University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A Covent of Jacobines.
Enter Commolet, Burgoin.
Burg.
The Sorbon with grave Judgement and Advice,
Have by a Publick Act asserted this:
Since Valois does with Hereticks agree,
Abets and sides with 'em, all Frenchmen be
Fro'th' Oath of Fealty and Allegiance free.

Com.
Are all hands crampt? and all Souls palsi'd to;
Past sense of what we suffer? Surely no.
Can the dull Dutchmen make an Orenge bleed?
And th' fiery French tremble at such a deed?
In vain we from their Armies seek supply;
Rather than fail we will our Covents try.

Burg.
One of my Covent (but yet taught by me
What glorious Crowns are their rewards, that free
Their Country and the Church from tyranny;)
A glorious Project did to me reveal,
Inspir'd (no doubt) with a fierce heavenly zeal.

Com.
Have you confirm'd his thoughts?

Bur.
His zeal's so bold
That all those Mountains, that go big with gold,
Could not his resolution now seduce.

Com.
Yet for all that let's keep him to the use:
Young men, we know, their Passions fall and rise,
As th'object is presented to their Eys.
Those two grand Scenes of horrour and of blisse,
(Which help to mould the souls of Novices)
Let us present unto his wondring view.

Bur.
They both are ready here and painted new.
Enter Jacob Clement.
Welcome my Son.

Clem.
I wait here with intent
To beg your blessings and incouragement.

Bur.
My Son! that blessing freely claim thy own,
Which Father Isaac gave his youngest son.
Thou shalt escape; trust son, to my presage;
And Prophesies 'tis known have blest my age.
Ha! son! what say'st thou to the glorious Fact?

Clem.
But shall I merit Heaven by the Act?

Burg.
Thou know'st a Doctrine I have often spoke,
How curious Pictures give a smarter stroak
Upon our fancies, then dull Doctrines can;
These touch the outward, those the inward man,
Behold, my Son, (what thou hast often heard)
An Antipast of joys and of reward.

Shows a Scene of Paradice.
Clem.
Who would not hazards tempt and torture dare,
To merit but the least of glories there?

Com.
What heav'nly flames his rosie Cheeks reveal?
Flusht in the face with inward heat of zeal!
I see thou art resolv'd! I plainly see't;
Thy Stature's taller, and thy Mein more great.
Thus when the Deities did Priests inspire,
They both exalted Soul and Body high'r.
If thou this glorious attempt survive,
(And Heav'n will sure make its own bus'ness thrive)
Abbots and Bishops at thy feet must fall,
As is but due unto a Cardinal.
But if thou dy'st, no Cherubim can come
Near to that Throne, design'd for Martyrdome.
Roses and Lawrels then must twist in one
T'adorn thy brow; both glories thou maist own
Of Militant and of Triumphant Crown.

Clem.
O let me go, each tedious minute's stay
Robs me of glory, just in Heav'ns high-way!

Com.
Thy soul is fervent now, my hopeful Son!
Red-hot with zeal, fit for impression:
But if it cool, 'twill get a stubborn frame,
Not fit for any Furnace but Hells flame.

Clem.
The terrour of those flames cannot prevail,
Where all those bright alluring glories fail.

Burg.
I'l soon convince thee, and will now disclose
Here to thy sight a horrid Scene of Woes.

Scene of Hell.
Clem.
Cold drops of sweat condens'd by my sad fears,
Like Isicles, hang on my brows and hairs!

Com.
O! Son imagine but a Bed of Fire;
The Curtains flames; the Bed-cords burning Wire;
If thou wert bound unto this Bed all day,
And Fiends with red-hot Pinchers pluck away
Thy nervous parts; yet to renew thy pain,
With boyling Sulphur, glew 'em on again;
Thou'lt say this is intollerable! But oh!
What horrour to Eternities of woe?

Clem.
O, Sir, forbear! My soul away does faint!
Your sad description has out done the paint.
Rather then hazard an eternal pain,
I will my purpose in short time obtain;
—Tho for a thousand thousand years
I live in torments and cannot be slain.