Woodstock; or, the Cavalier

They cast about what best to doe; 
Next day they would to wisemen goe, 
To neighb'ring towns some cours to know; 
For schollars

Come not to Woodstock, as before, 
And Allen's dead as a nayle-doore, 
And so's old John (eclep'd the poore) 
His follower;

Rake Oxford o're, there's not a man 
That rayse or lay a spirit can, 
Or use the circle, or the wand, 
Or conjure;

Or can say (Boh!) unto a divell, 
Or to a goose that is uncivill, 
Nor where Keimbolton purg'd out evill, 
'Tis sin sure.

There were two villages hard by, 
With teachers of presbytery, 
Who knew the house was hidiously 
Bepestred;

But 'lasse! their new divinity 
Is not so deep, or not so high; 
Their witts doe (as their meanes did) lie 
Sequestred;

But Master Joffman was the wight 
Which was to exorcise the spright; 
Hee'll preach and pray you day and night 
At pleasure.

And by that painfull gainfull trade, 
He hath himselfe full wealthy made; 
Great store of guilt he hath, 'tis said, 
And treasure.

But no intreaty of his friends 
Could get him to the house of fiends, 
He came not over for such ends 
From Dutch-land,

But worse divinity hee brought, 
And hath us reformation taught, 
And, with our money, he hath bought 
Him much land.

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.

'Tis thought the ghost of some good wife 
Whose husband was depriv'd of life, 
Her children cheated, land in strife 
She banist.

No man can tell the cause of these 
So wondrous dreadful outrages; 
Yet if upon your sinne you please 
To discant,

You'le find our actions out-doe hell's; 
O wring your hands and cease the bells, 
Repentance must, or nothing else 
Appease can't.