Transcriber's note: In this passage, a "pious Trooper"---that is, a soldier in Oliver Cromwell's Parliamentary cavalry---named Kill-sin Buffet-the-Beast is in the middle of what seems to be a two-hour-plus sermon to the Puritan congregation of St. Dunstan-in-the-West Church, Fleet Street, London, in the year 1651. What follows is the tale of a Faustian bargain, with a pronounced Puritan twist. Note that the Devil in this story is dressed as a Quaker.
"... But why talk I to you, Sirs, about Saartan [Satan], seeing that ye be not ignorant of his devices? but ye cannot know him so well as I do, my Masters, for I have seen him !"
"O-h-h-h!" groaned the Congregation and Clerk.
"Aye, I have seen him! Ye unbelievers, wonder as ye will; but I can tell you the when, and where, and how! And then he that won't believe me's a nullifidian [atheist, unbeliever], and I give him over to Apollyon
The terms Abbadon (Hebrew) and Apollyon (Greek) appear in the Bible as both a place of destruction and an angel of the abyss. (Wikipedia) to be his kettle-drum! You're all pricking up your ears for a story. I dare say, but I'll tell you what, Sirs, you shouldn't have it, only that you may know Saartan when you see him next time.
"It chanced that some ten years ago, I did journey to America with other godly professors, and tarried there many days. Now it came to pass, that the part in which I sojourned was named Weathersfield, which, albeit it is situate nigh unto a godly community called Salem, is much infested by pestilent witches, who hold their Devil's Sabbaths every Friday. Truly, Sirs, America is Saartan's country-house, as London is his town one: and how many of the people in both be his own dear children and worthiest of lacqueys!"
"Oh-h-h!" groaned the Congregation and Clerk.
"Now in Weathersfield there was a man of America named Cobus Kaatskill, one of desperate poverty, Sirs, and he was inveigled over between the witches and their master to sign away his soul for a huge portion of gold! As if any thing after that could make him rich! Oh! my Masters, if you have stricken hands with him, fly his colours instantly! Or rather, never enlist yourselves in the Devil's troop, for any bounty-money that he can offer you; for his best coin is but a nothing between two dishes, and to the back of that I can tell you, that it's all light weight and won't go.
"Well, Sirs, the money was paid, and the quittance given; but every penny of it burned the sinner to the bone, and festered upon his conscience: so that the richest man in America was the saddest. He carried back the gold to the witch who had been his money-lender, but there was no breaking a stricken bargain; and Kaatskill was ready to go mad out of very fear. But, here, my Masters, see a shrewd wit; he bethought him of going to our pastor, Hopeful Clawthedeil, and putting his case into his hands.
"Not to be wearisome on this point, as I have other topics to enlarge upon; a fast-day was set, and the brethren met and exercised with fervour from the rising until the setting of the sun; when lo, even at the twilight, a Quaker in a black dress walked into the Chapel, laid the man's bond upon Clawthedeil's pulpit, and then, without saying a word, leaped suddenly out of the window!"
It is not possible to set down the prolonged hum which attended the conclusion of this narrative; and they who carried away no part of the good advice Buffet-the-Beast had given them, failed not to remember his illustrations, especially that which is here inserted.
List of Selected Stories from Tales of An Antiquary, Volume 2
Annotations by Nina Zumel