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3. A WARNING VOICE AGAINST FASCINATION.

Philomathes.

What can be the reason that there are twenty women
given to that craft where there is one man?

Epistemon.

The reason is easie, for as that sexe is frailer than man is,
so it is easier to be entrapped into these gross snares of the deuil, as
was once well proved to be trew, by the serpent's deceiving Eua at the
beginning, which makes him the homelier with that sexe sensine.

“Dæmonologie” by “the most high and mightie Prince
James, by the grace of God, king, &c.

Juliet.

If they do see thee they will murder thee.

Romeo.

Alack! There lies more peril in thine eye, than twenty of
their swords.

One of the earliest victims of the too much indulged crime,
whose character and consequences are the subject of the
present discourse, was Patience Delight, a young witch of
Franklin, Massachusetts. As her case is pregnant with good
caution, and pertiment to the matter in hand, we will premise
our observations with a brief statement of her trial. The
account is taken from the original manuscript in the handwriting
of the venerable Precious Smith, one of the early
settlers in Smith's patent, L. I. and Chairman of the board of
Commissioners on the occasion of this memorable investigation.
The interesting document is preserved in the library
of the Syrian Institute of Christian Hook, Matowacs, N. Y.
The records runs, as follows:—

“A trew account of the triall of Patience Delight, &c.
May 24, 1692. This being the day sette apart for the triall
of that atrocious leaguer with Sathan, I tuck brother Condemned
Fish, and Rev. Remember-Lots-wife Parkensen to
sit with me in judgment, we being thereto specially commissioned.
Opened court in the meet'n house with prayer.

The pris'ner was brought in by the sherif thickly vailed, so
that Sathan might not prevail upon the court thro' her devilish
eyes, and with her arms straitly chained. Then brother Persevere-to-the-end
Havery testified after this wise. I was
up into my broad-hollow wood-lot, cloast by Goody Delight's,
mother of pris'ner, chop'n wood Just towards the night, I
felled a hickory, and sat thereon, resting and meditating.
Then comes a certain rustlin in the bushes hard by, and turning
my head, lo! I see, thorow the tanglements, two sharp
piercing eyes that overcame me with strange dread. I
thought, first, it should be a wild catte, or a painter, the
sharpness thereof was so severe. But reach'n for my axe,
and rising up, I see pris'ner pluck'n berries. She looked at
me again, and then looks away, and thereupon was I seized
with unaccountable desire to keep looking at her, and could,
in nowise, keep my eyes off her. Which the tempter seeing
and waxing bold, she saieth good evenen to me with much
sweetness of voice that ran like tingling oil of Egypt
thorow my marrow. She keeps pick'n, and look'n, and shuten
into my body the most distrustful contagion, insomuch that I
was near beside myself. Presentlie, on pretense of pluck'n
beries, she cometh to where I sat, still shutin at me with
her eyes, and when she comes cloast by me, restraining grace
was utterly banished out of me, and I was wholly possessed
with the Deuil. Hearken not to my weaknesse, but to the
power of sin. Then, saied I, “Patience, how old art thou?
And she answered and saied “Sixteen years, and nine months,
worthy sir.” Then Sathan takes my hand, and makes me
to lay hold on her, and draw her to sette by my side. She
struggles, and makes outcrie, and saies she, “the man is bewitched.”
“Yes,” saies I, “and thou art the witch that hath
bewitched me, and thou shalt cure thine own poisson.”
Whereupon, she uplifts violent clamour, and I know not what
else goes on, until my brother Condemned Fish, passing by,
comes up, and clappes me on the sholderre, saying `Hallo!
brother Havery! what's the matter?' And at that touch of
that holy man, Sathan departed out of me, strait-way.”