit Pretty.

Enter Lord Liberal and Mrs Dorothy.
L. Lib.

Sir John Wit-little, where is he? Where is Sir John, Madam?

Vaing.

He was here, my Lord, and here he walk'd and talk'd, and all-bepas∣sion'd himself in the uproar of his own thoughts, as pretending that your Noble Kinswoman did not look favourably up∣on him: on a sudden, he catcht himself away, without any civil adieu, vowing at the threshold, that he would immedi∣ately travel beyond the bounds of this Island, and never turn his foot again to∣wards this House, or Countrey.

L. Lib.

Upon my Honour, I am sor∣ry. This is your fault, Nice.

Dor.

My Lord, It is my happinesse that I am deliver'd from a Fool.

L Lib.

But Nice, That Fool came of wise parents, and is a large-landed Fool; he is worth a thousand-wise-men of or∣dinary condition.

Dor.

True worth, my Lord, is not mea∣sur'd by the false rule of Riches.

L. Lib.

Cozen, Cozen, Where there are riches without measure, education will fashion a child begotten by a Fool, into a person of true worth.

Dor.

The short and the long is, If I Page  45 should have lov'd him in short for your sake, for my own sake I could not have lov'd him long.

Enter Pretty, smiling.
Vaing.

Why smile you, Maid?

Prett.

There is a Changeling at the door, who begs with a basket hook'd on his arm: He talks and behaves himself so strangely, that he would raise a spirit of laughter in a stone.

Dor.

My Lord, pray let me see him. A little Recreation unbends, and eases me.

L. Lib.

Let him be call'd hither.

Vaing.

Maid, call him.

Exit Pretty.

Madam Dorothy.

This Changeling is your Ghostly Father: from a Jesuite he is new-alchymiz'd into a Benedictine: such a Gradation being lawfull, because the Benedictine is the more perfect. And your experience will plain it to you, that he is the far more perfect, I dare say to my self, Knave. He brings the Basket, therein to carry away part of your por∣tion.

L. Lib.

A Changeling cannot endan∣ger my Cozen within the circle of my fears.

Enter Lucifer like a Changeling, and Pretty.
Lucifer.

O rich Cozens, rich Cozens, how do ye all here? how do you? Rich Cozens, give something to your poor Cozen; some bread and cheese, or eggs, or pie, or bacon, or what ye please, rich Cozen. Ha, ha, he. O, that's my Lord-Cozen: what an unmannerly fool am I? I should stand a great away off, I should not come near my Lord Cozen. Good day to you, Lord Cozen. My Lord Co∣zen is a jolly fine old man: Ha, ha, he.

L. Lib.

Friend, come neer, what hast thou in thy basket?

Lucifer.

My basket is therefore shut, because you should not see what I have there, Lord Cozen: Ha, ha, he. But in earnest Lord Cozen, I have nothing there yet, I thank you.

L. Lib.

Dost thou thank me, that thou hast nothing there?

Lucif.

I, Lord Cozen, I thank you for nothing, Ha, ha, he.

L. Lib.

You shall thank me for some∣thing, anon.

Lucif.

So I will when I have it, Lord Cozen, Ha, ha, he.

L. Lib.

Nice, I commit the storing of his basket to you: let it be well fill'd.

Dor.

I undertake it as a work of Cha∣rity.

Lucif.

Thank you heartily, pretty Cozen: you are a very pretty Cozen: and I love a pretty Cozen heartily: Ha, ha, he. And Cozens all, if you be good Cozens, help me to a Wife amongst you. Lord Cozen, I want a Wife: Ha, ha, he.

L. Lib.

Thou knowst not how to use a Wife.

Lucif.

To use a Wife is a natural work, Lord Cozen: and a Natural knows it best. Ha, ha, he.

L. Lib.

He sayes true. But why does he pull up his right leg hastily in that man∣ner?

Vain-gl.

My Lord, it is the custom of Changelings. I should think it were, be∣cause he belongs to other Parents, and his right foot intends a nimble motion to∣wards them.

Lucif.

Pretty Cozen, Is that your Mother?

Dor.

No: She is a Gentleman's Wife in the City here.

Lucif.

Gentleman's Wife, and my lo∣ving Cozen, how do you? Ha, ha, he.

Vaing.

Well I thank you, fool.

Page  46
Lucif.

Cozen, Cozen; have you made a fool of me, that you call me so? Ha, ha, he.

Vaing.

No, no: I am thy Friend. I shall help to the filling of thy Basket.

Lucif.

I thank you, Cozen Fool.

Vaing.

I perceive, we must not call him fool.

L. Lib.

No. The veriest Fools think themselves the wisest.

Lucif.

I, I, Lord Cozen; that's the reason that so many rich and great men think themselves so wise. Lord Cozen, let me ask you a simple question without offence.

L. Lib.

Speak freely.

Lucif.

I will, Lord Cozen. My sim∣ple question is: whether it be possible to make a fool of a Lord? Ha, ha, he.

L. Lib.

Why truly, a man may make a Lord of a Fool: But it is not ordinary to make a Fool of a Lord, except it be of such a Lord as was made a Lord of a Fool.

Lucif.

Right, Lord Cozen, very right. My back-part itches, Lord Cozen: some good is coming towards me.

L. Lib.

Thou art a Fool in grain, an unmannerly Fool. He comes a gooding. Nice, Take in the fool with you, and load his basket with good Provision; then send him packing. Madam, pray refresh your self a little farther before you leave us.

Vaing.

My Lord, you are noble.

Dor.

Come, Cozen.

Lucif.

I, I, pretty Cozen. Pretty Co∣zen, I will follow you close. Mrs Dorothy, a word of advertisement: the next time, I come as a Chimny-sweeper; af∣terwards as a Tinker.

Dor.

I understand you. And you shall only sweep my Chimny, mend and scour my Kettel.

Exeunt.

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.

Act. 4. Scene 6.

Enter Aristotle Junior with a long Beard and poor in Apparel.
Arist.

Delicious London, once more I Page  48 salute thee. Thy buildings are now glo∣rionsly beautifull, if my eyes may sen∣tence for thee. Here dwels Simplicity, here Justice is enthron'd. O People of England, learn your own Happinesse, your earthly Happinesse drops and distils from your own hands. Be obedient, and conform to the good and easie Laws here; and you comprize more than the Happi∣nesse of all the other Fortunate Ilands; Arabia the Happy is not so happy, and fragrant as your Countrey. Knew ye the slavish condition of France, the beg∣gery of Spain, the buggery of Italy, Spain, and France, the general wicked∣ness of all the world, ye would quietly sit down, every one at his own Door, and calmly say, Heaven be blessed that I was born in little England. Here all Persons are free, breathe freely, eat comfortably, use freely and fully their own. Where is it so besides here? Now ye are in joynt again, stand Atlas-firm, bear up your little Heaven of quiet here: or as ye are now the most happy, ye will be otherwise the most despicable and most unhappy of all Nations. The natu∣ral desire a man has of self-preservation, like adverse Wind and Tyde, lately cast me back into France, and the English Monks there, the sordid idle Monks, more than impal'd me in the Bastille, be∣cause I threatned to impound them here, as detaining from me a fair Sum of my own Monys most due to me. And to guild, to varnish, to burnish this their unhew'd, ragged, and ragged Action, they plyde my story with lies of Defence, lies of Offence, lies with heads, but not with feet, lies with feet, but not with heads; lies with neither head nor foot; lies whisper'd, and loud lies. Oye Scholars of our most renowned Uni∣versities, set bounds to your feet, and limits to your Thoughts: I was my Fa∣thers eldest Son, and Heir to a comfort∣able Estate of Houses and Lands; and I threw all behinde me, to be cheated, most religiously cheated by secular Priests, Jesuites, Monks, Friers; but amongst all these godly Cheaters, the Monk is the Grandee, the Pontifex maxi∣mus, the first and Universal Bishop. Two years he held me now fast in Prison, in a loathed Prison: and after the Business was made publick here by my private Letters, clear'd me of the Prison, but unwillingly, but conditionally that I should be confin'd there all my life: I consented in the lip: Afterwards plead∣ing that my Body was greatly disorder'd in respect of health, desir'd a few dayes wherein to physick it (I meant with a better Air;) and in that little Tract of Time wherein it was supposed I took Physick, hasted privately to Diep, a Port-Town in France, where I found sixteen English Monks attending the Passage-Boat: they prevented my Passage with them, and posted away Letters to Paris, solliciting that I should be stopt; but the Hugonots of Diep past me over the night following. In all their Houses in those transmarine parts, there are none left but boyes and old Men; hither they are all come. The greatest Crocodile was at first harbour'd in an Egge, which is Paulò majus anserino, a little bigger than a Goose-egg. And yet, the Crocodile is a Devourer of Men: and when, being horrour-struck, these cannot weep for themselves, mockingly weeps over them; grows huge, and on to the last period of life; and is different, not a little from the Goose, in shape, substance, colour, manners; though they favour one ano∣ther in the Egg. No sensual Creature spreads to so vast a bigness, from so small beginnings, as this Egg-Crocodile. In Page  49 two years I had not the benefit of a fresh Shirt. I had preserv'd some rich Goods from the ravenous Officers who took me: And John Baptista Palliot, the President of Noury in France, my fellow-prisoner, who desired and undertook to secure them for me at his own house, secur'd them there indeed, but from me, and for himself, he, being in account a person of Honour, and I indeed a wrongfully and poor imprison'd stranger. Another French Prisoner wearied me oftentimes, with desiring me that he might use my body Sodomitically. The Frenchmen say: Omnis Jesuita aut Magus aut Sodomita, Every Jesuite is a Magitian or a Sodo∣mite: This I know not; the other, ex∣perience brought home to me. Upon composed and most deliberate thoughts, I set up this resolution like a Colossus: I will yield up my life on a Gallows here, before I will set my foot again where proud Rome does Mistris it: because her Vassals are more than heathenishly cruel, more unclean than Turks and Indians. London, I joyfully kiss thy ground, which others kick and tread upon: allow me a Grave here: Thy air seems to me per∣fum'd: and I am now, as it were, born again.

Distressed Body, Rack of the Bastille,
Now ware the Monks and Jesuites that kill.
Exit.
Finis Actûs quarti.