Corey.

I must speak the truth;

I did not tell her. It was some one else.
Hathorne. Did you not say your husband told you so!'
How dare you tell a lie in this assembly?
Who told you of the clothes?

Confess the truth.

(MARTHA bites her lips, and is silent.)
You bite your lips, but do not answer me!
Mary. Ah, she is biting me! Avoid, avoid!
Hathorne. You said your husband told you.
Martha.

The Children said I troubled them.
Hathorne.

Why do you trouble them?

Martha.

Yes, he told me

Then tell me

I have denied it.

Mary. She threatened me; stabbed at me with her spindle; And, when my brother thrust her with his sword,

He tore her gown, and cut a piece away.

Here are they both, the spindle and the cloth. [Shows them.
Hathorne. And there are persons here who know the truth
Of what has now been said. What answer make you?
Give me leave to pray.

Martha. I make no answer.
Hathorne. Whom would you
Martha.

Hathorne. Who is your God and Father ?
Martha.

The Almighty!
Hathorne. Doth he you pray to say that he is God?
It is the Prince of Darkness, and not God.

Mary. There is a dark shape whispering in her ear.
Hathorne. What does he say to you?
Martha.

I see no shape.

Hathorne. Did you not hear it whisper ?
Martha.

I heard nothing.

Mary. What torture! Ah, what agony I suffer!

(Falls into a swoon.)

Hathorne. You see this woman cannot stand before you. If you would look for mercy, you must look

In God s way, by confession of your guilt.

Why does your spectre haunt and hurt this person?

Martha. I do not know. He who appeared of old

In Samuel's shape, a saint and glorified,

May come in whatsoever shape he chooses.

I cannot help it. I am sick at heart!

Corey. O Martha, Martha! let me hold your hand.
Hathorne. No; stand aside, old man.
Mary (starting up).

I see a little bird, a yellow bird,

Look there! Look there!

Perched on her finger; and it pecks at me.
Ah, it will tear mine eyes out!

Martha.

I see nothing.

Hathorne. 'Tis the Familiar Spirit that attends her.

Mary. Now it has flown away. It sits up there

Upon the rafters. It is gone; is vanished.

Martha. Giles, wipe these tears of anger from mine eyes. Wipe the sweat from my forehead. I am faint.

(She leans against the railing.)

Mary. Oh, she is crushing me with all her weight! Hathorne. Did you not carry once the Devil's Book To this young woman?

Martha.

Hathorne.

Or touched it?

Martha.

Never.

Have you signed it,

No; I never saw it.

Hathorne. Did you not scourge her with an iron rod ?
Martha. No, I do not. If any Evil Spirit

Has taken my shape to do these evil deeds,

I cannot help it. I am innocent.

Hathorne. Did you not say the Magistrates were blind ?

That you would open their eyes?

Martha (with a scornful laugh). Yes, I said that;

If you call me a sorceress, you are blind!

If you accuse the innocent, you are blind!

Can the innocent be guilty?

Hathorne.
Did you not
On one occasion hide your husband's saddle
To hinder him from coming to the Sessions?
Martha. I thought it was a folly in a farmer

To waste his time pursuing such illusions.

Hathorne. What was the bird that this young woman saw Just now upon your hand?

Martha.

I know no bird.

Hathorne. Have you not dealt with a familiar spirit?

Martha. No, never, never!

Hathorne.

What then was the Ecok

You showed to this young woman, and besought her

Martha. No, I cannot, for I am innocent

Hathorne. We have the proof of many witnesses

That you are guilty.

Martha.

Give me leave to speak.

Will you condemn me on such evidence,—
You who have known me for so many years?
Will you condemn me in this house of God,
Where I so long have worshipped with you all?
Where I have eaten the bread and drunk the wine
So many times at our Lord's Table with you?
Bear witness, you that hear me; you all know
That I have lead a blameless life among you,
That never any whisper of suspicion

Was breathed against me till this accusation.
And shall this count for nothing? Will you take
My life away from me, because this girl,

Who is distraught, and not in her right mind,

Accuses me of things I blush to name ?

Hathorne. What! is it not enough? Would you hear more? Giles Corey!

Corey.
Hathorne.

I am here.

Come forward then.

(COREY ascends the platform.)

Is it not true, that on a certain night

You were impeded strangely in your prayers?
That something hindered you? and that you left
This woman here, your wife, kneeling alone
Upon the hearth?

Corey.

Yes! I cannot deny it.

Hathorne. Did you not say the Devil hindered you?
Corey. I think I said some words to that effect.

Hathorne. Is it not true, that fourteen head of cattle,

To you belonging, broke from their enclosure

And leaped into the river, and were drowned ?

Corey. It is most true.

Hathorne.

And did you not then say

So much I said.

That they were over-looked?

Corey.

I see; they're drawing round me closer, closer,
A net I cannot break, cannot escape from! (Aside.)
Hathorne. Who did these things?
Corey.
I do not know who did them.
Hathorne. Then I will tell you. It is some one near you;
You see her now; this woman, your own wife.

Corey. I call the heavens to witness, it is false!

She never harmed me, never hindered me

In anything but what I should not do.

And I bear witness in the sight of heaven,

And in God's house here, that I never knew her
As otherwise than patient, brave, and true,

Faithful, forgiving, full of charity,

A virtuous and industrious and good wife !

Hathorne. Tut, tut, man; do not rant so in your speech;

You are a witness, not an advocate;

Here, Sheriff, take this woman back to prison.
Martha. O Giles, this day you've sworn away my life!
Mary. Go, go and join the Witches at the door.
Do you not hear the drum? Do you not see them?
Go quick. They're waiting for you. You are late.

[Exit MARTHA; COREY following.

Corey. The dream! the dream! the dream!
Hathorne.

What does he say?

Giles Corey, go not hence. You are yourself
Accused of Witchcraft and of Sorcery

By many witnesses. Say, are you guilty?

Corey. I know my death is fore-ordained by you,-
Mine and my wife's. Therefore I will not answer.
(During the rest of the scene he remains silent.)
Hathorne. Do you refuse to plead ?--'Twere better for yon
To make confession, or to plead Not Guilty.—
Do you not hear me?—Answer, are you guilty ?
Do you not know a heavier doom awaits you,
If you refuse to plead, than if found guilty?
Where is John Gloyd ?

Gloyd (coming forward). Here am I.
Hathorne.

Tell the Court;

Have you not seen the supernatural power
Of this old man? Have you not seen him do
Strange feats of strength?

Gloyd.

I've seen him lead the field,

On a hot day, in mowing, and against

Us younger men; and I have wrestled with him.

He threw me like a feather. I have seen him

Lift up a barrel with his single hands,

Which two strong men could hardly lift together,

And, holding it above his head, drink from it.

Hathorne. That is enough; we need not question further, What answer do you make to this, Giles Corey ?

Mary. See there! See there!

Hathorne.

What is it? I see nothing.

Mary. Look! Look! It is the ghost of Robert Goodell, Whom fifteen years ago this man did murder.

By stamping on his body! In his shroud

He comes here to bear witness to the crime!

(The crowd shrink back from COREY in horror.)

Hathorne. Ghosts of the dead and voices of the living Bear witness to your guilt, and you must die!

It might have been an easier death. Your doom

Will be on your own head, and not on ours.

Twice more will you be questioned of these things;
Twice more have room to plead or to confess.
If you are contumacious to the Court,

And, if when questioned, you refuse to answer,
Then by the Statute you will be condemned
To the peine forte et dure! To have your body
Pressed by great weights until you shall be dead!
And may the Lord have mercy on your soul!

ACT V.

SCENE I. COREY's farm as in Act II. Scene 1. Enter RICHARD
GARDNER, looking round him.

Gardner. Here stands the house as I remember it,
The four tall poplar-trees before the door;
The house, the barn, the orchard, and the well,
With its moss-covered bucket and its trough!
The garden, with its hedge of currant-bushes;
The woods, the harvest-fields; and, far beyond,
The pleasant landscape stretching to the sea.
But everything is silent and deserted!
No bleat of flocks, no bellowing of herds,

No sound of flails, that should be beating now;

Nor man nor beast astir. What can this mean? [Knocks at door. What ho! Giles Corey! Hillo-ho! Giles Corey!—

No answer but the echo from the barn,

And the ill-omened cawing of the crow

That yonder wings his flight across the fields

As if he scented carrion in the air.

(Enter TITUBA with a bask

What woman's this, that, like an apparition,
Haunts this deserted homestead in broad day?
Woman, who are you?

I am John Indian's wife. I am a Witch.

Gardner. What are you doing here?
Tituba.

I'm gathering herbs,

Cinquefoil, and saxifrage, and pennyroyal.

Gardner (looking at the herbs). This is not cinquefoil, it is

deadly nightshade!

This is not saxifrage, but hellebore!

This is not pennyroyal, it is henbane!

Do you come here to poison these good people?

Tituba. I get these for the Doctor in the Village.

Beware of Tituba. I pinch the children;

Make little poppets and stick pins in them,

And then the children cry out they are pricked.

The Black Dog came to me, and said, "Serve me!"

I was afraid. He made me hurt the children.

Gardner. Poor soul! She's crazed, with all these Devil's doings.
Tituba. Will you, sir, sign the Book?
Gardner.

No, I'll not sign it.