now so light that he did not weigh six pounds: "sometimes
light as a Feather-Boulster, but before he came out heavier than a Load of
Corn," says a husbandman; "as light as a Chip, and as heavy as a horse,"
says a carpenter: and he had fits of leaping, as fast as a man could
count; and he would dance on his toes and his knees, with marvellous
agility--dance more quickly than ordinary men, not possessed, could do on
their honest feet; then he would lie as if dead; or he would gape and
snatch with his mouth, catching at flies; and he had noises in his mouth
and breast, as if a family of young whelps were lapping, snarling, or
sucking in his inside; and he rolled up his tongue into a lump and turned
his eyes inward; and talked gibberish, which some one said was Latin; and
played with rushes as if they had been dice and bowls. "And when he had
thrown the 'Jack,' he said, 'I must now throw my Gill;' then running a
good way, as if he had been running after a bowl, swearing, 'Run, Run,
Flee, Flee, Hold a Biass;' and sometimes he catched up rushes, as if they
had been bowls, swearing, 'Sirrah, stand out of the Way, or I'll knock out
your Brains,' adding, 'I never was a Bowler, But don't Gentlemen do
thus?'" which is scarcely evidence to us that he was possessed, or in any
abnormal condition whatsoever. Neither was his habit of swearing and
cursing, "so that he would have affrighted ordinary men," any very
distinct sign of supernaturalism; nor yet his insolence in saying to Mr.
Carrington, who had adjured the devil in him mightily, "Thou shalt be
Porter of Hell-Gates, Thou'st have Brewis and Toad Broath." Any bold-faced
lad of eighteen might have said the same under cover of what he chose to
call a fit. And as for the strange swelling, as big as a turkey's egg,
which ran like a mouse about his body, whatever in that account was
naturally impossible was either trick on his part, or self-deception on
the part of those who gave their testimony. Besides, they were all
inclined to believe. Why, John Fletcher, who slept one night with
Richard, and felt something come up towards his knees, creeping higher and
higher till it got to his heart--something about the bigness of a little
cat or dog, which when he thought to catch "slipped through his hands like
a Snig"--even that most unterrifying occurrence was transformed into a
demoniacal visitant, and the thing that slipped through John Fletcher's
hands like a snig was no other than Richard D