Pluto his Travails. OR, The devils Pilgrimage to the College of Jesuits.  
Lately discovered by an English Gentleman.  
LONDON, Printed by N. O. for joseph Hunt, and are to be 〈…〉   

To the High and Mighty Prince, Prince Henry, by the grace of God Prince of great Britain, and Heir apparent to the Imperial Diadems of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland.  
EXCELLENT, and most virtuous Prince, my blushing boldness asketh forgiveness for presuming the presentation of these ill tasting lines, to the Princely view of your high excellency. There are three especial reasons that moved me to this rashness; The first, in regard I have writ to divers Princes in Germany, & the Netherlands, in a borrowed Language, and have tasted the fruits of their gracious favours: And therefore my hopes can be no less here in my native Country, using my mother tongue: Secondly, I have been a Soldier, and write the truth in a plain simple style, which my own eyes have been witness of, and mybest courage shall affirm: Thirdly, to show some part of my duty to my Prince, and Country, whose loves may command the best employment of my life, for both their safeties: I hope your most gracious acceptance of this simple truth, will rather encourage, then discomfort him, that had rather bear the rigour of his enemy, than the discontent of his friend: Thus mighty Prince, with my best wishes of earthly joys, and Heavenly felicity, I continue your high borne Excellencies unworthiest Soldier, whilst I have life.  
WILLIAM FENNER.   

To the Capable, not Captious Readers health.  
I Have to thy eye( courteous Reader) set forth a direct course, that is at this day used in their devilish Pilgrimage: I rest assured some will much distaste me, but for their dislikes, I pass not, in regard they are favourites of this detested Society, here discovered: Yet thus much I'll speak for myself, if the cunningest Equivocator of them all should accuse me of untruth in th● least, I stand ready to cram the lie down their malicious throats, for I protest I write no heeresays, or old wives reports, but that myself hath seen and proved, to my grief; contrariwise, my hopes are these: First many reformed Christians here in England, have traveled these parts, and seen the most of what I have reported, and will rejoice at the discovery: Secondly, many that have not seen them, have heard of many of them, and I doubt not, but will be ready to believe, and allow of it; And though herein be some particulars which carry a show of immodesty, yet chaste ears bear with them, I entreat you, in regard of their truth, for indeed they were more uncivilly acted, than I have to the world's vulgar ear reported, I doubt not but many will reap content from my labour, and I hope the Learned will wink at small faults; as for the obstinate, and Ignorant I have dispensed with their censures beforehand: Thus expecting an universal courtesy, I leave my labour to your loves, & commend myself to your well wishing thoughts.  
Your Friend, W. F.   

Pluto his Travails: or the devils Pilgrimage to the College of jesuits.  
BEFORE We show the Jesuits bald Crown, or discover his plots, it will fall necessary that we let you understand this perilous Pilgrimage of the Devil, nay, rather to the Devil. And for the better proceeding of the Writer, and larger understanding of the Reader, I have divided this journey into five parts, purposing to speak particularly of them in their several places: The points are these: viz. The Pilgrimage; secondly, the Pilgrim; thirdly, the Saint whereto they travel; fourthly, the things they offer fifthly and lastly, the fruits of their journey.  

The first part of the journey.  The word Pilgrimage signifieth a journey of penance, or rather, a kind of banishment for a certain space: Indeed it is a fearful banishment, not for a certain space, but( without repentance) an everlasting excluding of the Soul from grate. And of this word there be three kinds spoken by a figure. The first, is the life of man upon Earth, or the time of his life compared to a Pilgrimage. The second, is a journey into a far country. And the third, is that of which we now spoke, a persevering in blind superstition, by which we make with every step that we tread, a fearful Pilgrimage towards the Devil. But understand me, it is not the use of the word that makes it odious before God, and good Christians: But the use and abuse of the matter, meant by the word, as for example: 
The Pilgrimage of our Saviour.  The Conqueror of Sin, Death, and Hell, traveled his Pilgrimage in mean estate; he had not his Chariot drawn with four or six Palfreys, rarely trapped, three or four Lackeys running by, whilst he sat brisling in the company of beautiful Ladies, in a Velvet Seat, to sport at the poor panting Boys; he was not attended with such observance in his Pilgrimage: But contrary wise, he traveled on foot, and the best Beast that ever he mounted was a silly Ass: At this glorious last Supper, he sat not alone, feeding like a Churl, whilst his twelve Apostles waited at the Table, but like a kind Lord and Master, caused them to keep him company: methinks the use of his humble Pilgrimage, is of force sufficient to reprove a number of our Epieures in this age, that are so greedy, they will scarce keep men to wail upon them, but where they travel in their Pilgrimage, they trouble the whole house with attending them; and no Country in the world so vild for that as Italy, and France; England cannot altogether excuse herself of this culpable guilt; the exceeding many vanities that are used in this superstitious Pilgrimage, last spoke of, were much labour to write, and it would prove tedious for you to read, therefore passing over many, we will only touch a few that are now in use in Flaunders, and Brabant, our neighbour Countries( as it were) And I fear me too many here in England knew them too well before they read them: But to our purpose.  

Note this Story.  There are two great and especial Pilgrimages in the Country of Brabant, the one is to our Lady of Seerpenhowell: the other is to S. Sceruias' at Mastrike, which is a City situated upon the famous River the Maze, and borders on the Land of Luke; which Country is governed by a Bishop.  
Their Pilgrimage to our Lady of Scerpenhowell is in this manner: The place where the Chapel stands was a thick wood, where they affirm many robberies have been done to the great endamaging of Passengers.  
It Chanced upon a night, about the year of our Lord 1597. A flock of Sheep belonging to a Farmer of a little Town not far off, were strayed from their accustomed walks, to the place where now the Chapel stands; the Shepherd missing them, told his Master, who presently took one way, and the Shepherd the other, to look the strayed flock; but it was the shepherds chance to light on this place, where all his Sheep sat round about a great Oak: The Shepherd assayed to drive them away, but could not; musing what might be the reason, he cast his eyes up in the Tree, and saw the Image of our Lady, which presently he took down, and presently the Sheep came all bleating, and running about him: The amazed man could not lay down the Image, but hasted home wards, the Sheep following him, bleating as if they had accused him of theft. When he was come into the Town, the people wondered, and presently sent for their Pastor, who caused the Image to be set in the Church; and the Sheep were driven to their Coats. The next morning the Shepherd missed only one Sheep: And the Pastor going to the Church to say Mass, missed the newcome Image; whereupon he requested the Shepherd to bring him to the place where he first found it, and taking some of the sufficientest men in the Town, they approached here the place, where they found the Image in the former place, and the Sheep lying bound at the root of the tree, and in the Bark of the tree in Roman letters was this Engraven, Offer this Sheep, build here a Church, and call it Scerpenhowell: The Priest amazed at this strange accident, put on his Robes, and did command the company of his parishioners, where a solemn Mass was sung; the sheep sacrificed, & the day and place consecrated, for a remembrance of this much admired Miracle: presently this was rumoured to the gates of Rome, & many thousands came in devotion to this most holy place, & did offer their bounteous benevolence, towards that erecting of a Chapel: where by the infinite number of People that came, & daily do come, the place is now become a populous Town: 8. Priests are there richly maintained, of eight countries, termed by the name of secular Priests, to advertise all strangers of this sheepish Miracle.  

Note this.  This story before written, I have read in Latin, French, and Dutch: and this upon my own knowledge I can affirm. There are in private two chirurgeons kept, of the most skilfullest men in the Country; and many bring sick and lame Children thithet, which by the cunning of these skilful men are cured, and the praise ascribed to our Lady of Scerpenhowell. This gross crime is so closely, and cunningly carried; & every Sabaoth two Sermons made, in the affirming of this Miracle, the it remains currant, as sterling money: and the place is much enriched with gold, & silver; nay corn, wine, wool, eggs, or any other commedity is received in good part: But never any fruits come from thence, but the Priests absolutions.  
If I should recite every thing particularly, it were to much black colour for a choir of paper; only let this sufsice, to prove it no other, but a plain & direct path, where the Devil, or his servants walk their Pilgrimage.  
Now for the second: although it is not so sheepish, yet it is more sottish; and that is this. In Mastricke, in the year of our Lord 1542. there lived, & died a reverend Bishop, who for his alms, and chastity, it pleased the Pope, and the Council of Trent to canonize for a Saint; presently his portraiture was raised in brass, gilded with gold: to whom all the country come twice every year, and bring abundance of wealth. In this year 1611. there came an exceeding drought, & what happened by the policy of the jesuits, you shall at large hears when I come to pluck off the four cornered cap from their politic pates: I could describe the holy blood of Buxall, and the three Kings of Cullin; both which are two great frequented Pilgrimages at this day: Saint Lewes in France, S. jaques in Spain, & many in Italy; but they savour of one taste; & therefore I should cloy your stomachs exceedingly But prepare your appetites, for here comes a fresh dish, or the second coarse of the Pilgrims. 
The second part of this journey.  This word Pilgrim is derived from Peregrin, which signifieth a Stranger, and of these three are three sorts, as for example: The constrained Pilgrim; secondly the dissembling Pilgrim; and lastly the needy Pilgrim. The constrained Pilgrim is this, one that is appointed penance, for some certain sin, by his, or her Confessor. Here may be an objection made, in defence of the Priest, by any favourite of their traditions: They may ask what commodity the Confessor shall gain, by sending his offendant on Pilgrimage, but only the discharging of his conscience: To this I answer; It is no small profit that this brings to the Church of Rome. For consider who these are they send forth, not their needy Pilgrims, but their richest Benefactors, & with this proviso they are sent; first they must offer a certain sum of riches to some Saint in his Confessors Church; secondly he must give so many shillings, for Masses to be said in his absence, to the end he may have a prosperous journey: thirdly he must visit so many Shrines in his Pilgrimage: Fourthly, hear so many Masses by the way: Fifthly, give so much to the Saint he travails to, in honour of the five wounds of our Saviour Christ: Sixthly, he must visit the jesuits Cloisters in his journey, and go to confession so many times. Seventhly, and lastly, at his return, Father confessors must not be forgotten. Thus you says many wicked eggs are hatched, under the dissembling habit of holiness, and the constrained Pilgrims must pay for the breeding of the Chickens.  
Now for the second sort of the dissembling Pilgrims, I fear me there are too many: but omitting the secret, we will only discover the notorious and capital sort. The third Edward of England had a fair Sister, called Philip, matched to the Duke of Savoy, who at a certain time standing before her gates, espied a Spanish Lady going in devotion to Saint Lewes in France, And in courtesy desired her to take the entertainment of her Court; The Spanish Lady noting gracious speech and delicate beauty, took occasion to compare the beauty of the Duchess to the beauty of her Brother in Spain, where at the Duchess burnt in such desire to see him, that was so highly commended by his own Sister, that she dissembled her health, and lying sick of a feigned disease, vowed to God( before the sorrowful Duke) that if God should restore her to her former health, she would go in devotion to Saint jaques in Spain, and offer for her health.  
Upon this Lady's return, she Duchess recovered, and according to her vow, she travailed to Spain for the sight of a Spanish Lord. At their interview their sights were pleasing to each other, and their beauties admired of each other; and after some amorous conference, he vowing to serve her as her Knight, and she most willingly accepting, she returned, but with heavy success, for the never saw her wedded Lord after: He being employed in wars, against the Duke of Burgundy, left a Lord of his Country as Deputy in his place, who upon the return of his Lady, burned in lustful Love with her beauty, and desired her to grant him favour for his affections: The chaste Lady despising his motion, derided him for his folly, at which the villain grew so envious, being poisoned with the devils bait, that he sought all occasions to defame her, and by means of a silly Kimsman, he found way to bring her within the compaste of the law. And being by him accused for adultery, she was condemned to fire, if none within the space of fifteen weeks should come to fight in her cause: this Spanish Lord having received a Letter of her wrongs, sent her word back he could not, neither would he come. Then she repented her long journey, and being void of earthly hopes, prepared herself for death, expecting no deliverance: But contrary to expectation, the Spanish Lord came in the habit of a Friar, and confessed her in Prison, and afterwards sought for her, overthrew Pendosta, and freed her from death, and shame; and after the Duke's death married the Dutches.  
Although this kind of dissimulation was evil in the Duchess, yet it comes not near the close dissimulation that is used in these days. I will give you a taste of some in the City of Cades in Spain. There is a great Monastary of no small account. where in many Gentlemen do enclose their Daughtes: And so it was, there lived a Gentleman in the famous City of Antwerp, 
Note this 1603.  who had a great desire to send his only Daughter thiether, for he had no more: The Girl was about sixteen years of age, and often solicited by a merchants son of the same City; the Maid also grew inclining to his will, and did much affect his suit, but in regard of her Father's mind she could allow him no conference, but in private: And in short time they wrought so privately together, that they overthrew the voyage; for thus it was: the Father made all provision necessary for his Girls tourney; And the young couple being loath to part, practised how to keep company still, in a disguised fashion: So at the last, after long study, Lady Lascivious, with her Beldame Opportunity, growing acquainted with their suit, gave them this counsel: the young man to transform himself into an effeminate shape, & so unsuspected he might safely travel as a she Pilgrim in her company: but for the more safety it was agreed upon between them, that he should take the name of Dalinda, and present himself to the Gentlewoman so, in the shape of an attendant or poor Gentlewoman, seeming by her civil show to be more rich in virtue then in beauty: all which was acted in such acquaint manner that they seemed to surpass the boys of Blacke-fryars. Thus now must we leave to call him by the name of a Merchant's son, but pray you remember Dalinda, and all is well. Imagine you see the father and child parted with tears: she traveling towards her holy life, being accompanied with her waiting maid, and the father having brought her a little on the way returned homewards, joyful that his child was so accompanied, for it seemed to him that his daughter took much delight in the society of her maid. But before we pursue these two lovely Pilgrims any further, I must entreat you to bend your thoughts towards the Merchant, whose heart was much perplexed for the loss of his son. Many times would he go to the Gentleman's house & blame him exceedingly, for sending away so rich a jewel as his child that was in his power to keep; but I qnoth the Merchant have lost that which if I could attain to, it would make me young again, but O my son, my son, I have lost thee for ever: then would a fresh fountain of tears bedew his manly cheeks, that me thought it a pity to behold, the other Gentleman would then give him comfort, and tell him it was the custom of women to bewray their grief with tears. Thus will we leave the two childrenlesse fathers comforting each other, and overtake the Gentlewoman and her maid Dalinda, for they are but new set forth,  
The lovely Pilgrims accompanied each other & made the way short with their pleasing talk, each commending others wit in the several acting of their parts, till at length the black eyed night looked from the East, and Phoebus took his rest in Thetis lap, and this yoke of Pilgrims also according to the custom of travelers, desired repose. Having taken up their Inn they caused supper to be provided, and after supper withdrew themselves into a fair chamber, where the maid counseled the Mistress to accept of a bed fellow, telling the dangers of spirits, catching cold, idle thoughts, and panting greise that often haunted the mind of a sole & weak woman. Dalindas words were of such force that he prevailed, & the kind Gentlewoman affected her maid so much, that she accepted of her society in bed: for these words she spoke. Kind Dalinda although in this journey you are to accompany me for a handmaid, yet upon the condition you will swear to do me true service by night as you have done by day, and serve me in bed as well as abroad I here accept of you for my choice bed fellow. In conclusion Dalinda agreed to all her kind Mistress proposed, And so to bed they went: from whence I think she rose discharged of the Art of honesty. Thus this young couple passed away their journey merrily, until their long way had brought them to the ports of Cades, where they were lovingly received & brought to the Abbess of that Monastery. She without further trial of their intents presented them the oath of chastity which they both solemnly took deeply vowing to keep themselves as they were. Thus they were accepted for sisters, but sister Dalinda shifted bed fellows so often the three of the sisters grew sick of the double disease, which when Dalinda heard, for fear of punishment, found means to escape, and with shipping came to Amsterdam in Holland, where he is wealthily married to the Burgomaster's daughter of the City. The 3 sisters were thrust out of the Monastery, & came home to their fathers, each of them bringing the honourable badge of chastity breeding in their bellies.  
There are too many of those dissembling Pilgrims now a days. Some I could write of, that would prove too shameful for the Writer, and cause the Reader to blush; but leaving these close dissemblers to their most abhorred shame, that waits on wantoness lust: Trouble yourselves to turn over these leaves, and you shall find the dangerous estate of the needy Pilgrims. Let this suffice for the second, & also to prove that all those that walk in this path, are without doubt the devils Pilgrims, or at least, going Pilgrimage unto him.  
This needy traveler is almost in the nature of an English Rogue, there is small difference, and he is as rank a dissembler as the other. There are of all Nations that profess this needy life, but of all, there are most Irish, and I can not blame them, for by nature they are borne to be lousy, stragglers and stirrers up of rebellion; And since it hath pleased God of his mercy to plant his peaceable word, and by the means of his Servant, our most gracious Sovereign Lord, King james( whom God long preserve) to make a civil Country, of the most barbarous parts in Ireland: There are many that have hearkened to the Devils whispering, & sworn their true service to his adopted Son, the Romish Priest. No marvel though they cannot content themselves under a quiet government, but had rather eat of the Scraps of Spain, and Italy, then feed of the plenty of their reformed Country: they are borne wild of brute bringing up, and so they mean to continue: they never knew what reformation meant, neither do they purpose ever to know, for as they were brought up, so they bring up their Children, only to shameful begging, in the manner of Pilgrims, with their Letters of Confession in a Tin Box, which they hang by their sides: They walk in the name of the Pope's Servants; and indeed the needy Hypocrites do thrive in their vile profession exceedingly. But there is the mischief; what they g● with impudent begging, they spend with immodest abuses. There are also many of our countrymen, of this entreating trade, which for some offence are constrained to leave the sweet and wholesome air of their native country, and live in the abominations of the Babilonious Mistress. And how the English jesuits of Louvain do entreat them, you shall plainly see when their caps are of, and their crowns discovered. But courteous reader, feast no longer upon the needy dish of Pilgrims meat, but turn thy gentle eye, and see the Saint described whereto they travel.  

The third part of this journey.  The Saints whereto they travel are divers, and according to the nature of the crime committed, or otherwise the necessity of the business they take in hand, for these are the principal uses of Pilgrimage, but we are not to reason of the voyage, but of the arrival, for after many a weary step with joyful hearts they enter the Temple, where their Saint stands, nay rather an abominable Idol or image of stone, only it retaineth the shape of a dead man or woman, according to the pleasure of the Carver, and after the Carver hath most artificially finished his Art, comes the Painter, and daubs it over with his lively colours. Some of their Saints seem to smile, promising with an auspicious eye, grace( as it were) to the penitent petitioner: others are framed( by the Painter's Art) with a show of weeping, and to your thoughts the dead eye of the image will present tears, as though it did delacrimate man's misery, or seem to weep with a grieving sorrow for the sins of the solemn suitor: Who can be so blind except the devil hath blinded him, to put any confidence in the carvers skill, or the Painter's Art? And who is not so blind( but those whom God hath opened their eyes that they may discern the clear light of the Gospel, and give credit to this most heathen like and devilish doctrine; this is all that I can describe of their Saint, a carved stone, or a painted, or guilded piece of wood. And the conclusion of my censure is this, that all those that straggle in devotion to visit these Saints, cannot miss the way towards the devil, and some travel barefoot too, because they will take the more pains in this detested Pilgrimage. I am loath my pen should urge so bare a subject any further, yet one thing gentle Reader with thy patience I must unfold concerning their Saints, the much honoured image of our blessed Lady is in most places richly decked with robes of divers colours, as for example, where the Angel saluted her she is set forth in a white lawn rob in token of chastity, with her golden tresses of hair hanging down her back, and a modest blushing bespread her virginlike cheeks. After her conception, she is adored with scarlet. After the birth of our Saviour, in black velvet: and at his passion she is pictured in a blue vail: thus after their own inventions, they form the image of the blessed Virgin, and also of all other Saints, which I here omit.  

The fourth part of this journey.  The fourth part of our journey consists in the things they offer, which briefly we will touch, because we long to uncap the dissembling jesuit. The things they offer are of three kinds: viz. first, Orisons; secondly, Gifts: and thirdly Thanks: as for their Orisons, they are in this manner: they commonly kneel on their bare knees, or else prostrate all along with their beads in their hands, they say so many paternosters, Ave-Maries, and Creeds as their Ghostly father hath appointed them, than they bless the image, desiring the Saint in heaven to look down and see in what humble devotion he honours his or her image, than they cross themselves which they call blessing themselves▪ and departing into a cellar or a vault under ground, where they say the Saints bodies lie buried, they first do their devotion in prayers and after offer such gifts as they bring, be it gold, silver, velvet, silks, cambrike, linen, woollen, lead, corn, wine, oil, eggs, or any other commodity, but gold and silver is the pleasingst gifts that the Saints accept of, and bringing good store of that, no doubt but all shall go well with their suits: This being laid upon the Altar the Priest consecrates it, absolves the party, and prays to the Saint for him that he may have his desire: the Pilgrim sufficiently contented, returns to the former image, and there pouring forth a million of thanks for his good success, in that the Saint hath vouched safe by his Priest to accept of their unworthy offerings, and so they return discharged of their golden burden.  
Let this suffice for their offerings. Now concerning the fruits of this journey before rehearsed, it is of two kinds, that is general and particular. The general fruit is deceit which the poor Pilgrims pluck with greedy appetites, the tree whereon this fruit groweth, is the Roman Church, and it never misseth bearing▪ for neither the heat of Summer, nor the cold of Winter can destroy it, it is a forbidden fruit, and whosoever desireth to taste thereof must needs be deceived, it shows fair to the eye, and promiseth life, but within it is corrupted and bringeth death, this is the general fruit they reap for their travel. My reason is this, the devil is a common deceiver, and those that post Pilgrimage towards him must needs taste of this deceitful fruit.  
The second fruit they reap is particular, according to the disposition of the party that desires it: this tree is general but it bears particular fruits, as vain hope, wilful ignorance, blind zeal, corrupt belief, false worship, and lastly death and damnation. It would seem idleness in me to discourse of these severally, or to seem to dissuade men from this, therefore. I will leave it to your own judgement, and to the learned Divines counsel, which is of far more force, than my simple persuasions can be. Thus much for this devilish Pilgrimage.  
Friendly Reader, if this long journey hath not wearied thee, go on a little further, and thou shalt see my honest simple skill in unmasking the jesuits plots, let thy heart be as free from envy, as my pen, which shall put down nothing but truth, and what I have seen, and dare affirm by oath, were it to their téethes. Therefore I hope none will tax me of malice, for I had rather be convicted of simple plainness, having truth on my side, then commended for an artificial writing where the truth is wronged by false suggestions. But leaving all to thy kind considerations, I am purposed to go forward with my unlearned style, relating their learned approved practices.  

here endeth the devils Pilgrimage, and here beginneth the bareheaded jesuits.  
THere are divers Orders in the Romish religion, as namely the benedict's, the Dominictes, the Franciscans, the Augustine's, the Carthusians, the Carmelites, the Capucines, and lastly the jesuits, of whom we purpose to speak, In Latin they are called societatis jesu: in Dutch, jesuiter, which signifieth jesus fellows, or at least the fellowship of jesus. This Sect is but of small continuance, or but of young growth, yet never Sect in the world hath flourished so for the time, for in them the Devil shows himself to be a true Politician, and they as his faithful instruments, spread his policy through the greatest part of Europa:  
In Louvain a City in Brabant, eight leagues distant from Antwerp, is erected a College at the King of Spain's charges for English jesuits, wherein at this present inhabits father Taubut, which is the Superior, father joseph, father Kempe, father Anthony, father Minister, & many more, besides punies & novicies, They have their College allowed them, for these purposes. First, to reconcile or convert any of their countrymen that happen into their hands. Secondly, to disguise themselves, and like Gentlemen to come into England, and pry into Court and Counsels to know the state of the land and Church, & to transport their news to the Pope, & their Spanish Lord. For these two purposes they are maintained, but we'll come a little nearer. 
Note this.  If a Gentleman chance to go over, their cinque port descries him presently, then with letters they invite him thither where they so work him, that he shall hardly escape the snares and baits are laid to entangle him: when he is caught they bring him to confession, where they know his quantity of substance, and quality of mind, which being known, they shrive and ease him of his substance, if he be learned they accept of him in their society, otherwise send him to the Carthusians in Mackelyn, or else to Saint Omers in Flanders, or to Rome, to make him the fitter for their purpose. This is their usage to Gentlemen. If a poor man come to them, they accept him willingly, and examine him concerning his conscience, if they find him not currant, they admonish him showing him books of instruction in the principles of religion: if this catch him not, they allure him with promises, not only of a heavenly crown, but of some earthly crowns: the needy snake cannot choose but nibble at this charitable bait, and rather than fail they will then venture a crown or two, and with comfortable works tell him that if he continue he shall not want, and to the furthering of this comfort they give him letters of attestation, where and when he was converted, from a loathed heretic, to a godly and blessed Catholic, then dismissing him the house, they tell him it is no shame to beg and bid him be bold. Thus he that could live in his own country by his honest labour, is converted, or rather by them perverted to an impudent and shameless beggar: this is one of their privy policies, to shadow their detested covetousness, for if they bestow an Angel of a beggar, they beg a brace of hundreds from a gallant, thus they buy and sell their conscience but they will be sure to gain by the bargain.  
This abominable sect is lulled in the lap, and snuggles in the breasts of the seven deadly sins( as they call them) yet they have artificial masks to shadow all from the vulgar eyes of the world. Their pride is covered with humility, as appears by their plain habit, and courteous speeches, yet their hearts heap up ambitious thoughts: here may be a question asked, how I know the heart? I will resolve you, I have seen them in their Gentlemanlike suits, swagger in more proud fashion then a Spaniard: secondly, I have observed pride in their speeches, for they have a kind of purified speech, exceeding all men's in their own thoughts: Here I must compare them to many of our hypocritical professors in England, which take more care of their words, than their deeds, I have noted them to scorn all others that seemed any way to distaste their Sect, and as I take it these are true notes of pride: for rovetousnesse they cover it with a show of poverty, for they always profess themselves poor, protesting if they had it, no man should want it, when as indeed they will have it though all others should want it. You shall hears the proof of this hereafter, when I speak of their banishment out of Venice, their envy is coloured with a show of desire to make the world wise with their learning, and indeed they do grudge that any wisdom or learning breathes out of their Colleges, they hate all good works that are not made by Jesuits, they cloak wrath with meekness, and in outward show are very gentle and mild, but their hearts more fierce than Lions: It is not unknown to many, what Peers and Princes their wrath hath brought to untimely ends, and yet these tyrant's thirst in their souls for more royal blood to quench their fierce wrath. But he is above that prevents their desires and destroys their daily plots. Their sloth is hidden from the eye of any, but God and themselves, and I think in this sin they have least and most show: for as the old proverb is, they are neither idle, nor well occupied, for they are ever busy but it is in the devils service. And for gluttony, he dwells in their kitchen, but you shall never go thither to see him. Last Lady lechery puts on this mask, no woman of what degree soever may enter their second parts or inward door, but by your leave the jesuits enter privately within their inward doors, and do the deeds of darkness with them when they please. But this may be thought a slander, therefore give me leave to free myself from this suspicion. In Louvain there is an English Cloister of Gentlewomen, and the Lady Abbess much respected for her hidden virtues, in which Cloister their dwelleth a young man called Ralph, which loved a waiting Gentlewoman, whose Lady often frequented the company of the Lady Abbess, by which means, Ralph and the maid had opportunity to confer. It chanced one of the English jesuits, a young man repaired thither often likewise, and in short time grew into such inward acquaintance with the maid, that Ralph took his love with her belly full of young bones, which afterwads confessed were of the jesuits making. Ralph made his complaint to the Cloisrer, and told father Talbot one of their holy Family had enjoyed too much homely familiarity with his wife, and made him a father before his time; protesting if they would not make him amends, he would publish it through the whole Country. But the jesuits agreeing amongst themselves, stopped his mouth with an hundred Angels: whereupon Ralph was content to father the jesuits child. Thus you see, though they are not content a woman should enter their Cloister, yet they themselves will vouchsafe to enter their closerts. But we will leave to speak more of these loving labourers in the devils harvest, and write briefly of the Venetian villains, which shall answer my promise in the leaf going before, to prove their cloaked covetousness.  
In this famous City of Venice inhabited certain Colleges of jesuits, to whom all the chief Merchant's wives went to confession, and were appointed such horrible penance, that their husband's riches, which was exceeding great, began to waste, in such sort that the Merchants began to take a severe account of their servants, but to small effect; till at last, one perceived his wife to purse up great store of gold in an evening whilst she thought he had slept: and being ready to issue out of the the chamber door, belike to hide it against the next confession day, her husband stepped out of his bed, and stayed her, using these words: Stay sweet wife, I must talk with you. The amazed woman made no reply, but stood as it were in a Trance. The Merchant having her in a private chamber, locked the door, and taking his naked poniard, placing the point to her breast, threatened with oaths her present death, if she would not reveal the occasion of pursing up that gold. The poor woman affrighted with these words, confessed all what she knew of herself and others. This night past away, and on the morrow the Merchant sent for the men whose wines his wife had accused, and relating the whole story which she before had demonstrated, and then before them all affirmed. They all agreed to shroud themselves in the chamber behind an Oras, whilst his wife by a private token sent for her Confessor, who presently came, ask the cause of her importuning him there. She, with many dissembling sighs, told him about a thing which much troubled her conscience. Be of good cheer( quoth he) it shall go hard but I will unload your conscience of any sin whatsoever. Therefore speak your mind. Alas( quoth she) in my sleep I chanced to dream of you, and in my dream spoke of the masses of gold and silver that you have had of me: my husband being awake, overheard me, and took hold of my words, casting it in my teeth daily. I denied it strongly. He affirms 'tis truth, and urges me to the revealing of it, with persuasions & threatenings, so that I know not longer how to dissemble, or defend it, neither can I furnish you with any more treasure, by reason of his strict accounts, and narrow prying into my doings: therefore( holy father) most entirely I do entreat you to resolve me in this most dangerous case what is best to be done, and I shall most willingly do my endeavour to follow your often approved good counsel. You say well( quoth the old Fox) and for your souls good rest constant, and confess nothing, no though you should incur the greatest displeasure of your husband; but rather count it a blessing that you are worthy to suffer reproof for the Mother Church. Go forward in your holy work, and to bring treasure to the Church, where neither rust nor moth shall corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal. So shall you be blest, and receive for your corruptible gold, an incorruptible crown of glory. But if you faint and slack in this good work begun, you shall be tormented in your soul. Whereat the Merchants rushed forth, laying hold of the jesuit, & told him they meant he should be tormented in 〈◊〉 body. And drawing a poniard the woman's husband spoke as followeth: Villain, either disclose thy plots in receiving our substance, or presently prepare for Hell: for this resolved hand shall send thee past Purgatory. And bending his poniard at the amazed jesuits breast, the quaking slave fell down on his knees praying for mercy, and he would discover all, and restore them their several wealths double. They all affirmed, you are not worth so much. Yes( queth the jesuit) I will make a shift to keep my word: therefore I pray you tell me on your consciences, what may the sum amount unto that you miss. They answered, eighteen thousand pounds sterling. Peace( quoth the Priest) if you will promise me faithfully never to report it, you shall go and receive the sum double. It is enough( said the Gentlemen:) So they agreed, and marched together to the jesuits Cloister, where they were admitted, and a most rich banquet provided. But the Father Superior caused a mortal potion to be tempered for them all; and taking a beaker of hippocras, drunk a health to them all: and pouring forth the infectious wine with great courtesy, he had them all heartily welcome, affirming they should possess the fore-written sum with expedition. The Gentleman( whether mistrusting the deceit, or rather God was not pleased that this villainy should proceed) took a Stone shell standing by him, and pouring the poison therein, the shell broke in pieces. Upon this sight the other Gentlemen drew to their weapons, the jesuits likewise armed themselves: and in mean while the Gentlemen played the men, and got out into the streets, crying, Treason, Treason, with their weapons drawn. At length they got into the Marketplace, unto whom resorted all the States, and most sufficientest Merchants to know the cause of this clamour. So one of them got up on the Stage, where their Comedies are acted, and uttered this speech: Renowned States, and worthy Citizens, whom all the world admires for polic● why will you suffer yourselves to be undermined? you your wives and children, know this, we are all deceived & overruled: not by the gracious directions of you the Honourable States, but by the close dissembling jesuits; which( if it be not reform) will be the ruin of this most famous City. I speak the truth, which some of my brethren here can witness, and most of our wives, by whom our wealth is transported to the jesuits: which when we knew, they invited us to a banquet, affirming us our money double; but there they sought to poison us: but God hath delivered us out of their hands to discover their villainy. Therefore worthy States, search their Cloisters, and you shall find infinite store of treasure there. This upon my soul's safety, and lives peril, I affirm it for truth.  
Upon this report, the States taking these Merchants along with them, repaired where all was at full related. Whereupon, the Duke assisting the States, they were all banished the City, having nothing allowed them but their Books and Habits. After their departure, their Colleges were searched, wherein was found infinite treasure. And by a public proclamation of the Duke and States, the Merchants were summoned to the College, where( upon their oaths) every man seized on his own, and the overplus, that no man challenged, came to the Duke and States, to the value of five hundred millions, besides plate and vestures: yet these dissemblers professed themselves poor.  
Thus were these jesuits banished from Venice, which displeased the Pope's holiness not a little; nevertheless these stragglers were by their false fellows presently planted and enriched. These jesuits are much like the jews, for let them come where they will, they thrive by their place. Nay that which is more, let them be now in extreme poverty, yet with one years dealing they will grow exceeding rich, that other men shall smart for their prosperity, I think this point of knanery hath set his cap on the one side and discovered half his head, but this plot following shall quite disfurnish him of his cap, I pray you note it, for it is the fulfilling of a promise that I made, when I spoke of the Pilgrimage at Mastricke, concerning the drought of this years, and so I mean to conclude my little volume, with that most abominable villainy  
In Mastricke, as I said before, there is a frequented Pilgrimage, to Saint Sceruias'. You know this year there was an exceeding drought. It was my chance to be there at the present,( therefore I will report but what I have seen) And many a hundred came in blind devotion and offered gifts to the Saint in hope of rain: notwithstanding the drought continued. The jesuits of the City being loath to let so fair and profitable a game slip without chase, let loose their dogs, which fastened on this fashion. One of their smoothest tongues, anointed with the devils oil, steps up into the Pulpit, and utters his Sermon to the people in this sort. This drought( quoth he) is sent from heaven to plague the earth for the people's unthankfulness and neglecting of their duties. here( quoth he) you bring offerings to this blessed Saint, but it is presented with unhallowed hands, & polluted hearts, therefore to prevent the Lords wrath, and the Saints fury, bring your gifts to us, & our holy Society will consecrate them, and with pure hearts and unspotted hands offer them up to this most holy Saint, who no doubt but will be pleased in love to accept them. Moreover( quoth he) your gifts are defiled with covetousness, but Beloved you must bring it willingly, and according to your ability; & then no doubt but heavens drops will quench the thirsty earth. This was the mark he aimed at in his Sermon, which as the Devil would have it took effect, and profited the jesuits very much. For after this all offerings were first brought to them, which they first under show of sanctification stole the most and best part away, the Cannons in Saint Sceruias' Church got the rest, but the Picture and the Pilgrims were both cheated. After a long time of drought it pleased God to send rain; then they sent plackets out to warn the country to a thanks offering, where after Mass a Sermon was made in honour of this worshipful image, afterwards they were let into a secret wide room, adjoining to the Church, where his Portraiture stands, raised in lively colours, two Priests kept the door, and every man gave his devotion to see their tragical show. It appeared much like our stage-players, but only they wanted a fool in the show. Yet the two Foxes made geese of all them that came to behold it: thus their monstrous abuses are made manifest. For what will not these men deal in for gain, that set price of the weather.  
So far hath truth ventured to uncap the jesuits, the all may plainly discern a bareheaded cunning knave. I would wish all my friends and countrymen to take heed of their company, for their Society is dangerous, & their snares & baits are many; their religion was brought in by Ignatius, but it shall go out with eternal ignomy, when the Almighty is pleased either to convert, or utterly root them out. I could prosecute their politic close plots further, and show the manner of their hellish Inquisition, common, & private Counsels, their Libraries, and confessions, but so much hath been heretofore written, therefore I will not enter into their works. Let him that sows reap, and those that plant eat of their own fruit. As for this I protest it was mine own observation, which I have willingly set forth, for the good of my loving countrymen.  
To speak of one general point briefly, I hope shall neither tire me nor weary you. I pray you observe it. In the Empire of Christendom for one Protestant there are ten Papists, and it were 〈◊〉 to think there are no well conditioned people amongst them, this I dare affirm upon my conscience, that without doubt there are many godly men and women, truly devout & zealous, the would willingly come to see the clear shining light of truth, but these men of darkness stand between them & the light, & bar the truth from them. But for the jesuits, thus I censure them generally upon my conscience, that of a hundredth there are scarce two just dealing men. For breach of oaths they call equivocation, & all their villainies they can dispense with. But alas their ending illusions without God's mercy, will turn to their endless confusions, where they shall curse their tutor the Devil, for instructing them in these and many more their deceitful and politic 〈◊〉. Let us give thanks to him the suffers none 〈…〉 wolves to devour his chosen Flock here in 〈◊〉. And lastly you jocund jesuits, that strut it out in your dissembling holy habits, look to it, I have only discovered your bald crowns, but I fear me, if you come masking here into England in your former and accustomed disguises, the excutioner will rip up your bloody breasts, and discover your treacherous hearts, And then the Pope's Bull will rear at T●●orne. Till then Farewell.   
FINIS.