THe good man, and my blessed Father, now a Benedictine, has been twice more with me, first Chim∣ney-sweeper, then Tinker-like; he has perform'd his part to the last and least point of Action; and all the money is gone with him, by a most cleanly con∣veyance. In my thinking, since he went Benedictine, he has publickly more of of Saint in his face, and reaches farther and is more active privately. This is the Now of Time, wherein he promis'd to come, and divert our houshold here, that they being held by the eyes, and amused in their Fancies, I might make my escape, and steer towards a Nunnery.
There he comes. Blessed Man, he keeps close to his Time.
A walk to the Royal Exchange and home again, will beget me a good ap∣petite to my supper. Now Friend, what's your business here?
My very good Lord, no great business: But, if it please you, my Lord: that is: if it be not offensive to your Lord∣ship: that is: if your good Lordship thinks it convenient: that is: if your Ho∣nour deem honourably of it: that is.
Speak, friend, leave shaking of thy head, and speak.
Away with that That is, do not retard your business.
I would make your Honours Servants a little Pastime, my Lord: I, and my bonny Beast here. An old Ape has an old eye, my Lord.
Well, well, if this be all, we shall agree. The Times are now quiet a∣gain, I thank Heaven: and my House is a house of singular freedom, and of Enter∣tainment as free as Noble. But what can you and your Ape do?
Do? Rather, what can we not do, my Lord? We can Dance, Ca∣per, Curvet, shew Tricks of all sorts, fashions, conditions; drink whole Boles, play at Cards, Dice, Tables; fight at back-Sword, single-Rapier, at Sword and Dag∣ger, quarter-Staff; (my Ape's an expert Fencer, my Lord;) run a Tilt; sing Prick't-Song; shew you a Maid (and that's a wonder, my Lord,) and shew you a Maid that goes for a Maid, and is not a Maid, (and my Lord, that's no wonder at all:) If your Lordship has a Thief or a Drunkard amongst your Ser∣vants, my Ape will bring him forth. An old Ape has an old eye, my Lord.
A nimble-pated Fellow. Go in, Friend: Tell my Servants I gave you leave to enter my house. I intended a walk: but if I hear my Servants are pleas'd with your Pastime, I'le come and be your Spe∣ctator my self.
My Lord, your more than thrice humble servants, I and my Ape. An old Ape has an old eye, my Lord.
Go thy way: thou dost out∣wit the Ape, I warrant thee. O my poor Nice, if she were reduc'd, I should be mertier, more debonnaire, and more delighted with such sights than I am. Men have learned the way of changing bitter Almond-trees into sweet ones: which is: they pierce them near to the root, and let forth the bitter juyce: so these bit∣ter-hearted Romanists should let their perverse and sower inclinations forth, at the root of their Hearts; and become of bitter, better. The Priests, whose actions are as dirty as their thoughts are foul, have wrought this irrecoverable mischief in my house. The Physitians, that they may draw the vapours from the head of the Patient, apply Pigeons to the soles of his feet: If these seven-hill'd Saints would walk innocently, and with Pige∣ons at their feet; they would not be troubled with such gross and idle fumes in their Brains as they are. They do not con∣sider, that the Life of man is a very Bub∣ble: A Bubble puts on the form of an Hemisphere: And shadowing half the Page 51 world, as being an Hemisphere; it ac∣cordingly consists of two Elements; It is Air within, which is invisible for its Rarity; and without, a thinne-shap'd Skinne of Water: and there is all the Bubble. The Air deciphers our soul; and the watery skin, our body: the skin presently breaks: the Aire as presently breaks loose; and there is a present end of the Bubble.
There's my invitation. I would not let desire loose to range through the world, like a wilde-Ass in the Arabian Desert; but honest recreations are the Didacticks of humane providence.
The servants are all met to view the Sport which the Ape and his Master make; and I must be their Ape, imitate them, and adde to the number.
This idle Page obstructs my way.
Mrs. Dorothy, with your faire leave, you know that all the Servants are charg'd to acquaint my Lord, if you stir out of the house, as now you have, or be∣yond the Garden.
Pretty Boy hold thy peace, thou wert alwayes my friend, there's a piece for thee. Delay the search after me, till I have pass'd this street and the next.
Madam, I shall not be wanting to your design.
She's gone. I must keep silence now, or go too.
Page, where are you?
Here, my Lord.
Call my Nice down: tell her, here's very pretty sport.
I go, my Lord, I move as quick as lightning. I have read in an English Author of a melancholy-she that thought she could break to pieces, the whole world with the motion of one short fin∣ger; and crush it into a Miscellany with the clintching of her little hand. Mrs. Do∣rothy thinks now, that she has the great world in her little maiden hands, to dis∣pose of as she list. Liberty is sweet, espe∣cially after a long and tedious time of re∣straint. The Bird out of the Cage, is like the Bird that saw the Sea, turn'd and made a long flight the clean contrary way: she wings it in the Air, at length, weary, pearches upon a Bough, and sings for joy, she is not bounded.
Page, why Page, Page I say.
Where's my Nice? why comes she not?
She is not in her Chamber, my Lord. I am going to the Garden: she's there, my Lord, I think.
Make hast, Page.
All the hast I make, shall not overtake Mrs. Dorothy. And hast thou given me a twenty shilling piece, sweet Virgin? I'le keep it for thy sake: and it shall conserve the Idea of thee in my thoughts. She must be now out of reach, or in some nearness to it.
Let him call again, 'twill open his pipes.
Page you Rogue.
I will not answer to the name of Rogue: let him call once more.
Page, my Nice.
My Lord, I cannot see her in the Garden. The Privy door is shut. But I shut it.
How? is she not in her Cham∣ber? nor to be seen in the Garden? She never staid so long in the little House there, Servants, search all the house. Go page, kick forth that rascal-fellow with the Ape O my Nice, my Nice. A noise within of searching.
Servants, search every corner, every Ratand Mouse-hole.
Good Mr. Page, kick not so hard.
Not just so hard, but harder if I can. Out, you ditch and dunghill rascal; foh; I have kick'd him till he stinks a∣gain.
Let me give him one kick. He is a Rogue by Act of Parliament: foh: He or his Ape stinks, or both.
Good my Lord, spare me. Why then did your Lordship admit a Rogue into your house.
Take another kick for that, you profes't Rogue.
I must bid you farewell with a parting kick.
From within, She is not in this Cham∣ber. Here she is not. I cannot find her this way.
Poyse her Trunks, and answer presently what weight they bear.
That's done already, my Lord: there's nothing in them.
I am undone: my Nice is lost, she is lost. Had she the invisible Ring? or did she send her money away by night through the Air, as Witches ride? I'le search all the house my self, and add the evidence of my own senses. O this cursed Ape-Carrier; he has embroil'd us all; he was at least the occasion of her escape, if she be gone.
Act 5. Scene 2.
Mrs. Dorothy, I speak your wel∣come to this house, I dare say, with a matchless affection. Here you may dilate your heart. Such dangers as you fear, can∣not reach hither. And you will find no ri∣gid Uncle here.
Madam, I equally rejoyce in my own liberty and your love. But whereas I had so much of the Schollar given to me in my breeding, that I understand above the plain of learning, and therefore have long ago done with legitimating heresie, or crutching it up, or skinning it over with hypocrisie; whereas I cannot con∣verse with Blackamore-soul'd Atheists, or with Dwarf-devotion'd Hypocrites: cannot attend to Pulpit-Cymbalists, (let them stand for me in a perpetual Pancra∣sie, in the Solstice of their Honour;) nor to the Tub-Prophets, living under the Meridian of bitter-sweet, under the Equi∣noctial of good and evil; nor disquiet the Crasis of my Soul with the new-fangled Presbyter and his painted Pageantry, and manifold Anticks: Whereas I cannot em∣balm him, nor pitty and condole with his surviving Amorosos and Fantasticks: it rests in the Repository, that I give life to my zealous Determinations, and repair to a Nunnery, to the which the beauty of that state lures me.
Mrs. Dorothy, The Angels sit on your lips, and speak from your mouth, or the Nightingale sings there. Bring your thoughts forth, while they are warm. The image of a Prince is then impressed upon the Gold, when it is melting soft. I Page 53 see, that you are excellently skill'd in the sacred Opticks; and have a seeing soul, that hever knows night. A Looking-Glass set against the Sun, not onely receives the Beams of the Sun, but also the Image of it.
Madam, the Ostrich leaves her Eggs on the Libyan-shore, to be hatch't by the Sun, but I must concurre to my own happinesse. Besides, In the Nunne∣ry I shall be wholly disenchanted from these feares, and from communication with those heady people, who precipitate themselves into more changes than the Beast and Herb-Chameleons in the Natu∣ralist, or Proteus in the Fiction; yea, become as the soul of man in the opinion of some great Pretenders to learning; which is, say they, round and globous in the head, long in the arms, broad in the brest; and as the light is indeed, round in the Sun, in the fire Pyramidal. Now they have no reason to object change against me, because they have so often changed from themselves.
Mistris, There are in view as ma∣ny subjects of change, as there are crea∣tures under the Moon: Because earthly and inferior bodies are by the Laws of nature, subjected to the bodies that are superiour and heavenly: which being in continual Motion and Revolution, and continually changing in their Positions and Aspects; and moreover, darting as they move with and in their spheres, new influences upon the Sublunaries, make new impresses upon them accordingly. But your change was effected from above the Moon, and was Heavenly in the high∣est degree.
Madam, I perceive that our bree∣ding hath incircled us in a like proporti∣on of knowledg. The soul it self is chan∣ged from without by the presentation of external and occasional Objects; and from within by the Passions, and is driven every way by them, as the Waves by the Winds; indeed, primordially and prin∣cipally by love, the Amazon-Queen of the Passions; afterwards by her Bride∣maids, Desire and Hope; yea, by Anger Love's-Champion. And then the chan∣ges are good or evill, as the objects are evil or good, concerning which these Passions are excited; and as the carriage of the Passions in their tendencies, is or∣dinate, (managed by a prudent and pi∣ous Ordination) or disordinate: The Sea breaking its bounds, is boundless in mischief. To wade nearer our affair: The best change of the soul, answerable to man as a reasonable creature, and within the Dominions of nature; is, when the moral vertues in it, are directed and gui∣ded by Prudence, and every Action tu∣tour'd by some vertue, because the Pas∣sions are obedient to reason. Nature is higher perfected by degrees: but of that I will speak in the Nunnery.
You give plentifull testimony, that you understand the businesse before you, and that you are well rooted and grounded in it.
O my most sugar and hony∣child, my spirit leaps in my body like the Lambs in a good Pasture, to find thee here. Thy Gold is all safe: The entire summe, my pretty Duckling, amounts to five thou∣sand pounds. But I have a request to thee, Fair one; a most humble request, imcomperable beauty. (It is a Rule we have, and we act by it, good words put us to no charge: hence we get all we can, but we part from nothing.) What saist thou, fairest of Maids, Saint upon earth, canst thou grant me a reasonable request?
Reverend Father, I shall grant it, if it fall within my Verge: I am ready to give it passage by my ears to my willing soul.
Why this it is then, devout Mrs. Dorothy, (that name most propor∣tions your condition, (you go now to un∣dergo a poor life; and it is essentiall to your future state, that you vow poverty: The Nuns seldome receive with a Novice above five hundred Pounds, (it is a great summe for them) you have five thousand: Divine Mrs. Dorothy, give us the rest: and we will found a new Monastery; you shall be set up before the Gate as the Foundresse of it, I mean your Image; and the Monks there shall continually pray for zealous Mrs. Dorothy, now, hereafter, and to the worlds end.
Reverend Father, your Request is, as you languag'd it, reasonable: it is granted.
O heavenly creature, I adore thy Devotion. O that we were all, or the best of us, so devout as thou art. Thou mak'st the tears go ambling down my ctheeks: tears of Comfort. I am com∣forted, that thou hast one foot in Hea∣ven already. I am Mathematically cer∣tain, as the Schools speak, that the to∣ther will follow; I am more than moral∣ly certain, and almost certain by physical certitude; and I cannot but leap for joy, for joy that the tother foot will certainly follow. To Heaven, to Heaven, 'tis even so, a Maid to Heaven dos easily go, for joy what I say I scarcely know. I forget. Mistris of my heart, give way to my ex∣pression, I have given order to Father Robert to go to your Uncle in the disguise of a Seaman; and to say that he saw you take Shipping at Gravesend, and Saile under the Conduct of a good Wind for France: Otherwise, Sweetheart, par∣don my boldnesse, he will lay waite for you at the Port-Towns: when he shall believe, and is satisfied, that you are gone, and the search is blown over, you shall away indeed with safety.
This invention is steep'd in Pru∣dence. Reverend Father, I am a great ad∣mirer of your wisdom.
In fine: We must now be merry. It is reckon'd amongst our cu∣stomes, that when we send any to Mo∣nasteries, Nunneries, or the like, they take their last leaves of the world with extraordinary jollity; and so must you: Wee'l be jovially merry before we part. Madam, where's your little Cozen? (the Girle that I begot of thy body, when I kept my Rule, and look't not beyond my own length, or the length of my Grave;) let us begin our Carnival with a Song.
Pretty, Call my Cozen.
They may honestly be mer∣ry, who afterwards presently renounce all mirth. He who saies, that fraud cannot be pious, nor piety fraudulent, is an Ass, a short ear'd Ass, and was never bottom'd in Schoole Divinity.
My little Cozen, pleasure us now with a Song, and you bind us over to kiss your hands. (She sings.) As much to the pur∣pose as you can.
Directly to the purpose.
Mistresse Dorothy, England's Helen for beauty: my Cozen levels at your favour.
She has her aim. She sings like a little Nun.
Three or four dayes we con∣secrate to mirth.
Our Prologue to it has been sweet.
To singing, dancing, feasting.
Betwixt fasting and feasting, there is but the difference of one poor let∣ter; we may readily slip out of one into the other.
Come dear Friends, follow me merrily, merrily.
Act. 5. Scen. 3.
My Cozen is uncag'd, and I fear flown beyond catch, beyond reco∣very. Had she been within my Wals, and but as big as a new-born child, or a childe's Baby, I had found her; but she cannot here be found, who is not here. What shall I do? No, that will be to Inn at the Labour in vain: Something I have brought forth; under what Star I know not: I will send to all the Port-Towns that are near, chance may be so gracious to me, that I may take her in one of them at the rebound, at the second run. If I catch her, I shall cage her compani∣ons.
My Lord, A poor Sea-man at the door, is very earnest to speak with your Lordship. He talks of businesse, and that of no small importance; and he sayes, he must not, as being a poor man, send his businesse by an Interpreter.
A Sea-man? and with im∣portant businesse? send him to me.
Most certainly, my Cozen cannot reach the Sea so soon: she is not wing'd at her feet like Mercury. He may be a poor man, that has had great losses at Sea, and comes a begging; if so, he will be a fit Subject of charity, and libe∣rality: indeed the winds have chid and bellow'd loud alate.
Seaman, What wind blew you hither?
May it please your Lordship, an angry wind, may it please your Lord∣ship; a roaring and raging wind, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lordship.
I thought so, I did imagine it was a begging businesse: it pleases not me, that you were molested with an an∣gry Page 57 wind, endamag'd by a roaring and raging wind. But what's your present condition?
May it please your Lordship, I did belong, may it please your Lordship, to a Vessel call'd the Virgin, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lord∣ship.
The Virgin? 'Twas not the Virgin Martyr, her name was not Doro∣thy, was it?
May it please your Lordship, no, not so, may it please your Lordship.
O, on with your Story. The fellow's distracted with his losses, or ve∣ry sick of the Simples.
May it please your Lordship, In this weak Vessel call'd the Virgin, may it please your Lordship, we made notwith∣standing a Voyage to the West-Indies, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lordship; and after some length of time, may it please your Lordship, we return'd in due time, may it please your Lordship, rich-laden, may it please your Lordship. We were bound, may it please your Lordship, I say, may it please your Lordship, we were bound in our return for London, may it please your Lordship, and at the River's mouth, may it please your Lordship, our weak Vessel known by the name of Virgin, may it please your Lordship, by reason of that angry, roaring, and raging wind, may it please your Lordship, I cannot tell it without weeping, may it please your Lordship, foundred like a tyred Mare, like old Hob∣son's Mare, may it please your Lordship, and we all that were in the Vessel named the Virgin, were cast away and lost, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lordship. I my self was quite cast away with the rest, may it please your Lordship, as far as I can remember, may it please your Lordship, but here I am again, I think, may it please your Lord∣ship, or, I am sure, my Ghost, may it 〈◊〉 your Lordship, to beg your be∣〈…〉, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lordship.
But how cam'st thou to shore?
May it please your Lordship, I know not whether I am at shore yet or no, may it please your Lordship, but if I am at shore, may it please your Lord∣ship, I came to shore, like Bacchus astride upon a Hogshead, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lord∣ship.
Were none sav'd but thee?
May it please your Lordship, again I say as I said before, I do not as yet well know whether I am sav'd or no, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lordship.
Alas poor simple fellow, the fright his dazled his understanding. There are twenty shillings for thee, to recruit and refresh thee after thy sorrows and losses.
May it please your Lordship, I thank your Lordship, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lordship, may it please—
No more of that, may it please your Lordship.
Pardon me, my Lord, my pur∣pose was to say it twenty times over, be∣cause your Lordship gave me twenty shillings, and I desire to be hired so, may it please or not please your Lord∣ship.
Sea-man, you have your alms.
May it, or may it not please your Lordship, if you are pleas'd, I am pleas'd, pleas'd I am not if you are not Page 58 pleas'd, may it please or not please your Lordship, twenty-score thanks for your twenty shillings, may it please or not please your most liberal Lordship.
I had forgot half my Arrant, may it please your Lordship. I lost my memo∣ry when I was cast away, may it please your Lordship. We having lost one Virgin at the Rivers mouth, may it please your Lordship, I found another at the tail of the salt water, may it please your Lordship. Now I come to Mistresse Do∣rothy, may—
My Cozen Dorothy, what of her?
May it please your Lordship.
No, no, she does not please my Lordship. Once more I tell you, lop that off.
Then I shall speak no more of her, may it please your Lordship.
Again? yes, yes, on with Mi∣stresse Dorothy.
Why then, may it please your Lordship.
My Lord, in good earnest, my Lord, I am but a simple Idiot: I cannot tell you the Story, except you suffer me to tell it after my manner: I must go in my beaten road, steer my own course, my Lord.
Tell it then after thy manner.
May it please your Lordship, Mrs Dorothy took shipping at Gravesend, yesterday morning at five of the Clock, may it please your Lordship. The Sea∣men, my Brethren that belong'd to the vessel, presently weigh'd Anchor; the wind was fair for her, as fair as she, may it please your Lordship; and so it has held; and by this time she must needs be in Holland, or in France, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lord∣ship.
But how camest thou to know she was my Nice Dorothy, and to be di∣rected hither?
May it please your Lordship, I begg'd of her, as I now do of your Lord∣ship, and told her I was going beyond London a great way to my Friends in the Countrey, may it please your Lordship; and presently she put her white hand into her pocket, and pull'd forth two half crowns, and gave them to me, may it please your Lordship, and made me pro∣mise her, that I would bring hither her Duty to your Lordship, and this news with it, may it please your Lordship, may it please your Lordship. Moreover, she gave me a Token for your Lord∣ship.
A Token? thou gav'st me no Token: where's the Token?
May it please your Lordship: a Token, by the which your Lordship should know, that it was she, concern∣ing a strange man and an Ape, but that I have almost forgot, because the best part of my memory was cast away when I was drown'd, may it please your Worship, Lordship I should have said. Now you have both ends of my Story, there is all, if it like your Lordship, if it like your Lord∣ship.
None of it likes me. By all signs and tokens this must be she. Then all farther enquiry will be vain, and run upon a false Bias. Seaman, here, I give thee a Crown more for thy fidelity.
May it please your Lordship, I came with Fidelity, and I shall depart with Fidelity, and perhaps that will deserve a Crown more, may it please your Lordship, and it like your Lordship. My Lord frowns. I must be gone.
Act. 5. Scen. 4.
I have seen a Sight here, per∣haps not unusual, yet strange to me: a Mountebank in this blind and uncouth part of the Suburbs, upon a common Stall. I took him for a Ballad-singer, till I came neer him: but finding him af∣terwards to be a Mountebank, I waited upon the sequel. He had his paints, his white and red for women; his powders of all colours; his perfumes, mixt and simple; his salves for all fores and griefs; he could abate the Drunkards rednesse, and fire in his face, and raise a pale co∣lour to beauty, from within: he could awake Appetite, set a man to sleep, by∣asse nature as he pleas'd: He could fur∣nish a man or woman with new teeth, new eyes, new ears, new noses, new arms, new legs: I expected when he would have said, new Heads, new Hearts. If my Ears scout it rightly for my Soul, I heard him say, that he could restore a lost Maiden-head. He spake contemptibly of drinking poisons: that, said he, the common Rabble and Rub∣bish of Mountebanks, the vile Offal of Quacksalvers can do. He suppled us with a Story of one Barthochabas an Au∣thor of Sedition amongst the old Jews, who so medicin'd his mouth, and ma∣nag'd a device in it, that he seem'd to vomit fire; and he profes't upon the Re∣putation of a Gentleman, that he had the Receipt: He put on with another Example of a man at Millan an Italian City, who washed his face and hands with scalding lead, as carelesly and as confidently, as a man washeth his hands and face with ordinary water; having first washed them with an extraordinary, new-found, and hardening water of his own: And of this water he protested as he was an Artist, he had a great Quanti∣ty. We had from him a whole fardle of such stuff. To all People that bought of his Trash to the value of Twelve-pence, he gave a printed Bill, designing the Place where he lies, and the manifold motions and out-walkings of his skill. I stood in the crowd while he staid upon the Stall; and when he came down and leyel'd himself with the People, I ob∣serv'd that speaking with several Persons, he did insinuate these or the like words; All men have a natural care of their Bo∣dies, but who regards his own Soul? If a simple Asse fals in the streets, many wise men run to lift the simple Asse up; but if a Man's Heart or Soul lies wallow∣ing in the dirt, such a Soul or Heart is not regarded; pray, come to my lodg∣ing: these words had their mysterious aim. Now this metaphysical Doctor, this all-able Mountebank with all his packs, and his knacks, is the Benedictine-Jesuite, whom I have us'd, and by whom I have been manifoldly abus'd. As I take it, he takes this way. The Bastille has chang'd me, and I believe he knows me not. I'le tosse a word or two with him as he passes.
Our Army is vanish't, our Conventicles are quell'd and supprest: and we must be doing, be Soul-catching: By idleness the dead Sea has been long found dangerous. The Intelligencies alwayes move the Heavens: the Windes the Air and Sea: Fire is never out of Page 60 Action. Besides, Vespatian the Emperor was wise; Dule is odor lucri ex re quâlibet: Thus alwayes something comes in; and something has some savour. The Spani∣ards wittily, and with a Sarcasm call the Jesuits, Los teatinos, y los Padres Teati∣nos, the Teatines, and the Teatine Fa∣thers; from this Account: A Spanish Painter being scandal-struck by the Co∣vetousness of the Jesuits, drew a Picture after this manner: He hung in the upper∣most Part of his Table, a vast Purse of Money: He set round about it, in the lower parts; one of every sort of Men∣dicant Friers; who looked upwards wil∣lingly, yea devoutly upon it, but durst not touch it, as being forbidden by the Rules of their several Orders: He paint∣ed a Jesuite in some distance, armed with a Bow and Arrows, and looking over (and indeed over-reaching) the poor Mendicants: For, he held up his Bow, and had let his Arrow flie, which had struck the Mark (the Purse) and now stuck in it; he still keeping a fierce and eager eye upon the Mark: And the Painter had learnedly derived these Latin words from his mouth, hanging, as if the cold Air had frozen them into a Record, To attingo, ô Purse, I reach thee, I hit thee, I have thee: whence the Spaniards, being edified by the devotion of the Painter, and the holiness of the Picture, presently call'd the Jesuits, Los Teatinos, the Spa∣nish word coming up as neerly as it may, to the Latine, from which the Spanish Language hath deviated: But the Painter had excellently compleated his Piece, had he pictured our modern English Monk catching away the Purse, for which all the others gap'd, and which the Jesuite thought he had heart-struck.
Sir, I am a most humble Peti∣tioner to you.
Where's your Petition?
My mouth presents it, Sir.
My ears are open to receive it.
That I may have leave to love you, and be your Scholar. I have been your Hearer, and you have transform'd me into a great Lover and Honourer of you.
What are your wants?
I am wanting both in Soul and Body, Sir.
I can supply the wants of both: both I cure.
Come to my Chamber.
Pray, favour me with leave to wait upon you thither.
Act. 5. Scene 5.
Ye are both apt Scholars. But you, Boy, must learn to open your mouth wi∣der, when the fit's upon you.
I open it as wide as I can, good Father.
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.
Reverend Father, you have taught me obedience, and I shall practise it.
Boy, I am very much pleas'd with your vomiting of nails, crooked pins, nee∣dles, hair, pibble stones, and the like: Page 61 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.
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.
Woman, Boy, the Stranger is an Heretick: while we are here, you know your parts.
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.
Alas, miserable and unhappy Creatures, they are possest.
Possest with Devils.
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.
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 Page 62 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:—
They are Scandals you stum∣ble at.
You must abjure those, if you enter our list.
Father Robert, let us leave him: that the Miracle of the Woman and Boy may further convince him.
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.
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.
O good Sir, come back. I am a poor Widdow, and have nothing where∣with to keep life and soul together.
And I am a very poor Boy. Sir, I was a Beggar-Boy, and begg'd from door to door.
I am satisfied. Not a word of what has hapned, as you love your own safeties.
Boy, we must not say a word of this to the Fathers: if we do, we shall be turn'd forth a begging.
Is the Gentleman gone?
Yes, reverend Father: but thun∣der-struck with the Miracle: He will, he saies, wait upon you an other time.
So, so: come, supper attends us.
Act 5. Scene 6.
They within depend upon me to begin this last Scene with a Dance fa∣shionable to our Matter: and they will not be denied. The Dancers commence their entrance.
This is the Monk that Poison'd Henry the seventh Emperour, in a Church, being devoutly on his knees: In what manner he poison'd him, it is profane to name, and therefore was most impious and most execrable to do. Andreas Lampugnanus, a Courtier of Millan, neerly followed him, in Time, with respect unto the Place, and in the substance of Practise; but the Devil could not have scrued a Wicked∣ness higher than the Monk did. Rottennes follow both their memories.
This is the Monk that Poison'd John King of England in a Monastery, and that he might accomplish his mischievous work without suspicion, first poison'd himself, drinking a health to the King in a poison'd Cup. Let his Name be thought as poisonous as his Poison.
This is Clement the Jacobin Frier, that Page 63 murthered Henry the third, King of France, by searching into his body with a sanctified Knife; to whose Pralse Sice Cinque, the great Caliph at Rome, a kinde of almighty Favourer and Patron of the Jesuits, dedicated a Panegyricall Ora∣tion; May he and his Patron be never remembred, but under the notion that the Devil was Patron to both.
This is Barrier, that attempted the murther of Henry the fourth, the late fa∣mous King of France, with a poison'd Altar-Dagger, a Poison'd Dagger con∣secrated on the Altar. May he and his Dagger be odious to the whole Mass of Mankinde.
This is Raviliack, Barriers Executor; animated thereunto by Varad a Jesuit: Let him and his Counsell our be so loath'd and abhorr'd by all men, that after∣wards the very Toad may seem amiable to us.
This with his dark Lanthorn is Guido Vaux. His horrid attempt and compli∣ance with Garnet and Oldcorn Jesuits, and others is not forgotten; though the Age now declining, the Friends of that Fa∣ction report it a meer Fable: In the Age following, they will infallibly declare it a Fable ex Gathedrâ. Father Tompson, our Schollars Ghostly Father at Rome, boasted that he was an Actor in the Pow∣der-Treason, and that he then digg'd many times under our Parliament-House till every thred of his shirt was wet. All those horrid Plotters were afterwards chronicled for Martyrs, in the English Martyrologie printed Anno Dom. 1608, and Garnets Picture exposed to sale, was adorned with Rayes about the Head, sig∣nifying his Glory and Saintship. May all good People lay the memories of these Saints beneath them, when they go to the little House in the Garden.
This is Tony, a young extract of Ro∣mish blood, that wounded our Poet in the face with a Knife of the Dagger-Fa∣shion, intending to kill him. Let him pass as the simple Tony, and Fool of the Company. If any one hath incurr'd that wicked Name of Rebel, let him behold here with horrour, whom he hath imita∣ted: The Monks have imitated the De∣vil, the first and grand Rebel; the Jesu∣its have imitated the Monks, and the De∣vil; and Rebels imitate the Jesuits, the Monks, & the Devil.
Sir, will you buy a Book, a Godly Book?
What Books have you?
Books of Devotion, Sir: you may take your choice of English or La∣tin.
Are you a Booksellour?
Yes, Sir, a poor one: but my Books are not sold publickly.
Your Books, I see, belong to the t'other side of the great Pond.
They do, Sir: therefore they bear the higher price here.
Madam, will your Ladiship be pleas'd to buy a Book?
Sir, I have good Books to sell.
Are you there again. He sells his Books as a Pedling sort of men sell Page 64 base Tobacco; in the streets, but with∣out publick notice.
One short word with you, Sir: You remember the most heavy charge you laid upon me.
I have done what lies on my part. If there were an Ocean of Time, I could meet it with a Sea of Matter: But all things have their assigned limits: and by the foot of Hercules, Pythagoras his Schollar may proportion the whole Bo∣dy. I have carried you up to the highest Orb of my Policies: which is: to dis∣guise the most innocent and most simple Persons into the most busie-witted and most pragmaticall: and thereby, to turn vertue in her native white, and her un∣mingled colour, forth into contempt: So that all true Piety comes into the gripe of Scorn; and all Truth within the censure of Suspition: onely Politick Knaves thrive, and poor Honesty is neglected and rejected. Now Sir, having done my work I expect my wages.
I renounce you.
I shall not easily renounce my Right in you. Look you, Sir. I can ap∣pear like my self at my pleasure.
Heaven shield us: Is our most reverend Father turn'd Devil? Father Robert help us. Lend me a godly Book.
And me another. O good lack, I have been at confession with the devil ma∣ny a time. I fear he will not keep counsel.
This is strange in a high and mighty measure. Yet Mistris. Few there are of your reverend Fathers, that would not shrink into Devils, if they should ap∣pear in their own likenes.
I am amaz'd. What! Is my re∣verend Brother a Devil? Thou foul fin: would'st thou be so limit-less, as to take our holy Habit upon thee? how durst thou presume to touch it?
Sir, he claims me too; because I commanded him by the Power of natu∣ral Magick: and for this he would spoil our Comedy.
I have rather conserv'd your Comedy: who should otherwise have introduced the Monks poisoning their Adversaries, and the Jesuites lessoning their Scholars at the sight of Pictures, and the stabbing of Images, to stab and kill.
Let me see, where is my Flagel∣lum Daemonum? Thou hellish Dog, De∣part, or I will amand, ablegate, and send thee to some vast and horrid Desert, where in all thy Apparitions thou shalt fright nothing but contemptible Flies, ignoble Serpents, and the like. Thou hast long been wandring, and here thou art out of thy proper Place, and I arrest thee. Thou goest: I have it here. Ego te, Be∣stiam infernalem—.
The Magitian is but one. I may gain thousands by relinquishing him, and plying the credulous world with a belief that I fear such bug bears. O, O.
Once I have said, and I say the se∣cond time, Ego te Bestiam infernalem—.
O, no more of that, good Sir: I'le leave the Magitian behind me, and go quietly away, if you please to loose me.
Well done, Reverend Father: your Books are formidable: the Devil fears you, and them.
I fear not this Monkish Devil. Sir, what shall I give you for your Fla∣gellum Daemonum? It will be helpfull to me in scourging the Monks: I doubt not but I shall find more Devils amongst them.
How say you, good Sir, shall I depart quietly?
Quietly, and quickly.
Wife, shall I not kiss before I go?
I abhor thee. I confess I had a child by thee thou cursed Incubus, but I was never married to thee. The name of Husband and Wife with us, were but words, I abbor thee.
As my Mistris abhors thee, so do I abhor thee. Whatsoever I confes't to thee, I'le confess again to a lawfull Priest.
My Lord, O my Lord Luci∣fen: Order you had, or you could not have conserv'd your Government: now All's out of all Order. The Monks and Jesuites in your long absence have set all Hell on fire: they differ'd at first amongst themselves, and now they have stir'd up, and set all Hell against you. Your very Se∣raglio of Vestals are wrought and brought into the Combustion.
O, Now am I sick indeed, and beyond Legerdemain. You are the sini∣ster cause of all this, Agrippa.
Touch him not. Ego te, Bestiam infernalem—.
I swell into the Mountain Olympus. O, how I swell! I shall burst asunder: And there's a dreadfull tempest in my stomack. How, and where shall I empty my self? I know not where to be∣stow my troubled stomack, and my sedi∣tious belly. O good Females help me. O some kind body, point me to a secret place. O.
Help the Devil? Not I.
Your helping hand Lucifuga.
O Juno Lucina fer opem. Noise of straining.
Sir: I admonish you in private, to guard your Person: the Monks and Je∣suites cannot observe a distance; they will endanger your life by themselves or their Abettors.
I am in your opinion: but if they kill me, they will immortalize the settled opinion the world hath of them; and I shall appear before him who knows that in all the story, I have kept the path of substantial Truth; and alwayes like Timanthes the Painter, cover'd more than I shew'd. I may have misplac'd and mis∣center'd an Action, but in the substance I have been quadrate with Truth. Beyond this, These Renegadoes expose our Nati∣on, being also their own, ridiculous in their Colledg-Comedies beyond the Seas: why should not we then, within our own Sphere and Region, pay them with the Law of Talion, especially after such most abusive, and most injurious Transactions?
I side with you.
And now, if Archimedes were alive, be would sooner undertake to num∣ber the sands of the Sea, than to summe up the lies that will Epilogize to the Epi∣logue of this Comedy.
My Lord's well amended. He has both vomited and gone to the stoole. He spew'd a proud Jesuite: and was brought to bed backwards of a drun∣ken Monk. Here he comes in the midst of them.
The Jesuire is as like him as if he spat him out of his mouth.
The Monk is a Reverend Monk of a little one.
A Sir Reverence Monk, you should have said.
I have suffered thee too long. De∣part: Ego te—
Lord, and Prince: your presence in Hell will soon allay this Insurrection.
Be gone. Ego te Bestiam—
Farewell, Agrippa: I'le weave out the little parcel of my life, in the good old Garden-house of Devotion.
I and my Maid will setup School again: we shall never want Schollars. But Pretty, we must have a special care to keep the Devil out of our Quarters.
Madam, every man that offers himself at the Door, shall there bare his feet: wee'l see if he be cloven-sooted or no.
I'le joyn my forces with Fa∣ther Robert, my zealous Defender against the Devil. Sir, I shall buy Books of you.
And I shall further instruct you.