Is an ill-wilier to human nature.  Of all proverbs he cannot endure to hear that which says, We ought to live by the quick, not by the dead.  He could willingly all his lifetime be confined to the churchyard; at least, within five foot on’t, for at every church stile commonly there’s an alehouse, where, let him be found never so idle-pated, he is still a grave drunkard.  He breaks his fast heartiest while he is making a grave, and says the opening of the ground makes him hungry.  Though one would take him to be a sloven, yet he loves clean linen extremely, and for that reason takes an order that fine Holland sheets be not made worms’-meat.  Like a nation called the Cusani, he weeps when any are born and laughs when they die; the reason, he gets by burials not christenings.  He will hold an argument in a tavern over sack till the dial and himself be both at a stand; he never observes any time but sermon-time, and there he sleeps by the hour-glass.  The ropemaker pays him a pension, and he pays tribute to the physician; for the physician makes work for the sexton, as the ropemaker for the hangman.  Lastly, he wishes the dog-days would last all year long; and a great plague is his year of jubilee.

A JESUIT

Is a larger spoon for a traitor to feed with the devil than any other order; unclasp him, and he’s a grey wolf with a golden star in the forehead; so superstitiously he follows the pope that he forsakes Christ in not giving Caesar his due.  His vows seem heavenly, but in meddling with state business he seems to mix heaven and earth together.  His best elements are confession and penance:  by the first he finds out men’s inclinations, and by the latter heaps wealth to his seminary.  He sprang from Ignatius Loyola, a Spanish soldier; and though he were found out long since the invention of the cannon, ’tis thought he hath not done less mischief.  He is a half-key to open princes’ cabinets and pry in their councils; and where the pope’s excommunication thunders, he holds it no more sin the decrowning of kings than our Puritans do the suppression of bishops.  His order is full of irregularity and disobedience, ambitious above all measure; for of late days, in Portugal and the Indies, he rejected the name of Jesuit, and would be called disciple.  In Rome and other countries that give him freedom, he wears a mask upon his heart; in England he shifts it, and puts it upon his face.  No place in our climate holds him so securely as a lady’s chamber; the modesty of the pursuivant hath only forborne the bed, and so missed him.  There is no disease in Christendom that may so properly be called the King’s evil.  To conclude, would you know him beyond sea?  In his seminary he’s a fox, but in the inquisition a lion rampant.

AN EXCELLENT ACTOR.