A Disputation betwixt the DEVILL And the POPE.
Being a briefe Dialogue between Ʋrbanus, 5. Pope of Rome, and Pluto Prince of Hell.
Concerning the Estate of five Kingdomes, Spaine, England, France, Ireland. and Scotland
Written by the Author to content his Friend, being Pleasant and delightfull to the READER.
LONDON, Printed, 1642.
The Devill and the Pope.
THE Pope whose papall Power all Roome controwles
Wanting more wealth (purchaz'd at price of Soules)
Fearing the People in each severall Region
Contemne his Masse, and follow true Religion
Growes much distempered; Sicknes doth weigh downe
His holy head, more then his Triple Crowne
'Cause a report of late is newly risen
Some of his Tribe in England are in Prison
And many more which did this Land deflower
Are fled and banish'd by the Almighties Power
Griveing his socerie no more bewitches
By spells he raiseth Pluto (God of Ritches)
Well may the People be in mickle danger
When Roomes great Vicar doth begin to conjure
But now the divell's rai'd the Pope requires
New councell from the God of quenchlesse fires
It rises like a Fryar, with a hood on't
To shreive the Pope, the Devill give him good on't
If their discourse can your attention winne
Lend us your eare and heare the Devill begin.
Devill.
Hayle to your Holinesse what is't offends.
Your King-commanding Power? are your vow'd friends
Turn'd Traytors to your Crowne, doth France deny
To pay your Annuall tribute? straite I'le fly
[Page]With Troopes of factious Spirits, such as shall
Con [...]ert the Rebels; or confound them all:
If it be Spaine Perplexeth you, Ile straite
With a worse Plague then that in 88.
Vex my ambitious Don torment him more
Then did the Dutch man, on the English shore;
After much warre, deepe wounds and many knocks
Ile give his Country to the Butter box.
Pope.
Great Pluto (Partner in my See of Rome)
'Tis not for these my skill calls thee to come
Not many dayes (before this time) hath past
Since by my potent charmes I raysd thee last
And bid thee muster spirits (such as are
Powerfull in sowing of a civill warre)
To send them into Ireland to possesse
The Catholicks with their owne wretchednesse
How many yeares in thraldome they did pant
Vnder the Scepter of the Protestant,
And that by raysing factions they shall see
Their peace agen and former Liberty
Devill.
This we have done my chiefest Spirit error
The Prince of faction hath rays'd up such terror
In Irish hearts that rather then they'le yeeld
They'le wash with human bloud the fertill field
And through the generall Kingdome there are none
But cry or else have cause to cry O hone.
Their onset did beginn tragick and black
The English Protestant went first to wrack.
Women they killd, young infants they did smother
As if each man forgot he had a mother.
[Page]Brave worke for me, for though I prompt them to it
They had almost as good be dambd as do it
Pope.
But in these Spoyles shan't I a sharer bee.
Devill.
Oh yes my Lord when you are damnd like me
But whilst this fleshy substance thus controwles
Your Spirit, you can have no share in soules
But when the happy time comes you shall dye
Thou shalt be made as great a devill as I
Pope.
Thy happy promises doe much restore me
For which I'le send as many soules before me
As shall enrich thy Kindome but goe on
Vpon thy Irish Declaration
I long to hear't.
Devill.
You shall, the Irish first
Were Conquerors but now they have the worst
The valliant English now the victors be
And chase the bloudy Irish Crom a Cree
From bogg to bogg at every turne they winde them
and fly as if the Devill were behind them
The amazing missery doth so besot them
They are affraid S. Patrick hath forgot them
The God the English serve doth so distract them
Their Beads nor holy water can't protect them
that now the Proverb ends as it began
'tis thought a fart will fright an Irish man
Pope.
This is distastefull newes but canst thou tell
What factious Spirits doe in England dwell.
[Page]Devill.
Few of your Party they are gone as wide
As most report and mad on tother side
There all your Bookes and Beads are counted toyes
Altars and Tapers are pulld downe by boyes
Discord they say doth so possesse the Land
'Tis thought they will not let the Organs stand
The cleane wash't Surples which our Priests put on
There is the smock ot'h Whore of Babilon
And I have had report by those have seene them
They breake the windowes cause the Saints are in them
There Pope you must expect a certaine losse
A Taylor must not sit with leggs on crosse
But strait hee's set by'th heeles, (it is a signe
Of Ceremony only not Divine)
The great grand Bishop there your Popeships cozen
Is in the Tower, thers 13. to the dozen
I wonder by what Spirit they are led
They sent a man to me without a head
The tother day but therein they did well
For were it on 'tis thought 'twould trouble Hell
Cum Privilegio's out of date, they cry
In every streete what new Booke will you buy
Come buy a booke oth Bishop of Canterbury
And with his missery they make them merry
Miters are banish't, and some hope to see
4. Corner'd Caps will now be brought to 3.
Pope.
Prethe no more this newes doth quite distract me
And I shall sowne unlesse thy helpe protect me
There is no hope that Nation is farr gone
Whom neither Pope nor Devill can worke upon.
Devill.
They are distracted? to) brother gainst Brother,
Friend against Friend one Neighbour against another
But this will not last long; they are happy men
And soone tis thought will settle Peace agen
Pope.
Why then let's give them over let us save
Free from their Power those Catholicks we have
There is no hopes in Scotland, there they be
Confirm'd too sure in a fraternity
Therefore at this time leave me.
Pluto.
Pope farewell.
Pope.
I to my Chamber goe.
Pluto.
And I to Hell.
Y'haue heard their disputation and may see
How much to us the Pope's an Enemie
The Devill to; tis likely that we shall
Be happy if wee seeke not our owne fall:
The World doth know we live in dangerous times
Let every good man then purge his owne crimes
For my owne part I wish a generall Health
To our most gracious King and Common-wealth
If each true Protestant wish thus I hope
They'le shunne the Devill as they slight the Pope.
FINIS.