Soon as they had him at their mercy, They put him to the cudgel fiercely, As if they'd scorn'd to trade or barter, By giving or by taking quarter: 1150 They stoutly on his quarters laid, Until his scouts came in t' his aid. For when a man is past his sense, There's no way to reduce him thence, But twinging him by th' ears or nose, 1155 Or laying on of heavy blows; And if that will not do the deed, To <y> burning with hot irons proceed. No sooner was he come t' himself, But on his neck a sturdy elf 1160 Clapp'd, in a trice, his cloven hoof, And thus attack'd him with reproof; Mortal, thou art betray'd to us B' our friend, thy Evil Genius, Who, for thy horrid perjuries, 1165 Thy breach of faith, and turning lies, The Brethren's privilege (against The wicked) on themselves, the Saints, Has here thy wretched carcase sent For just revenge and punishment; 1170 Which thou hast now no way to lessen, But by an open, free confession; For if we catch thee failing once, 'Twill fall the heavier on thy bones. What made thee venture to betray, 1175 And filch the lady's heart away? To Spirit her to matrimony? -- That which contracts all matches -- money. It was th' inchantment oft her riches That made m' apply t' your croney witches, 1180 That, in return, wou'd pay th' expence, The wear and tear of conscience; Which I cou'd have patch'd up, and turn'd, For the hundredth part of what I earn'd. Didst thou not love her then? Speak true. 1185 No more (quoth he) than I love you. -- How would'st th' have us'd her, and her money? -- First turn'd her up to alimony; And laid her dowry out in law, To null her jointure with a flaw, 1190 Which I before-hand had agreed T' have put, on purpose in the deed; And bar her widow's making over T' a friend in trust, or private lover. What made thee pick and chuse her out, 1195 T' employ their sorceries about? -- That which makes gamesters play with those Who have least wit, and most to lose. But didst thou scourge thy vessel thus, As thou hast damn'd thyself to us? 1200 I see you take me for an ass: 'Tis true, I thought the trick wou'd pass Upon a woman well enough, As 't has been often found by proof, Whose humours are not to be won, 1205 But when they are impos'd upon. For love approves of all they do That stand for candidates, and woo. Why didst thou forge those shameful lies Of bears and witches in disguise? 1210