Cantrip

Coffins stood round, like open presses, That shaw’d the dead in their last dresses; And by some devilish cantrip slight Each in its cauld hand held a light […]

I have some poor little skill—not like yours, Master Doctor, of course—in small spells and cantrips that I’d be glad to use against our enemies if it was agreeable to all concerned.

For one thing, I've no intention of distributing cantrips and costly crucifixes to every rapable woman in the Parish of St Magloire.

And when I say now the power of the name Jesus makes you whole, I indulge in no petty mountebank’s cantrips.

But it sounds to me like you're in a totally different category. Not garden-variety cantrip stuff.