A new play call'd The Pragmatical Jesuit new-leven'd a comedy / by Richard Carpenter.

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Title
A new play call'd The Pragmatical Jesuit new-leven'd a comedy / by Richard Carpenter.
Author
Carpenter, Richard, d. 1670?
Publication
London :: Printed for N. R. ...,
[1665?]
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http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A34526.0001.001
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"A new play call'd The Pragmatical Jesuit new-leven'd a comedy / by Richard Carpenter." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A34526.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed April 28, 2025.

Pages

Act. 5. Scene 5.
Enter F. Robert, a Woman, a Boy.
Rob.

Ye are both apt Scholars. But you, Boy, must learn to open your mouth wi∣der, when the fit's upon you.

Boy.

I open it as wide as I can, good Father.

Rob.

Take this Apple, and extend your mouth to the wideness of the Apple: 'Tis of a fit bigness. And you, Woman, when you act the possest person, do not stare enough: your eyes must always be rounded into a larger Circle, but then especially. And if any be immodest to∣wards you, you must not take notice of it, at such a time, but rather shew wil∣lingness, because the Devil, under whose power you are then conceiv'd to groan and lie grave'd, is delighted with wan∣tonness.

Wo.

Reverend Father, you have taught me obedience, and I shall practise it.

Rob.

Boy, I am very much pleas'd with your vomiting of nails, crooked pins, nee∣dles, hair, pibble stones, and the like:

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Your conveyance is nimble. Both of you must be carefull, that ye do not go aside into any strangeness of Action, except a Priest, or at least some devout Person of our Religion offer himself. The Devil is not rous'd up with the presence of Here∣ticks. In the company of such, and none but such, you should demean your selves quietly and cheerfully.

Enter Lucifer and Aristotle Junior.
Lucif.

I understand your condition. You are an Heretick: you shall know better within a Cubit of Time. This is my dwelling; and that my loving Brother. Father Robert, this Gentleman is an He∣retick, and a Scholar, but a kind of Seeker.

Rob.

Woman, Boy, the Stranger is an Heretick: while we are here, you know your parts.

Arist.

This is Father Robert: but I thank the Bastille (against my will) he knows me not. What strange and unrea∣sonable carriage have this Woman and Boy.

Lucif.

Alas, miserable and unhappy Creatures, they are possest.

Arist.

How possest?

Rob.

Possest with Devils.

Lucif.

Sir, you seem in the shell, in the face or fore-head, to be well affected towards us, or at least less ill-affected, and less indispos'd to Goodness. I confess to you, as to a Friend, prompted by the Bird of good Omen within me, that I and my Brother there, have been eatechiz'd at Rome, and that we are Benedictine Priests. Sir, our Order is the most ancient, and most holy of all others: the Devil is troubled that we are station'd so neer him: If you were here alone, the Devil would lie down, leave barking, and be qui∣et as a Lamb, because you are yet abstract∣ed from the lines of Communication with us.

Arist.

I am as much Priest as they; for Priesthood cannot be lost, but they are ignorant of it, because they have lost my face out of their remembrance. In good time, Sir. But under favour, I have read in your Authors, that the occasion other Orders rose, was, because the Monks were defective in that part, which the new ri∣sing Order most profest: as that the Do∣minicans rose, because the Monks were Kitchin-bound, and their mouths were stop'd, they became dumb and muzzl'd in publick; good men, they dealt out their time in eating, hunting both Hare and Fox, and purging their reins according to lease: The Franciscans came, because the Monks were proud; and the Bernar∣dines for the same reason, because the Monks were fat and stately: the Jesuites came shoving in at last, because the Monks had long desisted from the teach∣ing of Children, and thereby ingaging rich Parents, and from the recovering of Nations, and thereby obliging the most rich Parent of all at Rome: and so in others. Whom did, or do the Jesuites and they love, but in order to their own ends, and for gain-sake? Who have been more scan∣dalous in all the wandrings of wickedness, than the Monks with their poatch'd Eyes in their Meditations? The worst of Gene∣va-Jesuites might better and more justly be canoniz'd after the Age is pass'd wher∣in he liv'd, than the best of Monks in these parts. And I have read in a learned Monk, that as Rivers after long running run slen∣der and muddy, so the best things gather dust, and contract corruption in length of Time. Your Pontifices maximi, grand Fathers at Rome, have commonly most excellent Resolutions and Actions at their first entrance into their Irish-wooden Chair; but they soon Reed-like hold down their Heads: The Italians jest it

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notably, though profanely. If you censure me, that I whip the Monks too hard, blame me, scourge me; but then, you must blame and scourge with me holy Writers in all Ages, the learned Angel of Hippo, divine Salvianus, our English Gildas, and a thousand worthy Rabbies more. Had they seen our dayes:—

Lucif.

They are Scandals you stum∣ble at.

Rob.

You must abjure those, if you enter our list.

Lucif.

Father Robert, let us leave him: that the Miracle of the Woman and Boy may further convince him.

Rob.

Sir, you may repose your self, if you please, a while here. A little rem∣nant of business in the house, summons us. Our stay shall be short.

Arist.

I shall patiently wait your lei∣sure. How now? Exeunt Luc. and Rob. A clear case, The Devil dreads not me. A sudden change indeed: This Miracle is but of the lower Classis. Woman and Boy, away with this Hocus and Pocus his Kinsman, let them praestò be gone, this thred bare kind of Juggling; (I have been us'd to this Pass and Repass-Part of Bar∣tholmew Fair:) Let me tell you in a single Word, if you do not both confess to me your double-dealing, I'le instantly fetch a Constable, and ye shall be soundly whipt in Bridewell till ye do confess, and per∣haps Justice will not stop or pause there. I'le do't immediatly.

Wo.

O good Sir, come back. I am a poor Widdow, and have nothing where∣with to keep life and soul together.

Boy.

And I am a very poor Boy. Sir, I was a Beggar-Boy, and begg'd from door to door.

Arist.

I am satisfied. Not a word of what has hapned, as you love your own safeties.

Exit. Arist.

Wo.

Boy, we must not say a word of this to the Fathers: if we do, we shall be turn'd forth a begging.

Enter Lucifer and Father Robert.
Lucif.

Is the Gentleman gone?

Wo.

Yes, reverend Father: but thun∣der-struck with the Miracle: He will, he saies, wait upon you an other time.

Lucif.

So, so: come, supper attends us.

Exeunt.

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