Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
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A59312
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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 ...
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Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724.
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1680
(1680)
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Wing S2684; ESTC R32649
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43,452
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109
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design'd to fright our ancient Foe The warlike Vandal Rhemes That was the pretence But Romes Subversion and Religion's Ruine Was the Design Card. 4. And my good Lord of Rhemes 'T was in prevention of a dangerous Heresie And to revenge our injured Church you gave The Duke this poyson Rhemes Yes my Lord I did But oh it grieved my Soul to kill my Prince My Friend my Patron nay my generous Patron But in a cause so just for Romes bright Glory Our Mother Churches Right I 'd not have spared a Brother Father Friend Soveraign in a cause so good Kingdoms should groan and Monarch's set in Blood Card. 1. Come to our Arms Card. 2. T' our Arms dear Lord of Rhemes Hugging him Card. 3. Religions Bulwark Card. 4. Truth 's Defender welcome Card. 1. Romes Patriot and Heaven's Champion ever welcome Bright Son of Fame we and our Saints are all Your Debtors for this meritorious Service Sax. Is this your Doom Churchmen you call your selves Is this a Church Reward for murder'd Majesty Oh I could rave but Lords I 'll reason calmly Grant those false Libellers and this poysoner honest Yes grant my Father that lewd thing they paint him Nay more suppose th' Almighty Rome has power To judge a King and doom a Soveraign Head Card. 1. Suppose it Saxon Sax. Yes suppose it Priest Were he a Criminal why were not all Those intercepted Letters sent to Rome And he as an Offender fairly tried Call'd to the Bar to Romes King-killing Bar And his Accusers met him face to face Rhemes T' have waged in publick ' gainst so great an Adversary Had been t' have had our Cause and martyr'd Throats Both silenced Treason hush'd Truth undiscovered And Rome for ever unrevenged Card. 1. How German A private man impeach an Heretick King Call him to Law and face to face convict him Does the weak Traveller face the roaring Lion Or spotted Leopard and grapple Arm to Arm No foolish Prince Does he not straight fly to some hollow Cave Or climb some Cedars Top from whose safe stand Does he not watch a lucky hour and shoot Th' unwary Savage dead or in a Foyl The snared Devourer seize and Sir Are Heretick Kings less Brutes less Savages Than Lions Tygers Leopards or less To be destroyed than they or must Rome kill By open hostile Arms The Churches strength Lies not in Spear or Launce or ponderous Steel A Pebble slung from out a righteous hand May strike a Giant dead Sax. How Roman Prelates Are these your Principles Some pitying Saint keep in my boiling rage And wall me round with Adamant Church Hypocrites false Bastard Prophets hear me Card. 1. Take him away and stop the Railer's Mouth Card. 2. No let him stay and hear the voice of Rome Card. 1. Is it by me you speak All Card. Speak Lord of Millain Card. 1. First our whole Consistory votes her Thanks To this illustrious Lord. Next as a monument T'an Hereticks infamy if the Boul that held The sacred Drug can be by art or Gold Recovered we decree that it be consecrated As an Eternal Relick to the Chappel at Loretto Lastly that the sleeping Bones Of the dead Saxon Heretick unworthy To mix with the untainted Royal Dust Of his great Ancestors be taken up Removed and buryed in unhallow'd Ground Sax. Disturb my Father's Dust what Cerberus Dog amongst ye Dares growl a sound so impious Ye Cardinal Wolves tear up his Royal Bones Do if you dare keep your Prerogative To hector Kingdoms and to hag-ride Kings But know We are too great and Saxony too honest That Blood-hound Priest that Jackall Monk that dares With his invenom'd Claws but touch his Tomb By all the Conclave Devils and the Ghost Of my dead Father dies upon a Gibbet Card. 2. And are we threatned too By the Divinity Of Rome bold Arrogance thy forfeit Head But thrust him out and shut our Gates against him The Scene shuts upon him and the Consistory closes Sax. Farewel ye Scarlet Blood-hounds Are these the Lords that yoke the Necks of Kings How sensless is that dull Imperial Head That makes his Scepter to the Crosier bow By Heavens he 's both a Coward and a Slave Romes upstart Idol 'bove his Throne he rears And servilely creates the God he fears Down goes his Majesty and down his Fame Pope is the King and Monarch but the name Exit Finis Actus Primi ACT II. Saxony and Angeline Sax. OH Rome thou once great Mistress of the World How much thy ancient Royal Capitol Exceeds th' adulterate Vatican when Pagans And Infidels possess'd thee they were honest The blind Idolaters that kneel'd and prayed To their deaf sensless Molten Gods were Saints To this Church Spawn this Nest of Scarlet Tyrants Ang. Indeed my Lord this strange inverted Justice Is very hard but bear it like a man Sax. Yes when I am treated like a man but Princes Are less than Dogs where base-born Priests controul I and my Cause with all my loud tongued Wrongs Spurn'd from their presence and my Father's Blood Of that small value that the Purple Juice That fills the pamper'd Prelates Epicurean Gorge Is spilt with more Concern than the Blood of Princes Ang. Calm your untimely rage when Ills are past Redressing and all other hope forsakes us Patience is then the wise man's last companion Sax. Patient oh never till Romes Consistory And Justice fill one Throne and that must be When contraries unite When Truth and Falshood Incorporate Suppose my Princely Father Had been an Heretick but if my Soul Dares play the Prophet 't was some private malice That gave the Tragick Blow and this pretended Heresie Some false Machine that moved the specious Scene But grant it true why was he not accused Summon'd and call'd before th'all judging Rome And doom'd by Law if Rome can judge a King Had he been weighed in Justice equal Ballance And found too light than to have hoist The mounting Scale and tript him up to Heaven Had been a doom Worthy the Glory of the Tripple Diadem But to be kill'd by a Poysoner and a Traitor And lesses crimes by greater crimes be punish'd Yes the whole Conclave hug him for the fact Come to our Arms t' our Arms dear Lord of Rhemes We and our Saints are all your Debtors Ang. Enough my Lord Sax. Yet what confounds all humane sense to think The Papal Crown 's fix'd on this Monster 's Brow Nay rais'd too by the merit of a Poysoner My Father's blood advanced him to the Popedom Crown'd him Heaven's Vicar for Hells blackest Murder Ang. Yet hold my Lord. Sax. With these damn'd Principles a begging Friar Shall stab a King a lowzy tatter'd Monk Be a Monarch's Judge and Executioner Is this the Justice of th' Imperial Mitre Covents and Cloysters thus are Romes Tribunals Daggers and Poysons are their Axe and Fasces Pallaces their Scaffolds and the Priestly Robe The Hangman's Livery Enter Lorenzo Priests and Officers Lor. Seize him They seize him·
All other lesser Crimes Rome can forgive As Whoredoms Thefts Rapes Murders alas They are petty venial sins Does not the Bawd Keep open shop in Rome pays but her yearly Toll To 's Holiness's sacred Treasury And takes a License for the Trade she holds The bloudy Murderer runs but to a Church And 't is his Sanctuary the Gates flie open While the generous Priest like his kind Guardian Saint Views the fresh Scarlet on the Cut-throats face And hugs his darling Brother But poor Heresie That mortal capital unpardonable crying sin Must never be forgotten Rome's Jayls and Dungeons Wheels Wracks Stakes Gibbets are for Hereticks made 2 Her Now by my starving Veins and aking Bones How faithfully thou play'st the Painter 1 Her What think'st thou of a Pope 2 Her Why he 's a Horse-leech Without a tail the Bloud he sucks runs through him He sucks and sucks but never fills But Heav'ns What was the Crime that brought me to this place 'T is true I heard a Priest most vilely cant And tell me how by Miracle A certain Roman Martyr bore his head Under his arm three miles And ' cause I could not Believe him but provoked with the rank nauseous fable In a most honest hearty bluntness told him The pious Legend lyed For that that onely Crime I am condemn'd untryed to endless Chains And Torments doom'd ne'er to see light agen 1 Her Not to see light agen But how if I proposed A means for an Escape 2 Her For an Escape 1 Her But 't is with wondrous hazard infinite danger 2 Her Danger no matter Bring me to a Lottery But with one Chance for Liberty Tho to ten Blanks and every one for death I 'd thrust my hand into the fatal Pile As cheerfully as Misers grasp their Gold 1 Her Know then by a Conspiracy betwixt Some of our fellow-sufferers this night This dead dark hour the Prison's to be fired 2 Her Most excellent 1 Her And by this happy Plot 'T is possible some of us may escape At worst we can but burn and better end A life at once than to lie here immured Preserved for Wracks and kept an Age in dying Bernardo look yon dauning streaks of light Tell us the happy Train has taken fire 2 Her Let us retire and wait the blessed minute Shine out bright Sun of comfort either save Our wretched lives or light us to a grave Exeunt The third Scene is the Duke of Saxony 's Bed-chamber within the Prison Enter Saxony in his Night-gown as newly risen from Bed Sax. Good Heav'n what misty damp disturbs my sleep Sulphur and Pitch What poysonous smoaky stench Offends my aking Eyes Within Fire fire fire Sax. Horrour and Death the place is all on fire Awake my Angeline look up and see Danger and Death surround us Within Fire fire fire Pope Starting out of bed Hell and Perdition what misfortune 's here Sax. By Heav'ns we are almost circled in with flames And the doors lockt fast barr'd Knocking to get out Jaylours Priests Torturers Open the door make haste or we shall perish Within From several voices 1. Fire 2. Plots and Treason 3. Bar the Gates secure The Prisoners let 'em burn rather than flie Sax. The Flames increase and we are pent in with Ruine Unlock the door deaf harden'd Devils hear us Knocking Open the door make haste or else we die Within Die and be damn'd 2. Fire Water Sax. Oh my dear Angeline we are betray'd A strange prophetick horrour tells my Soul That we are mew'd up for sacrifice The Ghost of the old Duke of Saxony rises with a burning Taper in his hand Look look Here the Ghost with his Taper touches a train of fire above him which immediately writes upon the Wall in Capital letters in a bloudy fire the word MURDER which continues burning some time My Angeline my Royal Father's Ghost See Murder Murder Oh the voice of Bloud Stay stay thou Royal Harbinger of Fate The Ghost sinks Oh Angeline the hand of Heaven 's against us Pope Adored dear Devil save me but this once aside kneels Sax. That murder'd sleeping Shade wakes from Deaths arms To call us to his own untimely Grave Now Pope thou and thy black Colleagues of Hell Compleat their impious Vengeance Pope By all that 's damn'd I am lost This Messenger Of Hell was sent for me Cut off thus early Oh the senseless Devil Thus to play Booty ' gainst himself Aside Mistaken dull infernal fools I have not yet Sate long enough on Rome's Imperial Throne To do you half the service of a Pope Sax. Witness good Heav'n for my own life I fear not But thy hard fate torments my bleeding Soul If we must burn thus arm in arm we 'll die Embracing Speak to thy Love why speaks not my dear Angeline There needs no silence in our Kisses now Pope Ruin'd betray'd undone If I but speak He 'll find my Screech-owl's voice and if he sees me He 'll know my fatal face and tear my throat out Speak or not speak I burn if there be God's Aside Curse on your blazing Thrones No Ditch-born Hag Was ever doom'd to such a fate as I am By Hell I scorch already Fire and Aetna Traytors Priests Monsters Here open the door Knocking Sax. Ha! Pope Now could I part with all my Keys of Heav'n But for one Picklock to these Iron-bars aside Make haste ye tardy Dogs here 's Gold to pay you Still deaf ye slaves a Jewel worth a Kingdom To bribe you for a Key Sax. Ravens and Vultures Pope I cannot dare not burn Dull drowsie Villains Sax. What art thou speak infernal Fiend what art thou seizing her Speak Succubus what Gibbet hast thou robb'd For that loath'd form to stain my sacred Bed And damn my cheated Soul Pope Inquire no farther I will not speak Sax. Speak or I will tear thy Soul out Pope Save your own Flie or we burn Enter Priests and Lights Sax. By Heav'ns the very form Of my dead Father's Poysoner 1 Priest What 's here 2 Priest A Whore 3 Priest A Whore Sax. Oh Gentlemen secure that Hag that Sorceress The very Witch that light this Fatal Fire And brought the Brand from her own Hell to kindle it 4 Priest The Lady I had three hundred Crowns to Bawd for And her Protection may be worth three thousand 1 Priest Take her and burn the Witch Pope O save me save me 4 Priest Hold Brothers let me answer for this Lady She is my Mistriss and my Charge and with My Bloud I 'll justifie her Innocence Pope Good pious honest tender-hearted Father This Diamond speak my thanks Gives him a Ring 1 Priest A Bona Roba 2 Priest One of our Brothers friends nay then all 's well 3 Priest An honest Girl of yours that name protects her Sax. Protect her how protect the greatest Traytress That ere disgraced a Jayl or shamed a Gibbet Secure her seize her 4 Priest Stop that mad mans mouth I 'll stake my life to