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MAGIQUE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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199

MAGIQUE

The Devill was more Generous then Adam,
That never Layd the Fault upon his Madam:
But like a Gallant, and Heroique Elfe,
Tooke freely all the Crime upon himself.
For Men are never certaine of strange sights,
Their Senses are so Distressed with Frights:
Especiall[y] of Specters, that forbeare,
Unless it bee in Darkest Nights, t' appeare.
For Magique is a False Spirituall slur,
And therefore subtler then the Secular:
Is more Mysterious, as it is Infernall,
And hard to [be] Disciferd then the Carnall:
Whose Intricate Designes, are better Layd,
Then those that use to be above boord playd.
For Ages, when they are Inhumane Grown,
Make worke, for Idle Sorcerers, to own:
When all extravagant, and Lewd Capricches,
Are Chargd upon the false Accompt of witches.
As if th' Indentures between Hags and Fiends
Were more Familiar then the Name Pretend's.
When some have Hangd for swimming on their Backs
And Sticking Pins, in Images of Wax.
For Men are counted Atheists that Deny,
Or doubt the Devils Infallibility:
When Cats for Nine Lives have procurd a Lease,
To serve him Co[n]stantly with Pigs and Geese.
And witches both their Soules, and Bodys give
To Please themselvs with mischief while they live;
When nothing can fall out, tho ere so Common,
But is Reducd to Prodigy, or Omen.
[A Witch]
Is Able to outly a Proselyte,
That has been New-absolvd b' a Jesuite:

200

And by Confession's orderd to Deny all
He had acknowledg'd, when he comes to Tryall.
Untill the Poore Deluded Creature Dy's,
A Martyr, to the Patriarke of Lys.
The Devil first Debaucht a modest Man
To bee a Courtier quite against the Graine.
And in Defyance of his Fatall Stars
Trepand a Timorous Coward to the wars.
For when the Devill ow's some Men a Shame,
He put's-by all the Passes, that they Aime.
And with his Cloven Diabolique Foot
Kicks all the mischief down, they go about.
There Need's no other Charme, nor Conjurer,
To Rayse Infernall Spirits-up, but Feare:
That makes Men Pul their Hornes in, like a Snayle
That's both a Prisner to it selfe, and Jayle.
Draws more Phantastique Shapes, then in the Graines,
Of knotted wood; in some Men's Crazy Braines:
When all the cocks they think they see, and Bulls,
Are only in the Insides of their Sculs.
So in the stable ty'd-up Nags
Are Ridden Post, by mounted hags.
The Prophesies of Dreams Prognosticate
Mens Constitutions rather then their Fate.