Read and Wonder A vvarre between two entire Friends, The Pope and the Divell. With His Holinesse VVill made before his Death in the Field. Also, His Divelships Triumph at the Conquest, Dispatching his Troopes for the west [by George Wither] |
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A WARRE BE WEENE TWO INTIRE FRIENDS.
Enter Pope and Heresie.Pope
Goe summon up my Captaines, let them know,
A day's appointed for the field, and we
Must bravely looke th'enemy i'th face,
Bid Crosse and Crucifix prepare themselves,
Summon up Holy water and our beads,
Call Canterbury with his lofty sect,
Weele fright the Divell and his hellish crew.
Heresie.
Ah Sir, the tyde is turn'd, for you may see
How all your forces hang their heads, and feare;
Brave Canterburies cag'd, others are fled,
Our Holy water now is of no force,
The Crucifix is spurnd, your beads despis'd,
And all your forces are disperst and gone;
Now hearke hells drums doth strike a parley, tell,
Will you obey, or stand it out with hell?
Pope.
Though I shall perish, I will fight and try,
Ile shew in my revenge that I'me noble,
My vertuous anger can't vanish soone,
Each veine receives an arteries strong force,
I feele in me the strength of twenty men;
And being armed with so good a cause,
Ile dye, or force him to obey our lawes.
Her.
And see they come.
They're welcome by my Crowne.
Enter the Divell, with him Pride, Lust, Coveteousnesse, Treachery, Idolatry, Envy, Idlenesse.
Div.
Bold triple crowned King, who dar'st incense
Our all-devouring sword against thy selfe,
Know that the least power we use to bring,
Abroad in glittering helmets, are full able
To paunch thy Kingdome, and thy subjects all;
And if that we doe but once put to sea,
And stand the raging of the boisterous windes,
If we once passe upon the foaming waves,
The windes are husht, and mountaine waves prove dales,
Nor can the thunder of your harmelesse shot
Endanger me or mine, I'me still the same:
You come attended on by charity,
You put much trust too to your conscience.
Indeed these things may keepe a Church man warme,
But never doe the Divell any harme,
The hungry mouths of famisht beggars may
Sucke some relieve from't, but as I can see,
You'ave only got the rags of charity.
Now will we wallow on the full fraught shore,
Of sensuall pleasures, thy champions
For feare of me, already run away,
But I shall meet at last with those base slaves,
And make them come to hell to seeke their graves.
Pope.
I've heard thy words, & view'd thy land, & see
I and my slaves are too too weake for thee;
When I had friends in England I could brag
My selfe an enemy to all the world,
I, and performe it too, but there my name
Is held in great derision, each child
O how my joyes are vanisht here of late.
My head ere now hath had so many hornes,
That I could fright the greatest forrest Bore;
But now I fall, and to my great disgrace,
I can't uphold Saint Peters tumbling seat.
'Tis truth and equity doth pricke me most,
Most of our Sectaries vow and protest
They nere shall laugh untill they see my fall,
I have offended, and the worst, to dye,
Will put a period to calamity.
What should I feare? my fortune's sunk so low,
Nothing can fall upon me I will shun;
Now Mr. Divell are my sands quite run,
The Epilogue is spoke, the play is done,
Heare the recitall of what I shall give,
My heart is broke, I have no hopes to live.
The Popes Will.
I give my soule unto your selfe, my trunkeThe earth doth chalenge, and let her enjoy it,
But pray intreat my soule well, let it have
A place in Purgatory, let her paines
Be somewhat eased by your lenity,
Saint Peters seat, which was my earthly throne,
Let Heresie enjoy, my tripple Crowne
I give to Englands Canterbury, if
He can but step to Rome and fetch it thence.
My chiefest Cardinall is dead, and Pride
Shall succeed him: to Lust I give those drabs
Which I in secret kept whilst there I raign'd;
My coffers are well stuft, Covetousnesse,
Enjoy my wealth when I am dead and gone,
And make him the Deputy of Ireland,
If that be fill'd when little WILL shall dye,
His Bishopricke will fatten thee, or else
Thou canst not want preferment, many have
Left their places, faith, and all are fled,
Idolatry can live by Organs, and by Crosses,
Beads, Crucifixes, and our Holy water,
If she may bend and crowch sheele never breake,
O types and figures, ceremonies old
Will fatten her, and make her fat and faire,
Let her to Rome, no place for her more fit,
For sure sheele perish if she flye from thence.
Envy I charge thee goe enflame our Priests
Against that little Iland in the West,
Provoke them to mischiefe. O some Powder plot,
That could devoure these gaping Heretickes,
O it would make me chackle in my grave:
Then venture over to my son of Spaine,
Wish him revenge my death, for 'tis meere care
Hath forc't me to my grave before my time;
O an Armado now all things are quiet,
Would pickle Heretickes for the Divells diet.
To Idlenesse I give a pars'nage fat,
With such revenewes that shall choake his chests,
For such as he are only fit for them,
Those that doe preach too much doe load the mindes
Of the poore laity, which doth cause despaire,
Give me a man preach once in seven yeares,
And then scarce speake untill the sands are run;
Those that doe bubble till one houre be gone,
And halfe another, [illeg.], they like not me.
But Idlenesse I pray now understand,
Pray most devoutly, for I must confesse,
Prayer doth edifie more then preaching.
Now with my blessing to my sonne of Spaine,
Together with my loving sonne of France,
I close my eyes, and bid the world adiew;
And though in this Scene you doe see me fall,
Ile rise a Martyr, that's my end, my all.
Div.
And farewell faith, I laugh to see how I
Enlarge my Kingdome: this jolt-headed Pope,
Would not have gone to heaven by no meanes,
His journey's Purgatory, but I thinke
Hee'l finde a hell in our purgatory.
He is the second; come draw your forces on,
Arminians all: for I must be your doome.
Enlarge my Kingdome: this jolt-headed Pope,
Would not have gone to heaven by no meanes,
His journey's Purgatory, but I thinke
Hee'l finde a hell in our purgatory.
He is the second; come draw your forces on,
Arminians all: for I must be your doome.
If I can but steere off the ship of some Englishmen
I have been lately acquainted with, from the land of
repentance, then in good faith I will not say, Hey der-
ry downe to be 1000. strong before midlent yet.
But goe my boyes, each spread his sails abroad,
And bring in trafficke unto me your Lord.
Nothing can pen you, since your ship's your sand,
As hereto fore it was, your courage to
The same or rather more.
The fertilst earth returnes the husbandman
No more then three crops in one circled yeare;
But sure before the glorious glittering Sunne
Hath posted through the Zodiacke, I shall see
You swell with trafficke, like a tympanie,
Each moneth, nay sure each day will yeeld
A crop to men from forth the Westerne field.
O give me comfort of your good event,
By hearing each mans parting complement.
I have been lately acquainted with, from the land of
repentance, then in good faith I will not say, Hey der-
ry downe to be 1000. strong before midlent yet.
But goe my boyes, each spread his sails abroad,
And bring in trafficke unto me your Lord.
Nothing can pen you, since your ship's your sand,
As hereto fore it was, your courage to
The same or rather more.
The fertilst earth returnes the husbandman
No more then three crops in one circled yeare;
But sure before the glorious glittering Sunne
Hath posted through the Zodiacke, I shall see
You swell with trafficke, like a tympanie,
Each moneth, nay sure each day will yeeld
A crop to men from forth the Westerne field.
O give me comfort of your good event,
By hearing each mans parting complement.
With Peacocks wings as swift as aire I flye,
To Peters seat, 'twas the Popes legacie.
There Ile inveigle all, both rich and poore,
For to be proud, and to maintaine a Whoore.
And when their soules are drenched in sinnes flood,
Ile leave them groping in perditions mud:
Ile teach them all to climb a rotten wall,
When they are up, Ile teach it how to fall,
Thus shall they die, unlesse my thoughts strike wrong,
Death is the burden of their fatall song.
And now with Eagles wings Ile post t'expresse,
My love to you ev'n by my nimblenesse.
Next peeps forth Lust, his night-cap on his head,
A signe both night and day hee keeps his bed,
He spewed forth such bawdy lines, that he
Deserv'd in faith to stand i'th pillory.
And there he vowed to infect the land,
And bring whole thousands to his masters hand.
A Congie made, base bawdy Lust slips in,
And then comes Covetousnesse as foule a sinne.
He bore at's girdle Bonds and Bils, there he
Presents a Bead-roll of his villany;
He kept his bagges about him: for his feare
His gold would sure be eate by some Bug-beare.
But now comes out the Captaine of this crew,
Div'lish malicious, though they are but few,
He shew'd the Divell what he had done already,
How he had made our English men so heady,
That faith they did rebell, and he would be
A servant would undoe their pedigree.
So with a smile threw in the Divels face,
Treachery departs, Idolatry's in's place.
She with a smiling grace thus 'gan to say:
But I have done such service as befits,
Those that are call'd great Pluto's Parasits.
The Westerne Ile hath cring'd at my command,
And bowd to stockes and stones to kisse my hand.
This I have done, but Ile doe ten times more
Before I leave the fertile English shore.
Then enters Envy, blustring forth a breath,
Would poyson any mortall underneath:
He spewd' forth what he meant, made Pluto laugh
To see how Envy healths of blood did quaffe.
But last of all, comes Idlenesse in blacke,
He look't ev'n like a Long-lane what d'ye lacke?
He promis'd Pluto t'keep black Coats asleep,
Till want of preaching made the Laity weep.
Then Pluto rose and thank't them all; and then,
He wisht them hie to his unhallowed Den.
And then by turnes, let each man range as will,
Damne all the world, then I shall laugh my fill.
Come on my Fiends, and let the world know it,
Brave Englands vice deserves a biting Poet.
FINIS.
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