The Witches and the High-Court Judge

I promised some Magickally-talented friends that I would make a "helping spell" in the ongoing hex against Judge Kavanaugh. Here is my modest effort, based on a 1609 poem by Ben Jonson.

THE WITCHES AND THE HIGH-COURT JUDGE

by Brett Rutherford

after Ben Jonson


WITCH 1
I have been all day looking after
a Funnel for His Fundament,
for he is like to Bouffe a Biere
as to pour it in his gullet.

WITCH 2
I have been gathering wolves’ haires,
The madd dogges foames, and adders’ eares,
to hie me to the Brewerie
and mix them in his favor’d Bieres.

WITCH 3
I last night lay all lone,
on the ground to hear the Mandrake groan,
and plucked him, to make a Dolle
that hath no Manhood on it, None at all.

WITCH 4
And I ha’ been choosing out this Skull,
from Charnel Houses that were full
and I shall make a Lykeness Doll
that screameth, “I am a Man of  Yale!”

WITCH 5
Under a cradle I did crepe
By day; and when the childe was a-sleepe,
I marked it with the will to tell
That he would four times eff with her anon.

WITCH 6
I had a dagger: what did I with that?
Killed an infant to have his fat.
I’ll carve his name along the blade,
and hope he finds it, nick of time.

WITCH 7
A murderer, yonder, was hung in chaines;
The sun and the wind had shrunk his veins.
A strip of flesh I’ll offer him up, a rag
from the convict to replace his robes.

WITCH 8
The screech-owl’s eggs and the feathers black,
The blood of the frog and the bone in his back
I have been getting. We’ll make him drink
ere that we walk him to the Devil’s Train.

WITCH 9
And I have been plucking (plants among)
hemlock, henbane, adders-tongue.
If he be ever so fond of an Ale,
we shall wizen his innards, head to tail.

WITCH 10
I crept back in a house again, I killed
the black cat, and here is the brain.
Once he has tasted this, his memory
will never again be quite the same.

WITCH 11
I scratched out the eyes of the owl before;
I tore the bat’s wing: what would you have more?
His robe will leap up, so he canna’ see.
If Justice be blind, he blinded must be.


DAME
All, gather all, and bringe him hence.
With him bent o’er, we’ll funnel him
all full of poppy and cypress juice.
All, add the ingredients, all.
There is a mile of intestines to fill.

And while we are here, let every orifice
serve as our Devil’s Treize-Angle.
Into each ear a hornet’s nest I’ll stuff.
Here, sister, is dung well dried
that will cling to his nose-hairs petrified.

That termite nest, well-greas’d by Toads
will just about fill his booming maw.
What judgments he’ll pass! What Odes
he will sing to his clerks and aides!
Not a word he says will be understood.

And as for that Implement he lov’d,
the Mighty Handful, Marriage-Plowe,
we’ll wrap it now in briars. What fun
each time he looks in lust at a maid!

And last and most, ye Coven hags,
be comforted to know he loveth Biere.
Biere that every barmaid and man
shall be compelled to pisse-anoint,
Biere that shall bloat his ulcer-belly,
Biere that shall pass like vinegar a-boil
through his thorn-wrapped passage.

CHORUS
The four-times Eff that thou hast done
shall now be done to thee.

Thus Witches Twelve, unnamèd  We,
shall run a Train on Thee.

Subjects: Witchcraft, Supreme Court, Kavanaugh, witches, hex, Ben Jonson