Had the old parsons preached still, The div’l should nev’r have had his wil; But those that had or art or skill Are outed; And those to whom the pow’r was giv’n Of driving spirits, are out-driv’n; Their colledges dispos’d, and livings, To grout-heads. There was a justice who did boast, Hee had as great a gift almost, Who did desire him to accost This evill. But hee would not employ his gifts. But found out many sleights and shifts; Hee had no prayers, nor no snifts, For th’ divell. Some other way they cast about, These brought him in, they throw not out; A woman, great with child, will do’t; They got one. And she i’ th’ room that night must lie; But when the thing about did flie, And broke the windows furiously And hot one Of the contractors o’re the head, Who lay securely in his bed, The woman, shee-affrighted, fled —— —— And now they lay the cause on her. That e’re that night the thing did stir, Because her selfe and grandfather Were Papists; They must be barnes-regenerate, (A _Hans en Kelder_ of the state, Which was in reformation gatt,) They said, which Doth make the divell stand in awe, Pull in his hornes, his hoof, his claw; But having none, they did in draw —— —— —— But in the night there was such worke, The spirit swaggered like a Turke; The bitch had spi’d where it did lurke, And howled In such a wofull manner that Their very hearts went pit a pat; The stately rooms, where kings once lay But the contractors show’d the way. But mark what now I tell you, pray, ’Tis worth it. That book I told you of before, Wherein were tenants written store, A register for many more Not forth yet, That very book, as it did lie, Took of a flame, no mortall eye Seeing one jot of fire thereby, Or taper; For all the candles about flew, And those that burned, burned blew, Never kept soldiers such a doe Or vaper. The book thus burnt and none knew how The poore contractors made a vow To work no more; this spoil’d their plow In that place. Some other part o’ th’ house they’ll find, To which the divell hath no mind, But hee, it seems, is not inclin’d With that grace; But other pranks it plaid elsewhere. An oake there was stood many a yeere, Of goodly growth as any where, Was hewn down, Which into fewell-wood was cut, And some into a wood-pile put, But it was hurled all about And thrown down. In sundry formes it doth appeare; Now like a grasping claw to teare; Now like a dog; anon a beare It tumbles; And all the windows battered are, No man the quarter enter dare; All men (except the glasier) Doe grumble. Once in the likenesse of woman, Of stature much above the common, ’Twas seene, but spak a word to no man, And vanish’d.