The female prelate being the history of the life and death of Pope Joan : a tragedy: as it is acted at the Theatre Royal / written by Elkanah Settle ...
About this Item
- Title
- The female prelate being the history of the life and death of Pope Joan : a tragedy: as it is acted at the Theatre Royal / written by Elkanah Settle ...
- Author
- Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724.
- Publication
- London :: Printed for W. Cademan ...,
- 1680.
- Rights/Permissions
-
To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
- Subject terms
- Joan (Legendary Pope) -- Drama.
- Cite this Item
-
"The female prelate being the history of the life and death of Pope Joan : a tragedy: as it is acted at the Theatre Royal / written by Elkanah Settle ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A59312.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 6, 2024.
Pages
Page 57
Alas, poor injur'd Prince!
Page 58
Oh my sad heart!
Riddles and Death! what mystick sounds are these?
Ha!
Page 59
Thunder and Earthquakes!
Ha!
Page 60
My Lord, I can.
I flie to obey you, Sir.
Page 61
How, Boy!
Damnation!
Page 62
Page 63
Together let 'em break.
Page 64
My Lord, you shall.
How, Boy! say that again.
Page 65
Well Neighbours, since his Holiness is pleased to give us a Holy-day, let us improve it, and make the best use on't, that is, go to the Tavern, and be down-right drunk.
I, Neighbour, for I never knew any other use of a Ho∣ly-day, but first to go to Church, and then be drunk.
You make a just interpretation: but here lies the que∣stion, whether we shall sit in the Tavern like Sots, and not be drunk till night, or go and be presently drunk, then go home, beat our Wives, and sleep an hour, then rise and be drunk again before Sun-set, this I take to be the improvement of the day.
I, I, 'tis, 'tis.
But heark you, Neighbour, do you never go to Church?
Positively, no; my reasons I will render. First, you do not take me for the least Fool amongst you.
No, no!
Nor the least Knave, Neighbour's.
No, No.
Then I conclude I'll never pray at all, whilst we we have such Shoals of Church Men to do it for us, as Cardinals, Monks, Abbots, Priors, and a thousand Orders more; and with all these Holy Men about us, 'tis impossible we should be damn'd, Neighbours.
Ay, but, Neighbour, you ought to help at a dead lift, 'tis hard trusting to other mens prayers.
Why, don't I pay for it, I tell thee it goes against the grain to pray and pay too, I'll not do't not I, and if I be damn'd, at their peril be it.
Then I perceive, Neighbour, you are in a desperate condition.
Not at all, for always when I pay the Priest his du∣ties I always take an acquittance, and those Acquittances I take as a Passport to slip me by Purgatory into the other world.
Page 66
But which of those other worlds do you think to go to?
So I 'scape Purgatory, no matter which.
But I am afraid this will not do your Work, Neighbour!
Then let the Church 'bate me my Peter-pence, and I'll pray for my self: and ne'er trouble them, and that I think is fair.
Aye, Aye!
Besides that's taking the bread out of the Priests Mouths, and that's no other than Sacrilege, 'tis plain Intrench∣ment.
Intrenchment! what's Intrenchment!
Are you such a fool you don't know what Intrench∣ment means, why Intrenchment is a hard word, and you all know what a hard word is,
I, I.
Why, 'tis medling with what we have nothing to do with, which is no better than picking ones Pocket; why Neigh∣bour, you keep a reverend Brandy Shop, and would not you take it ill if a Cardinal should set up, and sell Brandy by you? In troth, he'd go nigh to break you.
I dod, would he?
I'll undertake, if a Cardinal should sell Brandy, he'd be the richest man in all Rome.
I'll undertake then I'll find you one shall do't.
But see that which you call'd a Procession looks more like a Funeral.
Dad, he speaks well.
Page 67
Our humble Suppliant.
Well Sir, I understand you are a Prince, and that your good Lady is dead, and you'd have us make her alive again. We can do you no good in it; 'tis not every man that lives in Rome can do that Job, but if you'll speak to the Pope, or one of his Cardinals they'll do it for a word speaking.
Why, has the Princess been so serv'd!
So it seems, if you'll believe a dead woman.
But, pray, Sir, if a man may be so bold, who was the Dog that did this plaguy Job; by S. Winnifred, my Fingers do so itch to be at him.
Page 68
Ay, do but tell us where we may find the Dog, and we will roast the Rogue: and make the Devil a Feast of him.
Gold, Boys!
A noble worthy Prince, and we'll live and die by him.
How, not believe, and live at Rome.
Do we believe in Images, and Relicks, and Holywater, and Miracles, and not believe an honest golden Prince?
The Pope!
The Pope!
Page 69
I will not fight with thee.
Thou hast kill'd me, and Damnation thank thee for't.
Thus far, blest Saint, thy great revenge succeeds.
Dear adored Devil, save me but this once.
Inhumane Insolence.
Exquisite Traytor!
Page 70
Burn, burn the Traytor.
Burn him, burn him, burn him.
Page 71
Burn him, burn him.
Miscarried in the Street, i'th' open face of day.
Oh speak.