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<DATE>2014-08-04</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B140112.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B11282">
<STC T="S">1030.5</STC>
<STC T="C">S119200</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99854407</BIBNO>
<VID>177241</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<P><HI>A MOST VVICKED</HI> worke of a wretched Witch, (the <HI>like whereof none can record the&s;e ma|nie yeeres in England.)</HI></P>
<P><HI>Wrought on the Per&s;on of one Richard Burt,</HI> Seruant to Mai&s;ter <HI>Edling</HI> of Woodhall in the Parri&s;h of <HI>Pinner</HI> in the Coun|tie <HI>of Myddle&s;ex, a myle</HI> be|yond Harrow.</P>
<P>Latelie committed in March la&s;t, An. <HI>1592 and newly recogni&s;ed according to the truth&punc;</HI></P>
<P>by <HI>G. B.</HI> mai&s;ter of Arts.</P>
<P><FIGURE>
<FIGDESC>depiction of a jester (?)</FIGDESC>
</FIGURE></P>
<P>Printed by R. B. for William Barley, and are to be &s;old at his &s;hop in Gratious &s;treat.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="epigraph">
<PB REF="2">
<HEAD>Hexa&s;ticon.</HEAD>
<L>Of wrathfull witches this &s;ame pa~phlet tels,</L>
<L>How mo&s;t of all on &s;imple folke they worke.</L>
<L>What woonders to they may atchiue by &s;pels,</L>
<L>God weede them out in euery cell they lurke,</L>
<L>God weeds them out, but &s;atan &s;til doth hatch,</L>
<L>fre&s;h Impes, whereby of al &s;orts he may catch.</L>
<EPIGRAPH>
<BIBL>Leuit. 20.6.</BIBL>
<Q>If any turne after &s;uch as worke vvith &s;pirits, and after &s;ooth&s;aiers, to goe a whoring after them, then will I &s;et my face again&s;t that per&s;on, and will cutte him off from among his people.</Q>
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<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="text">
<PB REF="2">
<HEAD><HI>A mo&s;t wicked worke of a wret|ched</HI> Witch, wrought on the Per|&s;on of one Richard Burt.</HEAD>
<P>_SO long (righte Gentle and cour|teous Reader) as wee liue heere in this wretched vale of mi&s;erie, and my&s;erable e&s;tate of our Pro|bationer&s;hip, we are all euen the be&s;t of vs all, to account no better of our &s;elues, then that we liue in a perpetuall warrefare, and mo&s;t dangerous and deadlie com|bat.</P>
<P>Our Enimies that we are to fight again&s;t are in num|ber three: The world, the Fle&s;h, and the Dyuell:<NOTE PLACE="marg">The three dedlie eni|mies of ma~|kind.</NOTE> two wherof notwith&s;tanding (&s;uch is our blinde per&s;euerance) the mo&s;te parte e&s;teeme their entire friends, whereas in|deed they are the hande-myni&s;ters of our Archenimie, all vnder colourable frend&s;hip deceiuing their familiars, and &s;eeking their death both of bodie and &s;oule.</P>
<P>Our graund foeman Sathan Architect of all mi&s;chiefe, in &s;cripture hath many proper names,<NOTE PLACE="marg">Reuel. 9.11.</NOTE> to explaine his ma|litious nature: Of his crueltie hee is called <HI>Abaddon,</HI> a De&s;troier, bicau&s;e that not like a common enimie hee is contented with the death and downefall of our bodies, but imagineth vtter de&s;truction of the &s;oule al&s;o, and intol|lerable tormentes ioyntlie to them both:<NOTE PLACE="marg">Iohn. 12.6.</NOTE> Of his crafte hee is tearmed a Theefe, bicau&s;e he inuenteth by what mea|nes he may &s;lilie and vnwittinglie &s;et vpon the godlie.<NOTE PLACE="marg">Iob. 1.10. and 2.5.</NOTE> Of his malice he is called <HI>Diabolus,</HI> an accu&s;er, bicau&s;e euer|more day and night he is bu&s;ie, accu&s;ing the con&s;ciences of the righteous.</P>
<P>He is named a Dragon of his pollicie, bicau&s;e that &s;ince
<PB N="2" REF="3"> the time of <HI>Adam,</HI> among &s;o many thou&s;ands, in &s;o many yeares, there hath beene founde none &s;o wi&s;e or warie, that could with&s;tand his &s;tratagems, but he hath wounded and poi&s;oned them well nighe vnto death.</P>
<P>He hight a Lion al&s;o of his power, bicau&s;e that as the &s;o|lide bodie of the Lion is powerfull: &s;o e&s;peciallie con&s;i&s;teth great &s;trengthe and power in his taile.</P>
<P>We doubt not but this aduer&s;arie, or <HI>Apollyon</HI> of ours of him&s;elfe is mightie, pui&s;&s;ant, &amp; &s;trong enough again&s;te &s;uch faintie cowards, and wilfull &s;lo-backs as we are, yet to make his victorie more &s;ure, and not to faile of his pur|po&s;e, he v&s;eth al&s;o the force of his tayle: that is, his in|thraled bond&s;laues, whom he hath &s;ealed to execute his wil and plea&s;ure vppon the harmele&s;&s;e, which is perfourmed many times diuers and &s;undry waies: neyther dooth he &s;o v&s;ually &s;hew his pollicie, pui&s;&s;ance and power by anye his oficers, as he dooth by &s;ubtle &s;eedemen of fal&s;e doctrine, and inchanting &s;orcerers: the one in &s;tead of in&s;truments to inueigle the mind and &s;oule, the other to a&s;&s;aile the mor|tall bodie, and beguile and intrappe the &s;ences.</P>
<P>I &s;peake nothing of tho&s;e p&s;eudo&s;edmen, but I pur|po&s;e (God willing) to treat of damnable Wytches, of their &s;pight and &s;pelles, odious in the &s;ight of God, dete&s;ted of the good, and mo&s;te hurtfull to them&s;elues, manife&s;ting what power and preminence through Gods permi&s;&s;ion, that Father of &s;inne Sathan hath ouer &s;infull worldlings.</P>
<P>About Shrouetide la&s;t, one <HI>Richard Burt,</HI> &s;eruant to a Gentleman, named M. <HI>Edling,</HI> dwelling at <HI>Woodhall</HI> in the pari&s;he of <HI>Pinner</HI> in <HI>Middle&s;ex,</HI> a myle beyond <HI>Har|row</HI> on the <HI>Hill,</HI> going to his may&s;ters Barne, &s;tanding at the Townes ende, accompanied with a great ma&s;tiue dogge, &s;uddenly e&s;pied an Hare &s;tart before him, and thin|king to haue &s;et his dogge at her, mi&s;&s;ed of his purpo&s;e: for the dogge not onely refu&s;ed to follow, but in &s;tead of follo|wing began to faint, and runne rounde about his mai&s;ter,
<PB N="3" REF="3"> and to whine pittifully, as who &s;houlde &s;ay that kinde of game was not for them: The man taking heartie grace him&s;elfe, followed &s;o nighe, that he &s;aw her take in at one Mother <HI>Atkyns</HI> hou&s;e, whome before that time he knew to be a notorious witch: Wherevpon ble&s;&s;ing him&s;elfe, &amp; mindful of the name of God, he boldly &s;aid, auant witch.</P>
<P>This was the fir&s;t occa&s;ion (namely the tearming of hir a with) of al poore <HI>Richard Burts</HI> future tragedie:<NOTE PLACE="marg">Vn&s;peaka|ble is the malice of a wicked wo|man.</NOTE> but to go forward. It hapned the &s;aid <HI>Richard Burt</HI> a month after, m&eacute;eting hir n&eacute;ere to his mai&s;ters barne, and giuing hir the time of the daye, like a peruer&s;e woman, like a perillous wa&s;pe, like a pe&s;tiferous witch, incen&s;ed with hate at the &s;ight of him held downe hir head, not daigning to &s;peake.</P>
<P>The next day which was on wedne&s;day the 8. of march going againe to his mai&s;ters barne to thra&s;h, &amp; &s;erue cer|taine bea&s;ts, bicau&s;e he would not trudge too and fro for letting his work, carried his dinner with him, which was bread, butter, chee&s;e and applepy, &amp; a bottle of the be&s;t b&eacute;er: being come to the barne he laide his proui&s;ion, and &s;etled clo&s;e to his bu&s;ines, labouring hard til twelue of the clock, at which time hunger a&s;&s;ailing and cu&s;tome preuailing, he went to dinner, wherin he had not long continued, but ther was oppo&s;ite to his view a mon&s;trous blacke Cat among the &s;traw, which began to &s;hake the &s;trawe, and to make a wad thereof. The fellow being aga&s;t &s;tart vp with his ap|plepie in his hande (for it had byn pittie a poore hungrie thre&s;her &s;hould haue lo&s;t &s;o good a repa&s;t) &s;uddenly hearing a voice that commanded him, come away: Away quod he, whither &s;hal <HI>I</HI> come? The &s;pirit an&s;wering againe, &s;ayde: Come and leaue thy vittels behind th&eacute;e and thy knife al&s;o. Poore &s;implicity keeping his applepy &s;til in his hand, came to the barne dore, where &s;uddenly hee was hoi&s;ed vp into the aire, and carried ouer many fields, by the way e&s;pyeng his mai. plow a plowing, but not able to cal vnto them, al|though he &s;&eacute;emed to haue his memorie mo&s;t perfect: thence pa&s;&s;ing ouer to Harrow, where on the &s;ide of the hill there
<PB N="4" REF="4"> is a greate ponde was drawne thrugh it, &amp; ther left his hat which was a token of that torture) becau&s;e he could &s;tay in no place, but was violentlie rapt vp the hiil, and ouer the tops of the trees at Harrow Church, &s;o farre he ab&s;olutelie remembreth, but being haled further, he was taken (as he &s;eemeth) into a place which was all fire, where was heard &s;uch lamentable howling and dolefull crieng, as if all the damned fiends of hell had b&eacute;ene tortured, and tormenten in that Limbo.</P>
<P>You heare into how &s;trange and pa&s;&s;ionate a place this <HI>Richard Burt</HI> was tran&s;lated, now it remaineth to &s;hewe with what Symtomes the place was furni&s;hed.</P>
<P>Fir&s;t therefore (he affirmeth) it was exceeding hot, re|pleni&s;hed with more than Cymmerian darkene&s;&s;e, plenti|ful in filthy odors and &s;tinches, ful of noi&s;e and clamours, in&s;omuch that hee &s;eemed to heare infinite millions of di&s;|crepant noi&s;es, but &s;aw nothing &s;aue onelie the fire which cau&s;ed &s;uch an vnquenchable drouth in his &s;tomache, that pre&s;entlie minding a pennie hee had in his pur&s;e: looked round about for an Alehou&s;e where he might &s;pend it.</P>
<P>Hearing therefore the&s;e fore&s;aid voices, and thinking &s;ome of them had &s;pake vnto him, he an&s;werd &s;ayeng, heer is no worke for me to doo: immediatlie it was rean&s;we|red, coa&s;t away with him, but with this proui&s;o thou pa&s;|&s;e&s;t, that thou be &s;ecret, and &s;ay nothing when thou com|mo&s;t home: but he replied, and &s;aid, my mai&s;ter will a&s;ke me where I haue beene: with that he was not &s;uffered to &s;peak any further, but his toong was doubled in his mouth, his legs burnt, hands and armes &s;corched, his coat pincht of his backe, and throwne into the fire, immediatly &s;oring ouer hedges and ditches, &s;ow&s;ed in mire and durt, &s;cratched with thornes and briers, &s;o &s;inged and di&s;figured, that it is both lamentable and terrible to behold him.</P>
<P>Being brought againe to <HI>Pinner</HI> where his May&s;ter doth dwell, he fir&s;t repaired to a ditch to drinke, and after|wards
<PB N="5" REF="4"> in this pickle vi&s;ited one of his acquaintance, whoe &s;ometime &s;erued <HI>M. Edling</HI> al&s;o: but whether hee &s;orted thither for that his friends hou&s;e was nighe&s;t, or would not go home for &s;hame that hee had b&eacute;ene ab&s;ent foure whole daies togither, I cannot &s;hew you: Onlie this, being &s;un|day morning his mai&s;ter chanced (as his cu&s;tome was to pa&s;&s;e by that way to Church at the &s;ame in&s;tant, whoe not knowing poore <HI>Richard Burt</HI> his lo&s;t &s;heepe, demanded of his quondam &s;eruant if he had gotten him a man: a man &s;ir quod he, why it is your man <HI>Richard:</HI> my man quoth the Gentlenian, that cannot bee, and therewithall beeing halfe amazed made a pau&s;e and earne&s;tlie b<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">held him, at length willing him in the name of God to tel where he had bin though he could not &s;peake, yet hauing memory made &s;ignes and euermore pointed toward the hou&s;e where mo|ther <HI>Atkins</HI> did dwell, looking &s;o gri&s;lie and fiercelie that waie, that he tore and rent al that came in his hands.</P>
<P>In the meane while it was thought requi&s;ite,<NOTE PLACE="marg">The dutie of a good mini&s;ter.</NOTE> that the Par&s;on of the towne named <HI>M. Smith,</HI> and mai. <HI>Burbridge</HI> of Pinner parke gentleman &s;hould be &s;ent for, whoe com|ming to the dumbe man and pittieng his plight, the Par|&s;on charitably and like him&s;elfe laboured about him, wrin|ched open his teeth got open his mouth, indented his fin|ger vnder his toong, and with much adoo got it vnfoulded, the fir&s;t wordes he &s;pake were the&s;e: Woe worth mother <HI>Atkins,</HI> woe worth mother <HI>Atkins,</HI> for &s;he hath bewitched me: whervpon he would not be quiet, but euer reque&s;ted that he might &s;peak with hir.</P>
<P>Mai&s;ter <HI>Burbidge</HI> and M. <HI>Smith</HI> cau&s;ed hir to bee &s;ent for, who being pre&s;ent, he neuer cea&s;ed til he had &s;cratched and drawne bloud on hir, per&s;wading him&s;elfe that was a remedy &s;ufficient vnder God, that would make him well: neither was it or is it any Capital error, experience te&s;ty|fies: for &s;ince that he hath mended rea&s;onablie, and nowe goeth to the Church.</P>
<PB N="6" REF="5">
<P>Thus haue you heard briefly the cares and cro&s;&s;es, that poore <HI>Richard Burt</HI> &s;u&s;tained (as they &s;ay) in <HI>&s;ummo gra|du,</HI> the eighth, the ninth, tenth and eleuenth daies of march la&s;t pa&s;t, what time hee was ab&s;ent from his mai&s;ter the fore&s;aid whole daies, and v&s;ed (as ye haue heard) after the fore&s;aid manner.</P>
<P>Thus then leaue we <HI>Richard Burt,</HI> but with mother <HI>Atkins</HI> we mu&s;t pro&s;ecute a little further.</P>
<P>It is credibly reported in <HI>Pinner,</HI> that the &s;aide mother <HI>Atkins</HI> on a time re&s;orting to the hou&s;e of M. <HI>Burbidge</HI> for milke (at what time the maids were bu&s;ie at the dairy and not obtaining hir de&s;ire, immediatly vpon hir departure out of doores, the Creame beganne to &s;wel and ri&s;e in the cherne,<NOTE PLACE="marg">Witches ar the mo&s;te vnprofita+ble erraturs in the world.</NOTE> that it bur&s;t open the top of the Cherne, and runne about the kitchen and forth at the &s;inke-hole, and all their hu&s;wiferie for that day went to wracke, that al was quite lo&s;t, and nothing could po&s;&s;iblie be well ordered. O rebels towards God: enemies to mankinde: catterpillers of a common wealth, the fire is too good to con&s;ume them.</P>
<P>Many and &s;undry like actions of extreame rage and cru|eltie are imputed to her, only we will conclude, and &s;hut vp the&s;e clau&s;es, with this that followeth.</P>
<P>Not long &s;ince the forenamed witch entring the grou~d of one <HI>Gregorie Coul&s;on,</HI> to craue &s;ome releefe (for &s;he ly|ueth of almes, and good peoples charitie) &s;he found him bu|&s;ilie imploied about &s;ome countrie affaires, Radling hys lambs (<HI>I</HI> thinke it was) and framing hir petition to him, becau&s;e he did not &s;traight waie leaue al and accompli&s;h it &s;he flung forth in a fume: But it was not longe after her departure, but he had fini&s;hed his labour al&s;o, and letting forth two Lambs into a yard, &s;uddenly they began &s;o nim|bly to &s;kip and fri&s;ke to and fro, that they neuer cea&s;ed af|ter til they died.</P>
</DIV1>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
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