It roar'd, O hold for pity, Sir I am too great a sufferer, Abus'd, as you have been, b' a witch, But conjur'd into a worse caprich; 310 Who sends me out on many a jaunt, Old houses in the night to haunt, For opportunities t' improve Designs of thievery or love; With drugs convey'd in drink or meat, 315 All teats of witches counterfeit; Kill pigs and geese with powder'd glass, And make it for enchantment pass; With cow-itch meazle like a leper, And choak with fumes of guiney pepper; 320 Make leachers and their punks with dewtry, Commit fantastical advowtry; Bewitch <h> Hermetick-men to run Stark staring mad with manicon; Believe mechanick Virtuosi 325 Can raise 'em mountains in <i> POTOSI; And, sillier than the antick fools, Take treasure for a heap of coals: Seek out for plants with signatures, To quack of universal cures: 330 With figures ground on panes of glass Make people on their heads to pass; And mighty heaps of coin increase, Reflected from a single piece, To draw in fools, whose nat'ral itches 335 Incline perpetually to witches; And keep me in continual fears, And danger of my neck and ears; When less delinquents have been scourg'd, And hemp on wooden anvil forg'd, 340 Which others for cravats have worn About their necks, and took a turn. I pity'd the sad punishment The wretched caitiff underwent, And left my drubbing of his bones, 345 Too great an honour for pultrones; For Knights are bound to feel no blows From paultry and unequal foes, Who, when they slash, and cut to pieces, Do all with civilest addresses: 350 Their horses never give a blow, But when they make a leg, and bow. I therefore spar'd his flesh, and prest him About the witch with many a. question.