George Giffard, A Dialogue concerning witches and witchcrafts (1603).

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This is the closing section of the dialogue. The speakers are designated at the opening as: "Samuel; Daniel; The wife of Samuel; M. B. schoole-maister; The goodwife R." The conversation takes place in Samuel's house. Daniel is the author's mouthpiece (note the Biblical association of his name with good judgement). Throughout, he urges his main interlocutor, M.B. the schoolmaster, to believe that the Devil operates through witches and cunning folk alike, and for the same motive: by guile, to convince people of his power, and lead them into sinful acts. Witches in their malefice, Daniel contends throughout, are merely the victims of the devil's delusions. They cannot send their spirits to do harm, as only God can allow the devil to act, as the instrument of His punishment of human sins. For mysterious reasons of His own, God may make the virtuous suffer. The devil can also win people to belief in his illusions through his superior awareness of human ailments, and thereby convince witches that a natural illness is the product of their spells. The devil triumphs when jurymen sentence an innocent to hang, on the basis of accusations by those who have been convinced by (diabolically inspired) cunning folk, or by the confessions of witches deluded by the wiles of the devil into believing that they have performed acts of malefice. M. B. is slowly won over to conceding this point-of-view, to his distress, for he testifies to occasions when he has been part of such juries that have sentenced witches to death.

Daniel. ... The only way for men that will eschew the snares and subtilties of the devill and all harmes by him, is this, even to heare the voyce of God, to be taught of him by his livel;y word which is full of pure light to discover and expel the darke mistes of Satan, in which he leadeth men out of the way: and to be armes with faith to resist him, as the holy Apostle S. Peter willeth, so such as doe forsake this way are seduced into grosse errors and into many abominable sinnes, which carrie men to destruction. I must now bidde you farewell.

M.B. I could bee content to heare more in these matters, I see how fondly I have erred. But seeing you must be gone, I hope we shall meete here againe at some other time; God keepe you!

Samuel. I am bound to give you great thankes. And I pray you, when occasion serveth, that you come this way, let us see you at my house.

M.B. I thought there had not been such subtill practises of the devill, nor so great sinnes as he leadeth men into.

Samuel. It is strange to see how many thousands are carried awry and deceived, yea many that are very wise men.

M.B. The devill is too craftie for the wisest, unlesse they have the light of Gods word.

The wife of Samuel. Husband, yonder commeth the goood wife R.

Samuel. I would she had come sooner.

The good wife R. Ho, who is within, by your leave?

The wife of Samuel. I would you had come a little sooner, here was one even now that said you are a witch.

The good wife R. Was there one said I am a witch? you doe but jest.

The wife of Samuel. Nay, I promise you hee was in good earnest.

The good wife R. I a witch? I defie him that saith it, though he be a lord. I would all the witches in the land were hanged, and their spirits by them.

M.B. Would not you be glad if their spirits were hanged up with them to have a gown furred with some of their skinnes?

The good wife R. Out upon them, there were furre!

Samuel. Wife, why diddest thou say that hee said the good wife R. is a witch? he did not say so.

The wife of Samuel. Husband, I did marke his words well enough, he said she is a witch.

Samuel. He doth not know her, and how could he say she is a witch?

The wife of Samuel. What though he did not know her? did hee not say she played the witch that het the spit red hot, and thrust it into her creame, when the butter would not come?

Samuel. Indeede, wife, thou saist true, he said that was a thing taught by the devill, as also the burning of an henne, or of an hogge alive, and all such like devices.

The good wife R. Is that witchcraft? Some Scripture man hath tolde you so. Did the divell teach it? Nay, the good woman at R. H. taught it my husband: she doth more good in one yeere then all these Scripture men will doe so long as they live.

M.B. Who doe you thinke taught it the cunning woman at R. H.?

The good wife R. It is a gift which God hath given her. I thinke the Holy Spirit of God doth teach her.

M.B. You doe not think then that the divell doth teach her.

The good wife R. How should I thinke that the divell doth teach her? Did you ever heare that the devill did teach any good thing?

M.B. Doe you know that was a good thing?

The good wife R. Was it not a good thing to drive the evill spirit out of my creame?

M.B. Do you thinke the devill was afraid of your spit?

The good wife R. I know he was driven away, and we have been rid of him ever since.

M.B. Can a spit hurt him?

The good wife R. It doth hurt him, or it hurteth the witch: one of them I am sure: for he commeth no more. Either she can get him come no more, because it hurteth him: or else she will let him come no more, because it hurteth her.

M.B. It is certaine that spirits cannot be hurt but with spirituall weapons: therefore your spit cannot fray nor hurt the devill. And how can it hurt the witch, you did not thinke she was in your creame, did you?

The good wife R. Some thinke she is there, and therfore when they thrust in the spit they say: If thou beest here have at thine eye!

M.B. If she were in your creame, your butter was not very cleanly.

The good wife R. You are merrily disposed, M.B., I know you are of my mind, though you put these questions to me. For I am sure none of you hath counselled more to goe to the cunning folk then you.

M.B. I was of your minde, but I am not now, for I see how foolish I was. I am sorie that ever I offended so grievously as to counsaile any for to seeke unto divels.

The good wife R. Why, M.B., who hath schooled you to day? I am sure you were of another mind no longer agone then yesterday.

The wife of Samuel. Truly, good wife R., I thinke my husband is turned also: here hath been one reasoning with them three or foure houres.

The good wife R. Is your husband turned too? I would you might lose all your hens one after another, and then I would she would set her spirit upon your ducks and your geese, and leave you not one alive. Will you come to defend witches?

M.B. We doe not defend witches.

The good wife R. Yes, yes, there be too many that take their part; I would they might witch some of them even into hell, to teach others to defend them. And you, M.B., I would your nagge might hault a little one of these daies: see whether you would not be glad to seek helpe.

M.B. I would seek helpe, I would carrie him to the smith to search if he were not pricked or graveld.

The good wife R. Tush, you laugh: if you were plagued as some are, you would not make so light account of it.

M.B. You thinke the divell can kill mens cattell, and lame both man and beast at his pleasure: you thinke that if the witch intreate him and send him he will goe, and if she will not have him go, he will not meddle. And you thinke when he doth come, you can drive him away with an hot spitte, or with burning a live henne or a pigge.

The good wife R. Never tell me I thinke so, for you your selfe have thought so: and let them say what they can, all the Scripture men in the world shall never perswade me otherwise.

M.B. I doe wonder, not so much at your ignorance as at this, that I was ever of the same minde that you are, and could not see mine owne follie.

The good wife R. Follie? how wise you are become of a sudden? I know that their spirits lie lurking, for they foster them: and when any bodie hath angred them, then they call them foorth and send them. And looke what they bid them do, or hire them to do, that shall be done: as when she is angrie, the spirit will aske her what shall I doe? Such am man hath misused me, saith she, goe and kill his cow; by and by he goeth and doth it. Go kill a womans hens; downe goe they. And some of them are not content to do thes lesser harmes, but they will say, goe make such a man lame, kill him, or kill his child. then they be happie that can learne to drive them away.

M.B. If I should reason with you out of the word of God, you should see that al this is false which you say. The divell cannot kill not hurt any thing, no not so much as a poor henne. If he had power, who can escape him? Would he tarrie to be sent or intreated by a woman? he is a stirrer up unto al harmes and mischiefs.

The good wife R. What tell you me of Gods word? Doth not Gods word say there be witches, and doe not you thinke God doth suffer bad people? Are you a turn coate? Fare you well, I will no longer talke with you.

M.B. She is wifull indeede. I will leave you also.

Samuel. I thanke you for your companie.

FINIS

Several things are interesting here. The dialogue is well-handled, in bringing in the fiery character of the goodwife R. at the end, Giffard injects some drama into his conscientious pamphlet. The good wife R. sturdily believes in having recourse to cunning folk, M.B. has just been persuaded, counter to his prior opinions, that the cunning folk are merely the vehicles of diabolic deception and enticement. Samuel's wife, present throughout the dialogue, has any only gathered so much as to say that Daniel had effectively accused the good wife R. of something like witchcraft (Daniel did equate cunning folk - and their clients - with the similarly deceived witches, as victims of diabolical delusion. M.B., catechised by Daniel, gets nowhere with the good wife. Her scorn for 'scripture men' characterises her superstition and entrenched opinions. M.B. ends up expressing contempt for women, asking if the devil would really follow the orders of women if he had any real power. They part mutually unilluminated - Daniel can convince a schoolmaster, village women will be harder to persuade.