Pluto his Trauailes: or the Diuels Pilgrimage to the Colledge of Iesuits.
BEFORE Wee shew the Iesuites bald Crowne, or discouer his plottes, it will fal necessary that we let you vnderstand this perilous Pilgrimage of the Diuell, nay, rather to y e Diuell. And for the better proceeding of the Writer, and larger vnderstanding of the Reader, I haue diuided this Iourney into fiue parts, purposing to speake particularly of them in their seuerall places: The points are these: viz. The Pilgrimage; secondly, the Pilgrime; thirdly, the Saint whereto they trauell; fourthly, the things they offer fifthly and lastly, y e fruites of their Iourney.
The first part of the iourney.The word Pilgrimage signifieth a iourney of penance, or rather, a kinde of banishment for a certaine space: Indeed it is a fearefull banishment, not for a certaine space, but (without repentance) an euerlasting excluding of the Soule from grate. And of this word there be thrée kinds spoken by a figure. The first, is the life of man vpon Earth, or the time of his life compared to a Pilgrimage. The second, is a iourney into a farre [Page] country. And the third, is that of which we now spake, a perseuering in blinde superstition, by which we make with euery step that we tread, a fearefull Pilgrimage towards the Diuell. But vnderstand me, it is not the vse of the word that makes it odious before God, and good Christians: But the vse and abuse of the matter, meant by the word, as for example: The Pilgrimage of our Sauiour.The Conquerour of Sinne, Death, and Hell, trauelled his Pilgrimage in meane estate; he had not his Chariot drawn with foure or sixe Palfreys, rarely trapped, three or foure Lackies running by, whilst he sate brisling in y e company of beautifull Ladies, in a Ueluet Seate, to sport at the poore panting Boyes; he was not attended with such obseruance in his Pilgrimage: But contrary wise, he trauelled on foote, and the best Beast that euer he mounted was a silly Asse: At this glorious last Supper, he sate not alone, feeding like a Churle, whilst his twelue Apostles waited at the Table, but like a kinde Lord and Maister, caused them to keepe him company: Me thinkes the vse of his humble Pilgrimage, is of force sufficient to reprooue a number of our Epieures in this age, that are so gréedy, they will scarce keepe men to waile vpon them, but where they trauell in their Pilgrimage, they trouble the whole house with attending them; and no Countrey in the world so vild for that as Italy, and France; England cannot altogether excuse her selfe of this culpable guilt; the excéeding many vanities that are vsed in this superstitious Pilgrimage, last spoke of, were much labour to write, and it would prooue tedious for you to reade, therefore passing ouer many, we will onely touch a few that are now in vse in Flaunders, and Brabant, our neighbour Countries (as it were) And I feare me too many here in England knew thē too well before they read them: But to our purpose.
Note this Story.There are two great and especiall Pilgrimages in the Countrey of Brabant, the one is to our Ladie of Seerpenhowell: [Page 3] the other is to S. Sceruias at Mastrike, which is a Cittie scituated vpon the famous Riuer the Mase, and borders on the Land of Luke; which Country is gouerned by a Bishop.
Their Pilgrimage to our Lady of Scerpenhowell is in this manner: The place where the Chappell stands was a thicke wood, where they affirme many robberies haue been done to the great indamaging of Passengers.
It Chaunced vpon a night, about the yere of our Lord 1597. A flocke of Sheepe belonging to a Farmer of a little Towne not farre off, were strayed from their accustomed walks, to the place where now the Chappell stands; the Sheepheard missing them, told his Maister, who presently tooke one way, and the Shepheard the other, to looke the strayed flocke; but it was the Sheepheards chance to light on this place, where all his Sheep sate round about a great Oake: The Shepheard assayed to driue them away, but could not; musing what might be the reason, he cast his eyes vp in the Tree, and sawe the Image of our Lady, which presently he tooke down, and presently the Sheepe came all bleating, and running about him: The amazed man could not lay downe the Image, but hasted home wards, the Sheepe following him, bleating as if they had accused him of theft. When he was come into the Towne, the people wondered, and presently sent for their Pastor, who caused the Image to be set in the Church; and the Sheepe were driuen to their Coats. The next morning the Sheepheard mist onely one Sheepe: And the Pastor going to the Church to say Masse, mist the new-come Image; whereupon he requested the Sheepheard to bring him to the place where he first found it, and taking some of the sufficientest men in the Towne, they approched heere the place, where they found the Image in the former place, and the Sheepe lying bound at the roate of the tree, and in the Barke of the tree in Romane letters [Page 5] was this Ingrauen, Offer this Sheepe, build heere a Church, and call it Scerpenhowell: The Priest amazed at this strange accident, put on his Roabes, and did commande y • company of his parishoners, where a solemne Masse was sung; y e sheepe sacrificed, & the day and place consecrated, for a remebrance of this much admired Miracle: presently this was rumord to the gates of Rome, & many thousāds came in deuotion to this most holy place, & did offer their bounteous beneuolēce, towards y t erecting of a Chappell: where by y e infinite number of People that came, & daily do come, the place is now become a populous Towne: 8. Priests are there richly mainteined, of eight countries, termed by y e name of secular Priests, to aduertise all strangers of this sheepish Miracle.
Note this.This story before written, I haue read in Latine, French, and Dutch: and this vpon my own knowledge I can affirme. There are in priuate two Chirurgions kept, of the most skilfullest men in the Countrey; and many bring sicke and lame Children thithet, which by the cunning of these skilfull men are cured, and the praise ascribed to our Lady of Scerpenhowell. This grosse crime is so closely, and cunningly carryed; & euery Sabaoth two Sermons made, in y e affirming of this Miracle, y e it remaines currant, as sterling money: and y e place is much inriched w e gold, & siluer; nay corne, wine, wool, eggs, or any other cōmedity is receiued in good part: But neuer any fruits come from thence, but y e Priests absolutions.
If I should recite euery thing particularly, it were to much black colour for a quire of paper; onely let this sufsice, to proue it no other, but a plaine & direct path, where the Diuell, or his seruants walke their Pilgrimage.
Now for the second: although it is not so sheepish, yet it is more sottish; and that is this. In Mastricke, in the yeere of our Lord 1542. there liued, & died a reuerend Bishop, who for his almes, and chastitie, it pleased the Pope, and the Councell of Trent to Cannonise for a [Page 4] Saint; presently his portrature was raysed in brasse, gilded with gold: to whom all the countrey come twice euery yeare, and bring aboundance of wealth. In this yeere 1611. there came an exceeding drought, & what happened by the pollicie of the Iesuits, you shall at large hears when I come to pluck off y e foure cornerd cap from their politike pates: I could describe the holy bloud of Buxall, and y e three Kings of Cullin; both which are two great frequented Pilgrimages at this day: Saint Lewes in France, S. Iaques in Spaine, & many in Italy; but they sauour of one tast; & therefore I should cloy your stomacks excedingly But prepare your appetites, for heere cōes a fresh dish, or y e second course of y e Pilgrimes. The second part of this Iourney.This word Pilgrime is deriued from Peregrin, which signifieth a Stranger, and of these three are three sorts, as for example: The constrayned Pilgrime; secondly the dissembling Pilgrime; and lastly y e needy Pilgrime. The constrained Pilgrime is this, one y • is appointed penance, for some certaine sin, by his, or her Confessour. Here may be an obiection made, in defence of the Priest, by any fauorite of their traditions: They may aske what cōmodity the Confessor shall gaine, by sending his offendant on Pilgrimage, but only the discharging of his conscience: To this I answere; It is no small profit that this brings to the Church of Rome. For consider who these are they send foorth, not their needy Pilgrimes, but their richest Benefactors, & with this prouiso they are sent; first they must offer a certaine sūme of riches to some Saint in his Confessors Church; secondly he must giue so many shillings, for Masses to be saide in his absence, to the end he may haue a prosperous iourney: thirdly he must visite so many Shrines in his Pilgrimage: Fourthly, heare so many Masses by the way: Fifthly, giue so much to the Saint he trauailes to, in honour of the fiue wounds of our Sauiour Christ: Sixthly, he must visit the Iesuits Cloysters in his iourney, and go to confession so [Page 6] many times. Seuenthly, and lastly, at his returne, Father confessors must not be forgotten. Thus you ses many wicked egges are hatched, vnder the dissembling habite of holynesse, and the constrayned Pilgrims must pay for the breeding of the Chickens.
Now for the second sort of the dissembling Pilgrims, I feare me there are too many: but omitting the secret, we will onely discouer the notorious and capitall sort. The third Edward of England had a faire Sister, called Philip, matched to the Duke of Sauoy, who at a certaine time standing before her gates, espied a Spanish Lady going in deuotion to Saint Lewes in Fraunce, And in curtesie desired her to take the entertainement of her Court; The Spanish Lady noting gracious speach and delicate beauty, tooke occasion to compare the beautie of the Dutches to the beauty of her Brother in Spaine, where at the Dutches burnt in such desire to see him, that was so highly commended by his owne Sister, that she dissembled her health, and lying sicke of a feyned disease, vowed to God (before the sorrowfull Duke) that if God should restore her to her former health, she would goe in deuotion to Saint Iaques in Spaine, and offer for her health.
Upon this Ladies returne, she Dutches recouered, and according to her vowe, she trauailed to Spaine for the sight of a Spanish Lord. At their enteruiew their sights were pleasing to each other, and their beauties admired of each other; and after some amorous conference, he vowing to serue her as her Knight, and she most willingly accepting, she returned, but with heauy successe, for the neuer sawe her wedded Lord after: He being imployed in wars, against the Duke of Burgundy, left a Lord of his Countrey as Deputy in his place, who vpon the returne of his Lady, burned in lustfull Loue with her beauty, and desired her to graunt him fauour for his affections: The chast Lady despising his motion, [Page 7] derided him for his folly, at which the villaine grew so enuious, being poisoned with the Diuels baite, that he sought all occasions to defame her, and by meanes of a silly Kimsman, he found way to bring her within the compaste of the law. And being by him accused for adulterie, she was condemned to fire, if none within the space of fifteene weekes should come to fight in her cause: this Spanish Lord hauing receiued a Letter of her wrongs, sent her word backe he could not, neyther would he come. Then she repented her long Iourney, and being voide of earthly hopes, prepared her selfe for death, expecting no deliuerance: But contrary to expectation, the Spanish Lord came in the habite of a Frier, and confest her in Prison, and afterwards sought for her, ouerthrew Pendosta, and freed her from death, and shame; and after the Dukes death marryed the Dutches.
Although this kind of dissimulation was euill in the Dutches, yet it comes not neare the close dissimulation that is vsed in these daies. I will giue you a tast of some in the Cittie of Cades in Spaine. There is a great Monastary of no small acount. where in many Gentlemen doe inclose their Daughtes: And so it was, there liued a Gentleman in the famous Cittie of Antwerpe, Note this 1603. who had a great desire to send his onely Daughter thiether, for he had no more: The Girle was about sixteene yeeres of age, and often sollicited by a Marchants sonne of the same Cittie; the Maide also grew inclyning to his will, and did much affect his sute, but in regard of her Fathers mind she could allow him no conference, but in priuate: And in short time they wrought so priuately together, that they ouerthrew the voyage; for thus it was: the Father made all prouision necessarie for his Girles tourney; And the young couple being loath to part, practised how to keepe company still, in a disguised fashion: So at the last, after long studie, Lady Lasciuious, with her Beldame Opportunity, growing acquainted [Page 8] with their suite, gaue them this counsell: the yong man to transforme himselfe into an effeminate shape, & so vnsuspected hee might safely trauell as a she Pilgrime in her company: but for the more safety it was agréed vpon betweene them, that hee should take the name of Dalinda, and present himselfe to the Gentlewoman so, in the shape of an attendant or poore Gentlewoman, séeming by her ciuill shew to be more rich in vertue then in beauty: all which was acted in such quaint manner that they seemed to surpasse the boyes of Blacke-fryars. Thus now must we leaue to call him by the name of a Merchants sonne, but pray you remember Dalinda, and all is well. Imagine you see the father and child parted with teares: she trauelling towards her holy life, being accompanied with her waiting maide, and the father hauing brought her a little on the way returned homewards, ioyfull that his child was so accompanied, for it seemed to him that his daughter tooke much delight in the society of her maide. But before wee pursue these two louely Pilgrimes any further, I must intreate you to bend your thoughts towards the Merchant, whose heart was much perplexed for the losse of his son. Many times would he go to the Gentlemans house & blame him exceedingly, for sending away so rich a iewell as his child that was in his power to kéepe; but I qnoth the Merchant haue lost that which if I could attaine to, it would make me young againe, but O my sonne, my son, I haue lost thee for euer: then would a fresh fountaine of teares bedew his manly chéekes, that mée thought it a pitty to behold, the other Gentleman would then giue him comfort, and tell him it was the custome of woemen to bewray their griefe with teares. Thus will we leaue the two childrenlesse fathers comforting each other, and ouertake the Gentlewoman and her maide Dalinda, for they are but new set forth,
The louely Pilgrimes accompanied each other & made [Page 9] the way short with their pleasing talke, each commending others wit in the seuerall acting of their parts, till at length the blacke eyed night lookt from the East, and Phoebus tooke his rest in Thetis lap, and this yoake of Pilgrims also according to the custome of trauellers, desired repose. Hauing takē vp their Inne they caused supper to be prouided, and after supper with-drew themselues into a faire chamber, where the maide counselled the Mistresse to accept of a bed fellow, telling the dangers of spirits, catching cold, idle thoughts, and panting greise that often haunted the minde of a sole & weake woman. Dalindas words were of such force that he preuailed, & the kind Gentlewoman affected her maide so much, that shee accepted of her society in bed: for these words shee spoke. Kind Dalinda although in this iourney you are to accompany me for a hand-maide, yet vpon the condition you will sweare to do me true seruice by night as you haue done by day, and serue me in bed as well as abroad I heere accep̄t of you for my choice bed fellow. In conclusion Dalinda agreed to all her kind Mistresse proposed, And so to bed they went: from whence I thinke shee rose discharged of the Art of honesty. Thus this yong couple past away their iourney merrily, vntill their long way had brought them to y e ports of Cades, where they were louingly receiued & brought to y e Abbesse of y t Monastery. Shée without further tryal of their intents presented them y e oath of chastity which they both solemnely tooke deepely vowing to kéepe themselues as they were. Thus they were accepted for sisters, but sister Dalinda shifted bed fellowes so often y e three of the sisters grew sick of y e double disease, which when Dalinda heard, for feare of punishment, found meanes to escape, and with shipping came to Amsterdam in Holland, where hée is wealthily married to the Burgomaisters daughter of the Citty. The 3 sisters were thrust out of the Monastery, & came home to their fathers, each of thē bringing y e honourable [Page 10] badge of chastitie breeding in their bellies.
There are too many of those dissembling Pilgrimes now a daies. Some I could write of, that would proue too shamefull for the Writer, and cause the Reader to blush; but leauing these close dissemblers to their most abhorred shame, that waits on wantons lust: Trouble your selues to turne ouer these leaues, and you shall find the dangerous estate of the needy Pilgrimes. Let this suffice for the second, & also to proue that all those that walke in this path, are without doubt the Diuels Pilgrimes, or at least, going Pilgrimage vnto him.
This needy Traueller is almost in the nature of an English Rogue, there is small difference, and he is as ranke a dissembler as y e other. There are of all Nations that professe this needy life, but of all, there are most Irish, and I can not blame them, for by nature they are borne to be lowsy, straglers and stirrers vp of rebellion; And since it hath pleased God of his mercy to plant his peaceable word, and by the meanes of his Seruant, our most gratious Soueraigne Lord, King Iames (whome God long preserue) to make a ciuill Countrey, of the most barbarous parts in Ireland: There are many that haue harkened to y e Diuels whispering, & sworne their true seruice to his adopted Sonne, the Romish Priest. No meruaile though they cannot content themselues vnder a quiet gouernment, but had rather eate of the Scraps of Spaine, and Italy, then feede of the plentie of their reformed Countrey: they are borne wild of brute bringing vp, and so they meane to continue: they neuer knew what reformation meant, neyther do they purpose euer to know, for as they were brought vp, so they bring vp their Children, onely to shamefull begging, in the manner of Pilgrims, with their Letters of Confession in a Tinne Boxe, which they hang by their sides: They walke in the name of the Popes Seruants; and indeed the needy Hipocrites do thriue in their vile profession [Page 11] exceedingly. But there is the mischiefe; what they g [...] with impudent begging, they spend with immodest abuses. There are also many of our countrymen, of this intreating trade, which for some offence are constrained to leaue the sweet and wholsome aire of their natiue country, and liue in the abhominations of the Babilonious Mistresse. And how the English Iesuits of Louaine do intreat them, you shall plainely see when their caps are of, and their crownes discouered. But courteous reader, feast no longer vpon the needy dish of Pilgrimes meat, but turne thy gentle eye, and see the Saint described whereto they trauell.
The third part of this Iourney.The Saints whereto they trauell are diuers, and according to the nature of the crime committed, or otherwise the necessity of the businesse they take in hand, for these are the principall vses of Pilgrimage, but wee are not to reason of the voyage, but of the ariuall, for after many a weary steppe with ioyfull hearts they enter the Temple, where their Saint stands, nay rather an abhominable Idoll or image of stone, onely it retaineth the shape of a dead man or woman, according to the pleasure of the Caruer, and after the Caruer hath most artificially finisht his Arte, comes the Painter, and daubes it ouer with his liuely colours. Some of their Saints seeme to smile, promising with an auspicious eye, grace (as it were) to the penitent petitioner: others are framed (by the Painters Arte) with a shew of wéeping, and to your thoughts the dead eye of the image will present teares, as though it did delacrimate mans misery, or seeme to weepe with a grieuing sorrow for the sinnes of the solemne suiter: Who can bee so blind except the diuell hath blinded him, to put any confidence in the Caruers skill, or the Painters Art? And who is not so blind (but those whom God hath opened their eyes that they may discerne the cleare light of the [Page 12] Gospell, and giue credit to this most heathen like and deuilish doctrine; this is all that I can describe of their Saint, a carued stone, or a painted, or guilded péece of wood. And the conclusion of my censure is this, that all those y • straggle in deuotion to visite these Saints, cannot misse the way towards the diuell, and some trauell barefoote too, because they will take the more paines in this detested Pilgrimage. I am loath my pen should vrge so bare a subiect any further, yet one thing gentle Reader with thy patience I must vnfold concerning their Saints, the much honoured image of our blessed Lady is in most places richly deckt with robes of diuers colours, as for example, where the Angell saluted her shee is set forth in a white lawne robe in token of chastity, with her golden tresses of haire hanging downe her backe, and a modest blushing bespread her virginlike cheekes. After her conception, she is adored with scarlet. After the birth of our Sauiour, in blacke veluet: and at his passion she is pictured in a blew vaile: thus after their owne inuentions, they forme the image of the blessed Uirgin, and also of all other Saints, which I here omit.
The fourth part of this Iourney.The fourth part of our iourney consists in the things they offer, which briefly we will touch, because we long to vncap the dissembling Iesuite. The things they offer are of three kinds: viz. first, Orisons; secondly, Gifts: and thirdly Thanks: as for their Orisons, they are in this manner: they commonly kneele on their bare knees, or else prostrate all along with their beades in their hands, they say so many Pater-nosters, Aue-Maries, and Creeds as their Ghostly father hath appointed them, then they blesse the image, desiring the Saint in heauen to looke downe and see in what humble deuotion hee honours his or her image, then they crosse themselues which they call blessing themselues▪ and departing into a celler or a vault vnder ground, where they say the Saints bodies lie buryed, they first doe their deuotion in prayers and [Page 13] after offer such gifts as they bring, be it gold, siluer, veluet, silks, cambrike, linnen, wollen, leade, corne, wine, oile, egges, or any other commodity, but gold and siluer is the pleasingst gifts that the Saints accept of, and bringing good store of that, no doubt but all shall goe wel with their suits: This being laid vpon the Altar the Priest consecrates it, absolues the party, and prayes to the Saint for him that he may haue his desire: the Pilgrime sufficiently contented, returnes to the former image, and there powring forth a million of thankes for his good successe, in that the Saint hath vouched safe by his Priest to accept of their vnworthy offerings, and so they returne discharged of their golden burden.
Let this suffice for their offerings. Now concerning the fruits of this iourney before rehearsed, it is of two kinds, that is general and particular. The general fruite is deceipt which the poore Pilgrimes plucke with greedy appetites, the tree whereon this fruite groweth, is y e Romane Church, and it neuer misseth bearing▪ for neither y e heate of Summer, nor the cold of Winter can destroy it, it is a forbidden fruite, and whosoeuer desireth to tast thereof must needes be deceiued, it shewes faire to the eye, and promiseth life, but within it is corrupted and bringeth death, this is the generall fruite they reape for their trauell. My reason is this, the diuell is a common deceiuer, and those that post Pilgrimage towards him must needs tast of this deceiptfull fruite.
The second fruite they reape is particular, according to the disposition of the party that desires it: this tree is generall but it beares particular fruits, as vaine hope, wilfull ignorance, blind zeale, corrupt beleife, false worship, and lastly death and damnation. It would seeme idlenesse in me to discourse of these seuerally, or to seeme to disswade men from this, therefore. I will leaue it to your owne iudgement, and to the learned Diuines counsell, [Page 14] which is of farre more force, then my simple perswasions can bee. Thus much for this diuelish Pilgrimage.
Friendly Reader, if this long iourney hath not wearied thee, goe on a little further, and thou shalt see my honest simple skill in vnmasking the Iesuits plots, let thy heart be as free from enuy, as my pen, which shall put downe nothing but truth, and what I haue seene, and dare affirme by oath, were it to their téethes. Therefore I hope none will taxe mee of malice, for I had rather be conuicted of simple plainenesse, hauing truth on my side, then commended for an artificiall writing where the truth is wronged by false suggestions. But leauing all to thy kind considerations, I am purposed to go forward with my vnlearned stile, relating their learned approued practises.
Heere endeth the Diuels Pilgrimage, and here beginneth the bare-headed Iesuits.
THere are diuers Orders in the Romish religion, as namely y e Benedicts, y e Dominictes, the Franciscans, the Augustines, the Carthusians, y e Carmelites, y e Capucines, and lastly the Iesuits, of whom wee purpose to speake, In Latine they are called societatis Iesu: in Dutch, Iesuiter, which signifieth Iesus fellowes, or at least the fellowship of Iesus. This Sect is but of small continuance, or but of yong growth, yet neuer Sect in the world hath flourisht so for the time, for in them the Diuell shewes himselfe to bee a true Politician, and they as his faithfull instruments, spread his pollicy through the greatest part of Europa:
[Page 15]In Louaine a Citty in Brabant, eight leagues distant from Antwerpe, is crected a Colledge at the King of Spaines charges for English Iesuits, wherin at this present inhabits father Taubut, which is the Superiour, father Ioseph, father Kempe, father Anthony, father Minister, & many more, besides punies & nouicies, They haue their Colledge allowed them, for these purposes. First, to reconcile or conuert any of their countrimen that happen into their hands. Secondly, to disguise themselues, and like Gentlemen to come into England, and pry into Court and Counsels to know the state of y e land and Church, & to transport their news to y e Pope, & their Spanish Lord. For these two purposes they are maintained, but wee'l come a little nearer. Note this.If a Gentleman chance to goe ouer, their cinque port descries him presently, then with letters they inuite him thither where they so worke him, that hee shall hardly escape the snares and baits are laid to entangle him: when hee is caught they bring him to confession, where they know his quantity of substance, and quality of minde, which beeing knowne, they shriue and ease him of his substance, if hee bee learned they accept of him in their society, otherwise send him to the Carthusians in Mackelyn, or else to Saint Omers in Flanders, or to Rome, to make him the fitter for their purpose. This is their vsage to Gentlemen. If a poore man come to them, they accept him willingly, and examine him concerning his conscience, if they finde him not currant, they admonish him shewing him bookes of instruction in the principles of religion: if this catch him not, they allure him with promises, not onely of a heauenly crowne, but of some earthly crownes: the needy snake cannot chuse but nibble at this charitable baite, and rather then faile they will then venture a crowne or two, and with comfortable workes [Page 16] tell him that if he continue he shall not want, and to the furthering of this comfort they giue him letters of attestation, where and when he was conuerted, from a loathed heriticke, to a godly and blessed Catholique, then dismissing him the house, they tell him it is no shame to begge and bid him be bold. Thus he that could liue in his owne country by his honest labour, is conuerted, or rather by them peruerted to an impudent and shamelesse beggar: this is one of their priuy pollicies, to shadow their detested couetousnesse, for if they bestow an Angell of a beggar, they begge a brace of hundreds from a gallant, thus they buy and sell their conscience but they will be sure to gaine by the bargaine.
This abhominable sect is luld in the lap, and snuggles in the breasts of the seuen deadly sinnes (as they call them) yet they haue artificiall maskes to shadow all from the vulgar eys of the world. Their pride is couered with humility, as appeares by their plaine habit, and courteous speeches, yet their hearts heape vp ambitious thoughts: here may be a question asked, how I know the heart? I will resolue you, I haue seene them in their Gentlemanlike suits, swagger in more proud fashion then a Spaniard: secondly, I haue obserued pride in their speeches, for they haue a kind of puryfied speech, exceeding al mens in their owne thoughts: Héere I must compare them to many of our hypocriticall professors in England, which take more care of their words, then their deedes, I haue noted them to scorne all others that seemed any way to distaste their Sect, and as I take it these are true notes of pride: for rouetousnesse they couer it with a shew of pouerty, for they alwaies professe themselues poore, protesting if they had it, no man should want it, when as indeed they will haue it though all others should want it. You shall hears the proofe of this hereafter, when I speake of their banishment out of Venice, their enuy is coloured with a shew of desire [Page 17] to make the world wise with their learning, and indeed they do grudge that any wisedome or learning breathes out of their Colledges, they hate all good workes that are not made by Iesuites, they cloake wrath with méeknesse, and in outward shew are very gentle and milde, but their hearts more feirce then Lyons: It is not vnknowne to many, what Péeres and Princes their wrath hath brought to vntimely ends, and yet these tyrants thirst in their soules for more royall bloud to quench their feirce wrath. But he is aboue that preuents their desires and destroyes their daily plots. Their sloath is hidden from the eye of any, but God and themselues, and I thinke in this sinne they haue least and most shew: for as the old prouerbe is, they are neither idle, nor well occupied, for they are euer busy but it is in the diuels seruice. And for gluttony, hee dwels in their kitchin, but you shall neuer go thither to see him. Last Lady letchery puts on this maske, no woman of what degree soeuer may enter their second parts or inward dore, but by your leaue the Iesuits enter priuately within their inward dores, and doe the deeds of darkenesse with them when they please. But this may be thought a slander, therefore giue me leaue to free my selfe from this suspicion. In Louaine there is an English Cloister of Gentlewomen, and the Lady Abbesse much respected for her hidden vertues, in which Cloyster their dwelleth a young man called Raph, which loued a waiting Gentlewoman, whose Lady often frequented the company of the Lady Abbesse, by which meanes, Raph and the maide had opportunity to conferre. It chanced one of the English Iesuits, a young man repaired thither often likewise, and in short time grew into such inward acquaintance with the maide, that Raph tooke his loue with her belly full of young bones, which afterwads confest were of the Iesuits making. Raph made his complaint to the Cloisrer, and told father Talbut one of [Page 18] their holy Family had enioyed too much homely familiarity with his wife, and made him a father before his time; protesting if they would not make him amends, hee would publish it through the whole Country. But the Iesuits agréeing amongst themselues, stopt his mouth with an hundred Angels: whereupon Raphe was content to father the Iesuits childe. Thus you sée, though they are not content a woman should enter their Cloyster, yet they themselues will vouchsafe to enter their closets. But wee will leaue to speake more of these louing labourers in the Diuels haruest, and write briefly of the Venetian villaines, which shall answere my promise in the leafe going before, to proue their cloked couetousnesse.
In this famous Cittie of Venice inhabited certaine Colledges of Iesuits, to whom all the chiese Merchants wiues went to confession, and were appointed such horrible penance, that their husbands riches, which was excéeding great, began to waste, in such sort that the Merchants began to take a seuere account of their seruants, but to small effect; till at last, one perceiued his wife to purse vp great store of gold in an euening whilest shee thought he had slept: and being ready to issue out of the the chamber doore, belike to hide it against the next confession day, her husband stept out of his bed, and stayed her, vsing these words: Stay swéet wife, I must talke with you. The amazed woman made no reply, but stood as it were in a Traunce. The Merchant hauing her in a priuate chamber, lockt the doore, and taking his naked ponyard, placing the poynt to her breast, threatned with oathes her present death, if she would not reueale the occasion of pursing vp that gold. The poore woman affrighted with these words, confest all what she knew of herselfe and others. This night past away, and on the morrow the Merchant sent for the men whose wines his wife had accused, and relating the whole story which [Page 19] she before had demonstrated, and then before them all affirmed. They all agréed to shrowd themselues in y e chamber behinde an Oras, whilst his wife by a priuate token sent for her Confessour, who presently came, asking the cause of her importuning him there. She, with many dissembling sighes, told him about a thing which much troubled her conscience. Be of good cheare (quoth he) it shall go hard but I will vnload your conscience of any sinne whatsoeuer. Therefore speake your minde. Alas (quoth she) in my sleepe I chanced to dreame of you, and in my dreame spake of the masses of gold and siluer that you haue had of me: my husband being awake, ouerheard me, and tooke hold of my words, casting it in my teeth daily. I denied it strongly. He affirmes tis truth, and vrges me to the reuealing of it, with perswasions & threatnings, so that I know not longer how to dissemble, or defend it, neither can I furnish you with any more treasure, by reason of his strict accounts, and narrow prying into my doings: therefore (holy father) most intirely I doe entreate you to resolue me in this most dangerous case what is best to be done, and I shall most willingly do my indeuour to follow your often aproued good counsell. You say well (quoth the old Foxe) and for your soules good rest constant, and confesse nothing, no though you should incurre the greatest displeasure of your husband; but rather count it a blessing that you are worthy to suffer reproofe for the Mother Church. Goe forward in your holy worke, and to bring treasure to the Church, where neither rust nor moth shall corrupt, nor théeues breake through and steale. So shall you bee blest, and receiue for your corruptible gold, an incorruptible crowne of glory. But if you faint and slacke in this good worke begun, you shall be tormented in your soule. Whereat the Merchants rushed forth, laying hold of the Iesuit, & told him they meant he should be tormented in [...] body. And drawing a ponyard the womans husband [Page 21] spake as followeth: Uillaine, either disclose thy plots in receiuing our substance, or presently prepare for Hell: for this resolued hand shall send thee past Purgatory. And bending his ponyard at the amazed Iesuits breast, the quaking slaue fell downe on his knées praying for mercy, and he would discouer all, and restore them their seuerall wealthes double. They all affirmed, you are not worth so much. Yes (queth the Iesuit) I will make a shift to keepe my word: therefore I pray you tell me on your consciences, what may the summe amount vnto that you misse. They answered, eighteene thousand pounds sterling. Peace (quoth the Priest) if you will promise me faithfully neuer to report it, you shall goe and receiue the summe double. It is enough (said the Gentlemen:) So they agreed, and marched together to the Iesuits Cloyster, where they were admitted, and a most rich banquet prouided. But the Father Superiour caused a mortall potion to be tempered for them all; and taking a beaker of Ipocras, drunke a health to them all: and powring forth the infectious wine with great curtesie, he had them all heartily welcome, affirming they should possesse the fore-written summe with expedition. The Gentleman (whether mistrusting the deceipt, or rather God was not pleased that this villany should proceed) tooke a Stone shell standing by him, and powring the poyson therein, the shell brake in peeces. Upon this sight the other Gentlemen drew to their weapons, the Iesuits likewise armed themselues: and in meane while the Gentlemen plaid the men, and got out into the streets, crying, Treason, Treason, with their weapons drawne. At length they got into the Market-place, vnto whom resorted all the States, and most sufficientest Merchants to know the cause of this clamour. So one of them got vp on the Stage, where their Comedies are acted, and vttered this spéech: Renowned States, and worthy Citizens, whom all y e world admires for polic [...] [Page 20] why will you suffer your selues to be vndermined? you your wiues and children, know this, we are all deceiued & ouer-ruled: not by the gracious directions of you the Honourable States, but by the close dissembling Iesuits; which (if it be not reformed) will bee the ruine of this most famous Citty. I speake the truth, which some of my brethren here can witnesse, and most of our wiues, by whom our wealth is transported to the Iesuits: which when we knew, they inuited vs to a banquet, affirming vs our money double; but there they sought to poyson vs: but God hath deliuered vs out of their hands to discouer their villany. Therefore worthy States, search their Cloysters, and you shall finde infinite store of treasure there. This vpon my soules safety, and liues perill, I affirme it for truth.
Upon this report, the States taking these Merchants along with them, repaired where all was at full related. Whereupon, the Duke assisting the States, they were all banished the Citie, hauing nothing allowd them but their Bookes and Habits. After their departure, their Colledges were searched, wherein was found infinite treasure. And by a publique proclamation of the Duke and States, the Merchants were summoned to the Colledge, where (vpon their oathes) euery man seized on his owne, and the ouer-plus, that no man challenged, came to the Duke and States, to the value of fiue hundred millions, besides plate and vestures: yet these dissemblers profest themselues poore.
Thus were these Iesuits banisht from Venice, which displeased the Popes holynesse not a little; neuerthelesse these stragglers were by their false fellowes presently planted and inriched. These Iesuits are much like the Iewes, for let them come where they will, they thriue by their place. Nay that which is more, let them be now in extreame pouerty, yet with one yeares dealing they will grow exceeding rich, that other men shall smart for their [Page 22] prosperity, I thinke this point of knanery hath set his cap on the one side and discouered halfe his head, but this plot following shall quite disfurnish him of his cap, I pray you note it, for it is the fulfilling of a promise that I made, when I spake of the Pilgrimage at Mastricke, concerning the drouth of this years, and so I meane to conclude my little volume, with that most abhominable villany
In Mastricke, as I said before, there is a frequented Pilgrimage, to Saint Sceruias. You know this yeare there was an exceeding drought. It was my chance to be there at y e present, (therefore I will report but what I haue seene) And many a hundred came in blind deuotion and offered guifts to y e Saint in hope of raine: notwithstanding the drouth continued. The Iesuits of y e City being loath to let so faire and profitable a game slip without chase, let loose their dogs, which fastned on this fashion. One of their smothest tongues, annointed with the Diuels oile, steps vp into the Pulpit, and vtters his Sermon to the people in this sort. This drouth (quoth he) is sent from heauen to plague the earth for y e peoples vnthankfulnesse and neglecting of their duties. Heere (quoth he) you bring offerings to this blessed Saint, but it is presented w t vnhallowed hands, & polluted hearts, therfore to preuent the Lords wrath, and the Saints fury, bring your gifts to vs, & our holy Society will consecrate them, and with pure hearts and vnspotted hands offer them vp to this most holy Saint, who no doubt but will be pleased in loue to accept them. Moreouer (quoth he) your gifts are defiled with couetousnesse, but Beloued you must bring it willingly, and according to your ability; & then no doubt but heauens drops will quench the thirsty earth. This was y e marke he aimed at in his Sermon, which as the Diuell would haue it tooke effect, and profited y e Iesuits very much. For after this al offerings were first brought to them, which they first vnder [Page] shew of sanctification stole the most and best part away, the Cannons in Saint Sceruias Church got the rest, but the Picture and the Pilgrimes were both cheated. After along time of drouth it pleased God to send raine; then they sent plackets out to warne the country to a thanks offering, where after Masse a Sermon was made in honour of this worshipfull image, afterwards they were let into a secret wide roome, adioyning to the Church, where his Portrature stands, raised in liuely coulours, two Priests kept the dore, and euery man gaue his deuotion to see their tragicall shew. It appeared much like our stage-players, but onely they wanted a foole in the shew. Yet y e two Foxes made géese of all them y • came to behold it: thus their monstrous abuses are made manifest. For what will not these men deale in for gaine, that set price of the weather.
So farre hath truth ventured to vncap the Iesuits, y e all may plainely discerne a bare-headed cunning knaue. I would wish all my friends and countrimen to take heed of their company, for their Society is dangerous, & their snares & baits are many; their religion was brought in by Ignatius, but it shall go out with eternall ignomy, when the Almighty is pleased either to conuert, or vtterly roote them out. I could prosecute their polliticke close plots further, and shew the manner of their hellish Inquisition, cōmon, & priuate Counsels, their Libraries, and confessions, but so much hath bene heeretofore written, therefore I will not enter into their works. Let him y t sowes reape, and those that plant eate of their owne fruite. As for this I protest it was mine owne obseruation, which I haue willingly set forth, for the good of my louing countrimen.
To speake of one generall point briefly, I hope shall neither tyer me nor weary you. I pray you obserue it. In the Empire of Christendome for one Protestant there are tenne Papists, and it were [...] to [Page 24] thinke there are no well conditioned people amongst thē, this I dare affirme vpon my conscience, that without doubt there are many godly men and woemen, truly deuout & zealous, y e would willingly come to sée the cléere shining light of truth, but these men of darkenes stand betwéene them & the light, & barre the truth from them. But for the Iesuits, thus I censure them generally vpon my conscience, that of a hundreth there are scarce two iust dealing men. For breach of oathes they call equiuocation, & all their villanies they can dispense with. But alas their ending illusions without Gods mercy, will turne to their endlesse confusions, where they shall curse their tutor the Deuill, for instructing them in these and many more their deceitfull and pollitick [...]. Let vs giue thanks to him y • suffers none [...] wolues to deuoure his chosen Flock heere in [...]. And lastly you iocond Iesuits, that strut it out in your dissembling holy habits, look to it, I haue onely discouered your bald crownes, but I feare me, if you come masking here into England in your former and accustomed disguises, the excutioner will rip vp your bloudy breasts, and discouer your treacherous hearts, And then the Popes Bull will reare at T [...]orne. Till then Farewell.