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diff --git a/17960.txt b/17960.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..599b344 --- /dev/null +++ b/17960.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2984 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Giles Corey, Yeoman, by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Giles Corey, Yeoman + A Play + +Author: Mary E. Wilkins Freeman + +Release Date: March 10, 2006 [EBook #17960] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GILES COREY, YEOMAN *** + + + + +Produced by Jeff Kaylin and Andrew Sly + + + + + + +Giles Corey, Yeoman + +A Play + +By +Mary E. Wilkins + +Illustrated + + +New York +Harper & Brothers Publishers +1893 + + + + +Cast of Characters. + + Giles Corey. + Paul Bayley, _Olive Corey's lover._ + Samuel Parris, _minister in Salem Village._ + John Hathorne, _magistrate._ + Jonathan Corwin, _magistrate._ + Olive Corey, _Giles Corey's daughter._ + Martha Corey, _Giles Corey's wife._ + Ann Hutchins, _Olive's friend and one of the Afflicted Girls._ + Widow Eunice Hutchins, _Ann's mother._ + Phoebe Morse, _little orphan girl, niece to Martha Corey._ + Mercy Lewis, _one of the Afflicted Girls._ + Nancy Fox, _an old serving-woman in Giles Corey's house._ + _Afflicted Girls, Constables, Marshal, People of Salem Village, + Messengers, etc._ + + + + +Act I. + + +Scene I.--_Salem Village. Living-room in_ Giles Corey's _house._ +Olive Corey _is spinning._ Nancy Fox, _the old servant, sits in the +fireplace paring apples. Little_ Phoebe Morse, _on a stool beside +her, is knitting a stocking._ + +_Phoebe_ (_starting_). What is that? Oh, Olive, what is that? + +_Nancy._ Yes, what is that? Massy, what a clatter! + +_Olive_ (_spinning_). I heard naught. Be not so foolish, child. And +you, Nancy, be of a surety old enough to know better. + +_Nancy._ I trow there was a clatter in the chimbly. There 'tis +again! Massy, what a screech! + +_Phoebe_ (_running to_ Olive _and clinging to her_). Oh, Olive, what +is it? what is it? Don't let it catch me. Oh, Olive! + +_Olive._ I tell you 'twas naught. + +_Nancy._ Them that won't hear be deafer than them that's born so. +Massy, what a screech! + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Olive, Olive! Don't let 'em catch me! + +_Olive._ Nobody wants to catch you. Be quiet now, and I'll sing to +you. Then you won't think you hear screeches. + +_Nancy._ We won't, hey? + +_Olive._ Be quiet! This folly hath gone too far. [_Sings spinning +song._ + +SPINNING SONG. + + "I'll tell you a story; a story of one, + 'Twas of a great prince whose name was King John. + A great prince was he, and a man of great might + In putting down wrong and in setting up right. + To my down, down, down, derry down." + +_Nancy._ Massy, what screeches! [_Screams violently._ + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, 'twas you screeched then. + +_Nancy._ It wasn't me; 'twas a witch in the chimbly. (_Screams +again._) There, hear that, will ye? I tell ye 'twa'n't me. I 'ain't +opened my mouth. + +_Olive._ Nancy, I will bear no more of this. If you be not quiet, I +will tell my mother when she comes home. Now, Phoebe, sing the rest +of the song with me, and think no more of such folly. [_Sings with_ +Phoebe. + + "This king, being a mind to make himself merry, + He sent for the Bishop of Canterbury. + 'Good-morning, Mr. Bishop,' the king did say. + 'Have you come here for to live or to die?' + To my down, down, down, derry down. + + "'For if you can't answer to my questions three, + Your head shall be taken from your body; + And if you can't answer unto them all right, + Your head shall be taken from your body quite.' + To my down, down, down, derry down." + +_Nancy_ (_wagging her head in time to the music_). I know some words +that go better with that tune. + +_Phoebe._ What are they? + +_Nancy._ Oh, I'm forbid to tell. + +_Phoebe._ Who forbade you to tell, Nancy? + +_Nancy._ The one who forbade me to tell, forbade me to tell who +told me. + +_Olive._ Don't gossip, or you won't get your stints done before +mother comes home. + +_Phoebe_ (_sulkily_). I won't finish my stint. Aunt Corey set me too +long a stint. I won't. Oh, there she is now! [_Knits busily._ + +_Enter_ Ann Hutchins. + +_Olive_ (_rising_). Well done, Ann. I was but now wishing to see +you. Sit you down and lay off your cloak. Why, how pale you look, +Ann! Are you sick? + +_Ann._ You know best. + +_Olive._ I? Why, what mean you, Ann? + +_Ann._ You know what I mean, in spite of your innocent looks. Oh, +open your eyes wide at me, if you want to! Perhaps you don't know +what makes them bigger and bluer than they used to be. + +_Olive._ Ann! + +_Ann._ Oh, I mean nothing. I am not sick. Something frightened me +as I came through the wood. + +_Olive._ Frightened you! Why, what was it? + +_Phoebe._ Oh, what was it, Ann? + +_Ann._ I know not; something black that hustled quickly by me and +raised a cold wind. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, oh! + +_Olive._ 'Twas a cat or a dog, and your own fear raised the cold +wind. Think no more of it, Ann. Wait a moment while I go to the +north room. I have something to show you. [_Exit_ Olive _with a +candle._ + +_Phoebe._ What said the black thing to you, Ann? + +_Ann._ I know not. + +_Nancy._ Said it not: "Serve me; serve me?" + +_Ann._ I know not. I was deaf with fear. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Ann, did it have horns? + +_Ann._ I tell you I know not. You pester me, child. + +_Phoebe._ Did it have hoofs and a tail? + +_Ann._ Be quiet, I tell you, or I'll cuff your ears. + +_Nancy._ She needn't be so topping. It will be laying in wait for +her when she goes home. I'll warrant it won't let her off so easy. + +_Enter_ Olive, _bringing an embroidered muslin cape. She puts it +gently over_ Ann's _shoulders._ + +_Ann_ (_throwing it off violently_). Oh! oh! Take it away! take it +away! + +_Olive._ Why, Ann, what ails you? + +_Ann._ Take it away, I say! What mean you by your cursed arts? + +_Olive._ Why, Ann! I have been saving a long time to buy it for +you. 'Tis like my last summer's cape that you fancied so much. I +sent by father to Boston for it. + +_Ann._ I need it not. + +_Olive._ I thought 'twould suit well with your green gown. + +_Ann._ 'Twill suit well enough with a green gown, but not with a +sore heart. + +_Nancy._ I miss my guess but it 'll suit well enough with her heart +too. I trow that's as green as her gown; green's the jealous color. + +_Olive._ You be all unstrung by your walk hither through the wood, +Ann. I'll fold the cape up nicely for you, and you can take it when +you go home. And mind you wear it next Sabbath day, sweet. Now I +must to my wheel again, or I shall not finish my stint by nine +o'clock. + +_Ann._ Your looks show that you were up later than nine o'clock +last night. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Ann, did you see the light in the fore room? + +_Ann._ That did I. I stood at my chamber and saw it shine through +the wood. + +_Nancy._ You couldn't see so far without spectacles. + +_Ann._ It blinded me. I could get no sleep. + +_Nancy._ You think your eyes are mighty sharp. Maybe your ears are +too? Maybe you heard 'em kissing at the door when he went home? + +_Olive._ Nancy, be quiet! + +_Nancy._ You needn't color up and shake your head at me, Olive. +They stood kissing there nigh an hour, and he with his arm round her +waist, and she with hers round his neck. They'd kiss, then they'd +eye each other and kiss again. I know I woke up and thought 'twas +Injuns, and I peeked out of my chamber window. Such doings! You'd +ought to have seen 'em, Ann. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, why didn't you wake me up? + +_Olive._ Nancy, I'll have no more of this. + +_Nancy._ That's what she ought to have said last night--hadn't she, +Ann? But she didn't. Oh, I'll warrant she didn't! I know you would, +Ann. + +_Olive._ Nancy! [_A noise is heard outside._ + +_Phoebe._ Oh, what's that noise? What is coming? + +_Enter_ Giles Corey, _panting. He flings the door to violently and +slips the bolt._ + +_Nancy._ Massy! what's after ye? + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Uncle Corey, what's the matter? + +_Giles._ The matter is there be too many evil things abroad +nowadays for a man to be out after nightfall. When things that can +be hit by musket balls lay in wait, old Giles Corey is as brave as +any man; but when it comes to devilish black beasts and black men +that musket balls bound back from--What! you here, Ann Hutchins? +What be you out after dark for? + +_Ann._ I came over to see Olive, Goodman Corey. + +_Giles._ You'd best stayed by your own hearth if you've got one. +Young women have no call to be out gadding after dark in these +times. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Uncle Corey, something did frighten Ann as she came +through the wood. A black beast, with horns and a tail and eyes like +balls of fire, jumped out of the bushes at her, and bade her sign +the book in a dreadful voice. + +_Giles._ What! Was't so, Ann? + +_Ann._ I know not. There was something. + +_Olive_ (_laughing_). 'Twas naught but Ann's own shadow that her +fear gave a voice and a touch to. Say naught to frighten Ann, +father; she is the most timorous maid in Salem Village now. + +_Giles._ There is some wisdom in fear nowadays. You make too light +of it, lass. + +_Olive_ (_laughing_). Nay, father, I'll turn to and hang up my own +shadow in the chimbly-place for a witch, an you say so. + +_Giles._ This be no subject for jest. Said you the black beast +spoke to you, Ann? + +_Ann._ I know not. Once I thought I heard Olive calling. I know not +what I heard. + +_Giles._ You'd best have stayed at home. Where is your mother, +Olive? + +_Olive._ She has gone to Goodwife Bishop's with a basket of eggs. + +_Giles._ Gone three miles to Goodwife Bishop's this time of night? +Is the woman gone out of her senses? + +_Olive._ She is not afraid. + +_Giles._ I'll warrant she is not afraid. So much the worse for her. +Mayhap she's gone riding on a broomstick herself. How is the cat? + +_Olive._ She is better. + +_Giles._ She was taken strangely, if your mother did make light of +it. And the ox, hath he fell down again? + +_Olive._ Not that I have heard. + +_Giles._ The ox was taken strangely, if your mother did pooh at it. +The ox was better when she went out of the yard. + +_Phoebe._ There's Aunt Corey now. Who is she talking to? + +_Enter_ Martha Corey. + +_Phoebe._ Who were you talking to, Aunt Corey? + +_Martha._ Nobody, child. Good-evening, Ann. + +_Phoebe._ I heard you talking to somebody, Aunt Corey. + +_Martha._ Be quiet, child. I was talking to nobody. You hear too +much nowadays. [_Takes off her cloak._ + +_Nancy._ Mayhap she hears more than folk want her to. I heard a +voice too, a gruff voice like a pig's. + +_Giles._ I thought I heard talking too. Who was it, Martha? + +_Martha._ I tell you 'twas no one. Are you all out of your wits? +[_Gets some knitting-work out of a cupboard and seats herself._ + +_Phoebe._ Weren't you afraid coming through the wood, Aunt Corey? + +_Martha_ (_laughing_). Afraid? Why, no, child. Of what should I be +afraid? + +_Giles._ I trow there's plenty to be afraid of. How did you get +home so quick? 'Tis a good three miles to Goody Bishop's. + +_Martha._ I walked at a good speed. + +_Giles._ I thought perhaps you galloped a broomstick. + +_Martha._ Nay, goodman, I know not how to manage such a strange +steed. + +_Giles._ I thought perhaps one had taught you, inasmuch as you have +naught to say against the gentry that ride the broomstick of a +night. + +_Martha._ Fill not the child's head with such folly. How fares your +mother, Ann? + +_Ann._ Well, Goodwife Corey. + +_Giles._ She lacks sense, or she would have kept her daughter at +home. Out after nightfall, and the woods full of the devil knoweth +what. + +_Martha._ Nay, goodman, there be no danger. The scouts are in the +fields. + +_Giles._ I meant not Injuns. There be worse than Injuns. There be +evil things and witches! + +_Martha_ (_laughing_). Witches! Goodman, you are a worse child than +Phoebe here. + +_Giles._ I tell ye, wife, you talk like a fool, ranting thus +against witches. I would you had been where I have been to-night, +and heard the afflicted maids cry out in torment, being set upon by +Sarah Good and Sarah Osborn. I would you had seen Mercy Lewis +strangled almost to death, and the others testifying 'twas Sarah +Good thus afflicting her. But I'll warrant you'd not have believed +them. + +_Martha_ (_laughing_). That I would not, goodman. I would have said +that the maids should be sent home and soundly trounced, then put to +bed, with a quart bowl of sage tea apiece. + +_Giles._ Talk so if you will. One of these days folk will say you +be a witch yourself. You were ever hard-skulled, and could knock +your head long against a truth without being pricked by it. Hold out +if you can, when only this morning the ox and the cat were took so +strangely here in our own household. + +_Martha._ Shame on you, goodman! The ox and the cat themselves +would laugh at you. The cat ate a rat, and it did not set well on +her stomach, and the ox slipped in the mire in the yard. + +_Nancy._ 'Twas more than that. I know, I know. + +_Giles._ Laugh if you will, wife. Mayhap you know more about it +than other folk. You never could abide the cat. I am going to bed, +if I can first go to prayer. Last night the words went from me +strangely! But you will laugh at that. [_Lights a candle. Exit._ + +_Phoebe._ Aunt Corey, may I eat an apple? + +_Martha._ Not to-night. 'Twill give you the nightmare. + +_Phoebe._ No, 'twill not. + +_Martha._ Be still! + +_There is a knock._ Olive _opens the door. Enter_ Paul Bayley. Ann +_starts up._ + +_Paul._ Good-evening, goodwife. Good-evening, Olive. Good-evening, +Ann. 'Tis a fine night out. + +_Ann._ I must be going; 'tis late. + +_Olive._ Nay, Ann, 'tis not late. Wait, and Paul will go home with +you through the wood. + +_Ann._ I must be going. + +_Paul_ (_hesitatingly_). Then let me go with you, Mistress Ann! I +can well do my errand here later. + +_Ann._ Nay, I can wait whilst you do the errand, if you are speedy. +I fear lest the delay would make you ill at ease. + +_Martha_ (_quickly_). There is no need, Paul. I will go with Ann. I +want to borrow a hood pattern of Goodwife Nourse on the way. + +_Paul._ But will you not be afraid, goodwife? + +_Martha._ Afraid, and the moon at a good half, and only a short way +to go? + +_Paul._ But you have to go through the wood. + +_Martha._ The wood! A stretch as long as this room--six ash-trees, +one butternut, and a birch sapling thrown in for a witch spectre. +Say no more, Paul. Sit you down and keep Olive company. I will go, +if only for the sake of showing these silly little hussies that +there is no call for a gospel woman with prayer in her heart to be +afraid of anything but the wrath of God. [_Puts a blanket over her +head._ + +_Ann._ I want no company at all, Goodwife Corey. + +_Phoebe._ Aunt Corey, let me go, too; my stint is done. + +_Martha._ Nay, you must to bed, and Nancy too. Off with ye, and no +words. + +_Nancy._ I'm none so old that I must needs be sent to bed like a +babe, I'd have you know that, Goody Corey. [_Sets away apple pan; +exit, with_ Phoebe _following sulkily._ + +_Martha._ Come, Ann. + +_Ann._ I want no company. I have more fear with company than I have +alone. + +_Martha._ Along with you, child. + +_Olive._ Oh, Ann, you are forgetting your cape. Here, mother, you +carry it for her. Good-night, sweetheart. + +_Ann._ I want no company, Goodwife Corey. [Martha _takes her +laughingly by the arm and leads her out._ + +_Paul._ It is a fine night out. + +_Olive._ So I have heard. + +_Paul._ You make a jest of me, Mistress Olive. Know you not when a +man is of a sudden left alone with a fair maid, he needs to try his +speech like a player his fiddle, to see if it be in good tune for +her ears; and what better way than to sound over and over again the +praise of the fine weather? What ailed Ann that she seemed so +strangely, Olive? + +_Olive._ I know not. I think she had been overwrought by coming +alone through the woods. + +_Paul._ She seemed ill at ease. Why spin you so steadily, Olive? + +_Olive._ I must finish my stint. + +_Paul._ Who set you a stint as if you were a child? + +_Olive._ Mine own conscience, to which I will ever be a child. + +_Paul._ Cease spinning, sweetheart. + +_Olive._ Nay. + +_Paul._ Come over here on the settle, there is something I would +tell thee. + +_Olive._ Tell it, then. I can hear a distance of three feet or so. + +_Paul._ I know thou canst, but come. + +_Olive._ Nay, I will not. This is no courting night. I cannot idle +every night in the week. + +_Paul._ Thou wouldst make a new commandment. A maid shall spin flax +every night in the week save the Sabbath, when she shall lay aside +her work and be courted. There be young men here in Salem Village, +though you may credit it not, Olive, who visit their maids twice +every week, and have the fire in the fore room kindled. + +_Olive._ My mother thinks it not well that I should sit up oftener +than once a week, nor do I; but be not vexed by it, Paul. + +_Paul._ I love thee better for it, sweetheart. + +_Olive._ My stint is done. + +_Paul._ Then come. (_She obeys._) Now for the news. This morning I +bought of Goodman Nourse his nine-acre lot for a homestead. What +thinkest thou of that? + +_Olive._ It is a pleasant spot. + +_Paul._ 'Tis not far from here, and thou wilt be near thy mother. + +_Olive._ Was it not too costly? + +_Paul._ I had saved enough to pay for it, and in another year's +time, and I have the help of God in it, I shall have saved enough +for our house. What thinkest thou of a gambrel-roof and a lean-to, +two square front rooms, both fire-rooms, and a living-room? And +peonies and hollyhocks in the front yard, and two popple-trees, one +on each side of the gate? + +_Olive._ We shall need not a lean-to, Paul, and one fire-room will +serve us well; but I will have laylocks and red and white roses as +well as peonies and hollyhocks in the front yard, and some mint +under the windows to make the house smell sweet; and I like well the +popple-trees at the gate. + +_Paul._ The house shall be built of fairly seasoned yellow pine +wood, with a summer tree in every room, and fine panel-work in the +doors and around the chimbleys. + +_Olive._ Nay, Paul, not too fine panel-work; 'twill cost too high. + +_Paul._ Cupboards in every room, and fine-laid white floors. + +_Olive._ We need a cupboard in the living-room only, but I have +learned to sand a floor in a rare pattern. [Paul _attempts to +embrace_ Olive. _She repulses him._ + +_Paul._ I trow you are full provident of favors and pence, Olive. + +_Olive._ I would save them for thee, Paul. + +_Paul._ And thou shalt not be hindered by me to any harm, +sweetheart. Was't thy mother taught thee such wisdom, or thine own +self, Olive? + +_Olive._ 'Twas my mother. + +_Paul._ Nay, 'twas thine own heart; that shall teach me, too. +[_Nine-o'clock bell rings._ + +_Olive._ Oh, 'tis nine o'clock, and 'tis not a courting night. +Paul, be off; thou must! [_They jump up and go to the door._ + +_Paul_ (_putting his arm around_ Olive). Give me but one kiss, +Olive, albeit not a courting night, for good speed on my homeward +walk and my to-morrow's journey. + +_Olive._ Where go you to-morrow, Paul? + +_Paul._ To Boston, for a week's time or more. + +_Olive._ Oh, Paul, there may be Injuns on the Boston path! Thou +wilt be wary? + +_Paul_ (_laughing_). Have no fear for me, sweetheart. I shall have +my musket. + +_Olive._ A week? + +_Paul._ 'Tis a short time, but long enough to need sweetening with +a kiss when folk are absent from one another. + +_Olive_ (_kisses him_). Oh, be careful, Paul! + +_Paul._ Fear not for me, sweetheart, but do thou too be careful, +for sometimes danger sneaks at home, when we flee it abroad. Keep +away from this witchcraft folly. Good-by, sweetheart. [_They part._ +Olive _sets a candle in the window after_ Paul's _exit. Nine-o'clock +bell still rings as curtain falls._ + + +Scene II.--_Twelve o'clock at night. Living-room at_ Giles Corey's +_house, lighted only by the moon and low fire-light. Enter_ Nancy +Fox _with a candle,_ Phoebe _following with a large rag doll._ +Nancy _sets the candle on the dresser._ + +_Nancy._ Be ye sure that Goody Corey is asleep, and Goodman Corey? + +_Phoebe_ (_dances across to the door, which she opens slightly, and +listens_). They be both a-snoring. Hasten and begin, I pray you, +Nancy. + +_Nancy._ And Olive? + +_Phoebe._ She is asleep, and she is in the south chamber, and could +not hear were she awake. Here is my doll. Now show me how to be a +witch. Quick, Nancy! + +_Nancy._ Whom do you desire to afflict? + +_Phoebe_ (_considers_). Let me see. I will afflict Uncle Corey, +because he brought me naught from Boston to-day; Olive, because she +gave that cape to Ann instead of me; and Aunt Corey, because she set +me such a long stint, because she would not let me eat an apple +to-night, and because she sent me to bed. I want to stick one pin +into Uncle Corey, one into Olive, and three into Aunt Corey. + +_Nancy._ Take the doll, prick it as you will, and say who the +pricks be for. [Phoebe _sticks a pin into the doll._ + +_Phoebe._ This pin be for Uncle Corey, and this pin be for Olive, +and this pin for Aunt Corey, and this pin for Aunt Corey, and this +pin for Aunt Corey. Pins! pins!! pins!!! (_Dances._) In truth, +Nancy, 'tis rare sport being a witch; but I stuck not in the pins +very far, lest they be too sorely hurt. + +_Nancy._ Is there any other whom you desire to afflict? + +_Phoebe._ I fear I know not any other who has angered me, and I +could weep for 't. Stay! I'll afflict Ann, because she hath the +cape; and I'll afflict Paul Bayley, because I'm drove forth from the +fore room Sabbath nights when he comes a-courting; and I'll afflict +Minister Parris, because he put me too hard a question from the +catechism; that makes three more. Oh, 'tis rare sport! (_Seizes the +doll and sticks in three pins._) This pin be for Ann, this pin be +for Paul, and this pin be for Minister Parris. Deary me, I can think +of no more! What next, Nancy? + +_Nancy._ I'll do some witchcraft now. I desire to afflict your aunt +Corey, because she doth drive me hither and thither like a child, +and sets no value on my understanding; Olive, because she made a +jest of me; and Goody Bishop, because she hath a fine silk hood. + +_Phoebe._ Here is the doll, Nancy. + +_Nancy._ Nay, I have another way, which you be too young to +understand. [Nancy _takes the candle, goes to the fireplace, and +courtesies three times, looking up the chimney._ + +_Nancy._ Hey, black cat! hey, my pretty black cat! Go ye and sit on +Goody Corey's breast, and claw her if she stirs. Do as I bid ye, my +pretty black cat, and I'll sign the book. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, I hear the black cat yawl! + +_Nancy_ (_after courtesying three times_). Hey, black dog! hey, my +pretty black dog! Go ye and howl in Mistress Olive's ear, so she be +frighted in her dreams, and so get a little bitter with the sweet. +Do as I bid ye, my pretty black dog, and I'll sign the book. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, I hear the black dog howl! + +_Nancy_ (_after courtesying three times_). Hey, yellow bird! hey, my +pretty yellow bird! Go ye and peck at Goody Bishop's fine silk hood +and tear it to bits. Do as I bid ye, my pretty yellow bird, and I'll +sign the book. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, I hear the yellow bird twitter up chimbly! + +_Nancy._ 'Tis rare witchcraft. + +_Phoebe._ Is that all, Nancy? + +_Nancy._ All of this sort. I've given them all they can do +to-night. + +_Phoebe._ Then sing the witch song, Nancy. + +_Nancy._ I'll sing the witch song, and you can dance on the table. + +_Phoebe._ But 'tis sinful to dance, Nancy! + +_Nancy._ 'Tis not sinful for a witch. + +_Phoebe._ True; I forgot I was a witch. [_Gets upon the table and +dances, dangling her doll, while_ Nancy _sings._ + +WITCH SONG. + +(Same air as Spinning Song.) + + "I'll tell you a story, a story of one; + 'Twas of a dark witch, and the wizard her son. + A dark witch was she, and a dark wizard he, + With yellow birds singing so gay and so free. + To my down, down, down, derry down. + + "The clock was a-striking, a-striking of one. + The witches came out, and the dancing begun. + They courtesied so fine, and they drank the red wine-- + The wizards were three and the witches were nine. + To my down, down, down, derry down. + + "Halloo, the gay dancers! Halloo, I was one; + The goody that prayed and the maiden that spun! + The yellow birds chirped in the boughs overhead, + And fast through the bushes the black dog sped. + To my down, down, down, derry down." + [_A noise is heard._ Phoebe _jumps down from the table._ + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, something's coming! Run, run quick, or it 'll +catch us! [_Both run out. Curtain falls._ + + + + +Act II. + + +_Best room in the house of_ Widow Eunice Hutchins, Ann's _mother._ +John Hathorne _and_ Minister Parris _enter, shown in by_ Widow +Hutchins. + +_Hutchins._ I pray you, sirs, to take some cheers the while I go +for a moment's space to my poor afflicted child. I heard her cry out +but now. [_Exit._ + +[Hathorne _and_ Parris _seat themselves, but_ Hathorne _quickly +springs up, and begins walking._ + +_Hathorne._ I cannot be seated in this crisis. I would as lief be +seated in an onset of the savages. I must up and lay about me. We +have heretofore been too lax in this dreadful business; the powers +of darkness be almost over our palisades. I tell thee there must be +more action! + +_Parris_ (_pounding with his cane_). Yea, Master Hathorne, I am with +thee. Verily, this last be enough to make the elect themselves quake +with fear. This Martha Corey is a woman of the covenant. + +_Hathorne._ There must be no holding back. The powers of darkness +be let loose amongst us, and they that be against them must be up. +We must hang, hang, hang, till we overcome! + +_Parris._ Yea, we must not falter, though all the woods of +Massachusetts Bay be cut for gallows-trees, and the country be like +Sodom. Verily, Satan hath manifested himself at the head of our +enemies; the colonies were never in such peril as now. We must +strive as never before, or all will be lost. The wilderness full of +malignant savages, who be the veritable servants of Satan, closes us +in, and the cloven footmark is in our midst. There must be no +dallying as we would save the colonies. Widow Hutchins saith her +daughter is grievously pressed. (_A scream._) There, heard you +that? + +_Hathorne._ It is dreadful, dreadful, that an innocent maid should +be so tormented by acts which her guileless fancy could never +compass! + +_Parris._ Verily, malignity hath ever cowardice in conjunction with +it. Satan loveth best to afflict those who can make no defence, and +fastens his talons first in the lambs. + +_Enter_ Widow Hutchins _with the embroidered cape._ + +_Hutchins._ Here, your worships, is the cape. + +_Hathorne_ (_examines it_). I have seen women folk wear its like on +the Sabbath day. I can see naught unwonted about it. + +_Parris._ It looketh like any cape. + +_Hutchins._ I fear it be not like any cape. Had your worships seen +my poor child writhe under it, and I myself, when I would try it on, +bent down to my knees as under a ton weight, your worships would not +think it like any cape. + +_Parris._ I suspect there be verily evil work in the cape, and a +witch's bodkin hath pierced these cunning eyelets. It goeth so fast +now that erelong every guileless, senseless thing in our houses, +down to the tinder-box and the candle-stick, will find hinges and +turn into a gate, whereby witchcraft can enter. You say, Widow +Hutchins, that Olive Corey gave this cape to your daughter? + +_Hutchins._ That did she. Yesterday evening Ann went down to Goody +Corey's house for a little chat; she and Olive have been gossips +ever since they were children, though lately there hath been +somewhat of bitterness betwixt them. + +_Parris._ How mean you? + +_Hutchins._ I have laid it upon my mind ere now to tell you, being +much wrought up concerning it, and thinking that you might give me +somewhat of spiritual consolation and advice. It was in this wise. +Paul Bayley, who, they say, goeth every Sabbath night to Goody +Corey's house and sitteth up until unseemly hours with Olive, looked +once with a favorable eye upon my daughter Ann. Had your worships +seen him, as I saw him one day in the meeting-house, look at Ann +when she wore her green paduasoy, you had not doubted. Youths look +not thus upon maidens unless they be inclined toward them. But this +hussy Olive Corey did come between Paul and my Ann, and that not of +her own merits. There is nobody in Salem Village who would say that +Olive Corey's looks be aught in comparison with my Ann's, but I trow +Goody Corey hath arts which make amends for lack of beauty. I trow +all ill-favored folk might be fair would they have such arts used +upon them. + +_Hathorne._ What mean you by that saying? + +_Hutchins._ I mean Goody Corey hath devilish arts whereby she +giveth her daughter a beauty beyond her own looks, wherewith she may +entice young men. + +_Hathorne._ You say that this cape caused your daughter torment? + +_Hutchins._ Your worships, it lay on her neck like a fire-brand, +and she thought she should die ere she cast it off. + +_Hathorne._ Widow Hutchins, will you now put on the cape? + +_Hutchins._ Oh, your worship, I dare not put it on! I fear it will +be the death of me if I do. + +_Hathorne._ Minister Parris, wilt thou put on the cape? + +_Parris._ Good Master Hathorne, it would ill behoove a minister of +the gospel to put himself in jeopardy when so many be depending upon +him to lead them in this dreadful conflict with the powers of +darkness. But do thou put on the mantle the while I go to prayer to +avert any ill that may come of it. + +_Hathorne._ Nay, I will make no such jest of my office of +magistrate as to put this woman's gear on my shoulders. I doubt if +there be aught in it. Prithee, Widow Hutchins, when did this torment +first come upon the young woman? + +_Hutchins._ Your worship, she went, as I have said, to Goody +Corey's yester-evening to have a little chat with her gossip, Olive, +and Paul Bayley came in also, and some of them did talk strangely +about this witchcraft, Olive and Goody Corey nodding and winking, +and making light of it. And then when Ann said she must be home, +Paul rose quickly and made as though he would go with her, but Goody +Corey would not let him, and herself went with Ann. And she did +practise her devilish arts upon my poor child all the way home, and +when my poor child got on the door-stone she burst open the door, +and came in as though all the witches were after her, and she hath +not been herself since. She hath ever since been grievously +tormented, being set upon now by Goody Corey, and now by Olive, +being choked and twisted about until I thought she would die, and so +I fear she will, unless they be speedily put in chains. It seemeth +flesh and blood cannot endure it. Mercy Lewis is just come in, and +she saw Goody Corey and Olive upon her when she opened the door. + +_Hathorne._ This evil work must be stopped at all hazards, and this +monstrous brood of witches gotten out of the land. + +_Parris._ Yea, verily, although we have to reach under the covenant +for them. [_Screams._ + +_Hutchins._ Oh, your worships, my poor child will have no peace +until they be chained in prison. + +_Hathorne._ They shall be chained in prison before the sun sets. I +will at once go forth and issue warrants for the arrest of Martha +Corey and her daughter. [_More violent screams and loud voices +overhead._ + +_Parris._ Would it not be well, good Master Hathorne, for us to see +the afflicted maid before we depart? + +_Hutchins._ Oh, I pray you, sirs, come up stairs to my poor child's +chamber and see yourselves in what grievous torment she lies. She +hath often called for Minister Parris, saying they dared not so +afflict her were he there. + +_Hathorne._ It would perchance be as well. Lead the way, if you +will, Widow Hutchins. [_Exeunt. Screams continue._ + +_Enter_ Nancy Fox _and_ Phoebe Morse _stealthily from other door._ +Phoebe _carries her rag doll._ + +_Nancy._ Massy sakes, hear them screeches! + +_Phoebe_ (_clinging to_ Nancy). Oh, Nancy, won't they catch us too! +I'm afraid! + +_Nancy._ They can't touch us; we're witches too. + +_Phoebe._ Massy sakes! I forgot we were witches. + +_Nancy._ Hear that, will ye? Ain't she a-ketchin' it? + +_Phoebe._ Nancy, do you suppose it's the pin I stuck in my doll +makes Ann screech that way? + +_Nancy._ Most likely 'tis. Stick in another, and see if she +screeches louder. + +_Phoebe._ No, I won't. I'll pull the pin out; 'twas this one in my +doll's arm. (_Pulls out pin and flings it on the floor._) I won't +have Ann hurt so bad as that if Olive did give her the cape. Why +don't she stop screeching now, Nancy? Oh, Nancy, somebody's coming! +I hear somebody at the door. Crawl under the bed--quick! quick! + +[Phoebe _gets down and begins to crawl under the bed._ Nancy _tries +to imitate her, but cannot bend herself._ + +_Nancy._ Oh, massy! I've got a crick in my back, and I can't double +up. What shall I do? (_Tries to bend._) I can't; no, I can't! 'Tis +like a hot poker. Massy! what 'll I do? + +_Phoebe._ You've got to, Nancy. Quick! the latch is lifting. Quick! +quick! I'll push you. No; I'll pull you. Here! + +[_Pulls_ Nancy _down upon the floor, and rolls her under the bed; +gets under herself just as the door is pushed open._ + +_Enter_ Giles Corey _in great excitement._ + +_Giles_ (_running across the room, and listening at the door leading +to the chamber stairs_). Devil take them! why don't they put an end +to it? Why do they let the poor lass be set upon this way? +Screeching so you can hear her all over Salem Village! There! hear +that, will ye? Out upon them! Widow Hutchins! Widow Hutchins! Can't +you give her some physic? Sha'n't I come up there with my musket? +Why don't they find out who is so tormenting her and chain her up in +prison? 'Tis some witch or other. Oh, I'd hang her; I'd tie the rope +myself. Poor lass! poor lass! [_The door is pushed open, and_ Giles +_starts back._ + +_Enter_ John Hathorne, Minister Parris, _and_ Widow Hutchins. + +_Giles._ Good-day, Widow Hutchins. Shall I go up there with my +musket? + +_Parris._ I trow there be too many of thy household up there now. + +_Giles._ I'd lay about me till I hit some of 'em. I'll warrant I +would. Oh, the poor lass! hear that! + +_Parris._ She is a grievous case. + +_Giles._ I heard the screeches out in the wood, and I ran in +thinking I might do somewhat. I would Martha were here. I'll be +bound she'd laugh and scoff at it no longer! + +_Hathorne._ Laugh and scoff, say you? + +_Giles._ That she doth. Martha acts as if the devil were in her +about it. She doth nothing but laugh at and make light of the +afflicted children, and saith there be no witches. She would not +even believe 'twas aught out of the common when our ox and cat were +took strangely. If she were herself a witch she could be no more +stiff-necked. + +_Parris._ Doth she go out after nightfall? + +_Giles._ That she doth, in spite of all I can say. She hath no fear +that an honest gospel woman should have in these times. She went out +last night, and I was so angered that I charged her with galloping a +broomstick home. + +_Hathorne._ Did she deny it? + +_Giles._ She laughed as she is wont to do. She even made a jest +on't, when I could not when I would go to prayer, and the words +stayed beyond my wits. I would she could be here now, and hear this! + +_Parris._ Perchance she doth. + +_Giles._ I'll warrant she'd lose somewhat of her stiff-neckedness. +Hear that! Can't ye chain up the witch that's tormenting the poor +lass! Is't Goody Osborn? + +_Hathorne._ The witch will be chained and in prison before +nightfall. Come, Minister Parris, we can do no good by abiding +longer here. Methinks we have sufficient testimony. + +_Parris._ Verily the devil hath played into our hands. [_They turn +to leave._ + +_Hutchins._ Oh, your worships, ye will use good speed for the sake +of my poor child. + +_Giles._ Ay, be speedy about it. Put the baggage in prison as soon +as may be, and load her down well with irons. + +_Hathorne._ I will strive to obey your commands well, Goodman +Corey. Good-day, Widow Hutchins; your daughter shall soon find +relief. + +_Parris._ Good-day, Widow Hutchins, and be of good cheer. + +[_Exeunt_ Hathorne _and_ Parris, _while_ Widow Hutchins +_courtesies._ + +_Giles._ Well, I must even be going too. I have my cattle to water. +I but bolted in when I heard the poor lass screech, thinking I might +do somewhat. But good Master Hathorne will see to it. Hear that! Do +ye go up to her, widow, and mix her up a bowl of yarb tea, till they +put the trollop in prison. I'm off to water my cattle, then devil +take me if I don't give the sheriffs a hand if they need it. Goody +Osborn's house is nigh mine. Good-day, widow. [_Exit_ Giles. + +_Hutchins_ (_laughing_). Give the sheriffs a hand, will he? +Perchance he will, but I doubt me if 'tis not a fisted one. He sets +his life by Goody Corey, however he rate her. (_A scream from above +of_ "Mother! Mother!") Yes, Ann, I'm coming, I'm coming! [_Exit._ + +_Phoebe_ (_crawls out from under the bed_). Now, Nancy, we've got a +chance to run. Come out, quick! Oh, if Uncle Corey had caught us +here! + +_Nancy._ I can't get out. Oh! oh! The rheumatiz stiffened me so I +couldn't double up, and now it has stiffened me so I can't undouble. +No, 'tis not rheumatiz, 'tis Goody Bishop has bewitched me. I can't +get out. + +_Phoebe._ You must, Nancy, or some body 'll come and catch us. +Here, I'll pull you out. + +[_Tugs at_ Nancy's _arms, and drags her out, groaning._ + +_Nancy._ Here I am out, but I can't undouble. I'll have to go home +on all-fours like a cat. Oh! oh! + +_Phoebe._ Give me your hands and I'll pull you up. Think you 'tis +witchcraft, Nancy? + +_Nancy._ I know 'tis. 'Tis Goody Bishop in her fine silk hood +afflicts me. Oh, massy! + +_Phoebe._ There, you are up, Nancy. + +_Nancy._ I ain't half undoubled. + +_Phoebe._ You can walk so, can't you, Nancy? Oh, come, quick! I +think I hear somebody on the stairs. (_Catches up her doll and +seizes_ Nancy's _hand._) Quick! quick! + +_Nancy._ I tell ye I can't go quick; I ain't undoubled enough. +Devil take Goody Bishop! + +[_Exit, hobbling and bent almost double,_ Phoebe _urging her along. +Curtain falls._ + + + + +Act III. + + +_The Meeting-house in Salem Village. Enter_ People of Salem Village +_and take seats. The_ Afflicted Girls, _among whom are_ Ann Hutchins +_and_ Mercy Lewis, _occupy the front seats._ Nancy Fox _and_ +Phoebe. _Enter the magistrates_ John Hathorne _and_ Jonathan Corwin +_with_ Minister Parris, _escorted by the_ Marshal, Aids, _and four_ +Constables. _They place themselves at a long table in front of the +pulpit._ + +_Hathorne_ (_rising_). We are now prepared to enter upon the +examination. We invoke the blessing of God upon our proceedings, and +call upon the Marshal to produce the bodies of the accused. + +[_Exeunt_ Marshal _and_ Constables. Afflicted Girls _twist about and +groan. Great excitement among the people._ + +_Enter_ Marshal _and_ Constables _leading_ Martha _and_ Olive Corey +_in chains._ Giles _follows. The prisoners are placed facing the +assembly, with the_ Constables _holding their hands._ Giles _stands +near. The_ Afflicted Girls _make a great clamor._ + +_Ann._ Oh, they are tormenting! They will be the death of me! I +will not! I will not! + +_Giles._ Hush your noise, will ye, Ann Hutchins! + +_Parris._ Peace, Goodman Corey! + +_Hathorne._ Martha Corey, you are now in the hands of authority. +Tell me now why you hurt these persons. + +_Martha._ I do not. I pray your worships give me leave to go to +prayer. + +_Hathorne._ We have not sent for you to go to prayer, but to +confess that you are a witch. + +_Martha._ I am no witch. I am a gospel woman. There is no such +thing as a witch. Shall I confess that I am what doth not exist? It +were not only a lie, but a fool's lie. + +_Mercy._ There is a black man whispering in her ears. + +_Hathorne._ What saith the black man to you, goodwife? + +_Martha._ I pray your worships to ask the maid. Perchance, since +she sees him, she can also hear what he saith better than I. + +_Hathorne._ Why do you not tell how the devil comes in your shape +and hurts these maids? + +_Martha._ How can I tell how? I was never acquaint with the ways of +the devil. I leave it to those wise maids who are so well acquaint +to tell how. Perchance he hath whispered it in their ears. + +_Afflicted Girls._ Oh, there is a yellow bird! There is a yellow +bird perched on her head! + +_Hathorne._ What say you to that, Goodwife Corey? + +_Martha._ What can I say to such folly? + +_Hathorne._ Constables, let go the hands of Martha Corey. + +[_The_ Constables _let go her hands, and immediately there is a +great outcry from the_ Afflicted Girls. + +_Afflicted Girls._ She pinches us! Hold her hands! Hold her hands +again! Oh! oh! + +_Ann._ She is upon me again! She digs her fingers into my throat! +Hold her hands! Hold her hands! She will be the death of me! + +_Giles._ Devil take ye, ye lying trollop! 'Tis a pity somebody had +not been the death of ye before this happened! + +_Hathorne._ Constables, hold the hands of the accused. + +[Constables _obey, and at once the afflicted are quiet._ + +_Hathorne._ Goodwife Corey, what do you say to this? + +_Martha._ I see with whom we have to do. May the Lord have mercy +upon us! + +_Hathorne._ What say you to the charges that your husband, Giles +Corey, hath many a time brought against you in the presence of +witnesses--that you hindered him when he would go to prayer, causing +the words to go from him strangely; that you were out after +nightfall, and did ride home on a broomstick; and that you scoffed +at these maids and their affliction, as if you were a witch +yourself? + +_Giles._ I said not so! Martha, I said it not so! + +_Hathorne._ What say you to your husband's charge that you did +afflict his ox and cat, causing his ox to fall in the yard, and the +cat to be strangely sick? + +_Giles._ Devil take the ox and the cat! I said not that she did +afflict them. + +_Hathorne._ Peace, Goodman Corey; you are now in court. + +_Martha._ I say, if a gospel woman is to be hung as a witch for +every stumbling ox and sick cat, 'tis setting a high value upon oxen +and cats. + +_Giles._ I would mine had all been knocked in the head, lass, and +me too! + +_Hathorne._ Peace! Ann Hutchins, what saw you when Goodwife Corey +went home with you through the wood? + +_Ann._ Hold fast her hands, I pray, or she will kill me. The trees +were so full of yellow birds that it sounded as if a mighty wind +passed over them, and the birds lit on Goody Corey's head. And black +beasts ran alongside through the bushes, which did break and +crackle, and they were at Goody Corey and me to go to the witch +dance on the hill. And they said to bring Olive Corey and Paul +Bayley. And Goody Corey told them how she and Olive would presently +come, but not Paul, for he never would sign the book, not even +though Olive trapped him by the arts they had taught her. And Goody +Corey showed me the book then, and besought me to sign, and go with +her to the dance. And when I would not, she and Olive also afflicted +me so grievously that I thought I could not live, and have done so +ever since. + +_Hathorne._ What say you to this, Goodwife Corey? + +_Martha._ I pray your worship believe not what she doth charge +against my daughter. + +_Corwin._ Mercy Lewis, do you say that you have seen both of the +accused afflicting Ann Hutchins? + +_Mercy._ Yes, your worship, many a time have I seen them pressing +her to sign the book, and afflicting when she would not. + +_Corwin._ How looked the book? + +_Mercy._ 'Twas black, your worship, with blood-red clasps. + +_Corwin._ Read you the names in it? + +_Mercy._ I strove to, your worship, but I got not through the C's; +there were too many of them. + +_Hathorne._ Let the serving-woman, Nancy Fox, come hither. + +[Nancy Fox _makes her way to the front._ + +_Hathorne._ Nancy, I have heard that your mistress afflicts you. + +_Nancy._ That she doth. + +_Hathorne._ In what manner? + +_Nancy._ She sendeth me to bed at first candlelight as though I +were a babe; she maketh me to wear a woollen petticoat in +winter-time, though I was not brought up to't; and she will never +let me drink more than one mug of cider at a sitting, and I nigh +eighty, and needing on't to warm my bones. + +_Corwin._ Hath she ever afflicted you? Your replies be not to the +point, woman. + +_Nancy._ Your worship, she hath never had any respect for my +understanding, and that hath greatly afflicted me. + +_Hathorne._ Hath she ever shown you a book to sign? + +_Nancy._ Verily she hath; and when I would not, hath afflicted me +with sore pains in all my bones, so I cried out, on getting up, when +I had set awhile. + +_Hathorne._ Hath your mistress a familiar? + +_Nancy._ Hey? + +_Hathorne._ Have you ever seen any strange thing with her? + +_Nancy._ She hath a yellow bird which sits on her cap when she +churns. + +_Hathorne._ What else have you seen with her? + +_Nancy._ A thing like a cat, only it went on two legs. It clawed up +the chimbly, and the soot fell down, and Goody Corey set me to +sweeping on't up on the Lord's day. + +_Giles._ Out upon ye, ye lying old jade! + +_Hathorne._ Silence! Nancy, you may go to your place. Phoebe Morse, +come hither. + +[Phoebe Morse _approaches with her apron over her face, sobbing. She +has her doll under her arm._ + +_Hathorne._ Cease weeping, child. Tell me how your aunt Corey +treats you. Hath she ever taught you otherwise than you have learned +in your catechism? + +_Phoebe_ (_weeping_). I don't know. Oh, Aunt Corey, I didn't mean +to! I took the pins out of my doll, I did. Don't whip me for it. + +_Hathorne._ What doll? What mean you, child? + +_Phoebe._ I don't know. I didn't stick them in so very deep, Aunt +Corey! Don't let them hang me for it! + +_Hathorne._ Did your aunt Corey teach you to stick pins into your +doll to torment folk? + +_Phoebe_ (_sobbing convulsively_). I don't know! I don't know! Oh, +Aunt Corey, don't let them hang me! Olive, you won't let them! Oh! +oh! + +_Corwin._ Methinks 'twere as well to make an end of this. + +_Hathorne._ There seemeth to me important substance under this +froth of tears. (_To_ Phoebe.) Give me thy doll, child. + +_Phoebe_ (_clutching the doll_). Oh, my doll! my doll! Oh, Aunt +Corey, don't let them have my doll! + +_Martha._ Peace, dear child! Thou must not begrudge it. Their +worships be in sore distress just now to play with dolls. + +_Parris._ Give his worship the doll, child. Hast thou not been +taught to respect them in authority? + +[Phoebe _gives the doll to_ Hathorne, _whimpering._ Hathorne, +Corwin, _and_ Parris _put their heads together over it._ + +_Hathorne_ (_holding up the doll_). There be verily many pins in +this image. Goodwife Corey, what know you of this? + +_Martha._ Your worship, such a weighty matter is beyond my poor +knowledge. + +_Hathorne._ Know you whence the child got this image? + +_Martha._ Yes, your worship. I myself made it out of a piece of an +old homespun blanket for the child to play with. I stuffed it with +lamb's wool, and sewed some green ravellings on its head for hair. I +made it a coat out of my copperas-colored petticoat, and colored its +lips and cheeks with pokeberries. + +_Hathorne._ Did you teach the child to stick in these pins +wherewith to torment folk? + +_Martha._ It availeth me naught to say no, your worship. + +_Mercy_ (_screams_). Oh, a sharp pain shoot through me when I look +at the image! 'Tis through my arms! Oh! + +_Hathorne_ (_examining the doll_). There is a pin in the arms. + +_Ann._ I feel sharp pains, like pins, in my face; oh, 'tis +dreadful! + +_Hathorne_ (_examining the doll_). There are pins in the face. + +_Phoebe_ (_sobbing_). No, no! Those are the pins I stuck in for Aunt +Corey. Don't let them hang me, Aunt Corey. + +_Parris._ That is sufficient. She has confessed. + +_Hathorne._ Yes, methinks the child hath confessed whether she +would or no. Goodwife Corey, Phoebe hath now plainly said that she +did stick these pins in this image for you. What have you to say? + +_Martha_ (_courtesying_). Your worship, the matter is beyond my poor +speech. + +[Hathorne _tosses the doll on the table,_ Phoebe _watching +anxiously._ + +_Hathorne._ Go to your place, child. + +_Phoebe._ I want my doll. + +_Parris._ Go to thy place as his worship bids thee, and think on +the precepts in thy catechism. [Phoebe _returns sobbing._ + +_Afflicted Girls._ Oh, Goody Corey turns her eyes upon us! Bid her +turn her eyes away! + +_Ann._ Oh, I see a black cat sitting on Goody Corey's shoulder, and +his eyes are like coals. Now, now, he looks at me when Goody Corey +does! Look away! look away! Oh, I am blind! I am blind! Sparks are +coming into my eyes from Goody Corey's. Make her turn her eyes away, +your worships; make her turn her eyes away! + +_Hathorne._ Goody Corey, fix your eyes upon the floor, and look not +at these poor children whom you so afflict. + +_Martha._ May the Lord open the eyes of the magistrates and +ministers, and give them sight to discover the guilty! + +_Parris._ Why do you not confess that you are a witch? + +_Martha_ (_with sudden fervor_). I am no witch. There is no such +thing as a witch. Oh, ye worshipful magistrates, ye ministers and +good people of Salem Village, I pray ye hear me speak for a moment's +space. Listen not to this testimony of distracted children, this +raving of a poor lovesick, jealous maid, who should be treated +softly, but not let to do this mischief. Ye, being in your fair wits +and well acquaint with your own knowledge, must know, as I know, +that there be no witches. Wherefore would God let Satan after such +wise into a company of His elect? Hath He not guard over His own +precinct? Can He not keep it from the power of the Adversary as well +as we from the savages? Why keep ye the scouts out in the fields if +the Lord God hath so forsaken us? Call in the scouts! If we believe +in witches, we believe not only great wickedness, but great folly of +the Lord God. Think ye in good faith that I verily stand here with a +black cat on my shoulder and a yellow bird on my head? Why do ye not +see them as well as these maids? I would that ye might if they be +there. Black cat, yellow bird, if ye be upon my shoulder and my +head, as these maids say, I command ye to appear to these +magistrates! Otherwise, if I have signed the book, as these maids +say, I swear unto ye that I will cross out my name, and will serve +none but the God Almighty. Most worshipful magistrates, see ye the +black cat? See ye any yellow bird? Why are ye not afflicted as well +as these maids, when I turn my eyes upon ye? I pray you to consider +that. I am no saint; I wot well that I have but poorly done the will +of the Lord who made me, but I am a gospel woman and keep to the +faith according to my poor measure. Can I be a gospel woman and a +witch too? I have never that I know of done aught of harm whether to +man or beast. I have spared not myself nor minded mine own +infirmities in tasks for them that belonged to me, nor for any +neighbor that had need. I say not this to set myself up, but to +prove to you that I can be no witch, and my daughter can be no +witch. Have I not watched nights without number with the sick? Have +I not washed and dressed new-born babes? Have I not helped to make +the dead ready for burial, and sat by them until the cock crew? Have +I ever held back when there was need of me? But I say not this to +set myself up. Have I not been in the meeting-house every Lord's +day? Have I ever stayed away from the sacrament? Have I not gone in +sober apparel, nor wasted my husband's substance? Have I not been +diligent in my household, and spun and wove great store of linen? +Are not my floors scoured, my brasses bright, and my cheese-room +well filled? Look at me! Can I be a witch? + +_Ann._ A black man hath been whispering in her ear, telling her +what to say. + +_Hathorne._ What say you to that, Goody? + +_Martha._ I say if that be so, he told me not to his own advantage. +I see with whom I have to do. I pray you give me leave to go to +prayer. + +_Hathorne._ You are not here to go to prayer. I much fear that your +many prayers have been to your master, the devil. Constables, bring +forward the body of the accused. + +[Afflicted Girls _shriek._ Constables _lead_ Olive _forward._ +Martha _is led to one side._ + +_Martha._ Be of good cheer, dear child. + +_Giles._ Yes, be not afraid of them, lass; thy father is here. + +_Hathorne._ Silence! Olive Corey, why do you so afflict these other +maids? + +_Olive._ I do not, your worship. + +_Ann._ She is looking at me. Oh, bid her look away, or she will +kill me! + +_Olive._ Oh, Ann, I do not! What mean you, dear Ann? + +_Hathorne._ I charge you, Olive Corey, keep your eyes upon the +floor. + +_Giles._ Look where you please, lass, and thy old father will +uphold thee in it; and I only wish your blue eyes could shoot pins +into the lying hussies. + +_Hathorne._ Goodman, an ye disturb the peace again, ye shall be +removed from court. Ann Hutchins, you have seen this maid hurt you? + +_Ann._ Many a time she hath hurt me nigh to death. + +_Olive._ Oh, Ann, I hurt thee? + +_Ann._ There is a flock of yellow birds around her head. + +[Olive _moves her head involuntarily, and looks up._ + +_Afflicted Girls._ See her look at them! + +_Hathorne._ What say you to that, Olive? + +_Olive._ I did not see them. + +_Hathorne._ Ann Hutchins, did you see this maid walking in the wood +with a black man last week? + +_Ann._ Yes, your worship. + +_Hathorne._ How did he go? + +_Ann._ In black clothes, and he had white hair. + +_Hathorne._ How went the accused? + +_Ann._ She went in her flowered petticoat, and the flowers stood +out, and smelt like real ones; her kerchief shone like a cobweb in +the grass in the morning, and gold sparks flew out of her hair. +Goody Corey fixed her up so with her devilish arts to trap Paul +Bayley. + +_Hathorne._ What mean you? + +_Ann._ To trap the black man, your worship. I knew not what I said, +I was in such torment. + +_Hathorne._ Olive Corey, did your mother ever so change your +appearance by her arts? + +_Olive._ My mother hath no arts, your worship. + +_Ann._ Her cheeks were redder than was common, and her eyes shone +like stars. + +_Hathorne._ Olive, did your mother so change your looks? + +_Olive._ No, your worship; I do not know what Ann may mean. I fear +she be ill. + +_Hathorne._ Mercy Lewis, did you see Olive Corey with the black +man? + +_Mercy._ Yes, your worship; and she called out to me to go with +them to the dance, and I should have the black man for a partner; +and when I would not she afflicted me, pulling my hair and pinching +me. + +_Hathorne._ How appeared she to you? + +_Mercy._ She was dressed like a puppet, finer than I had ever seen +her. + +_Hathorne._ Olive, what did you wear when you walked with the black +man? + +_Olive._ Your worship, I walked with no black man. + +_Ann._ There he is now, standing behind her, looking over her +shoulder. + +_Hathorne._ What say you to that, Olive? + +_Olive_ (_looking in terror over her shoulder_). I see no one. I +pray you, let my father stand near me. + +_Parris._ Nay; the black man is enough for you. + +_Giles_ (_forcing his way to his daughter_). Here I be, lass; and it +will go hard if the hussies can see the black man and old Giles in +one place. Where be the black man now, jades? + +_Hathorne_ (_angrily_). Marshal! + +_Corwin_ (_interposing_). Nay, good Master Hathorne, let Goodman +Corey keep his standing. The maid looks near swooning, and albeit +his manner be rude, yet his argument hath somewhat of force. In +truth, he and the black man cannot occupy one place. Mercy Lewis, +see you now this black man anywhere? + +_Mercy._ Yes, your worship. + +_Corwin._ Where? + +_Mercy._ Whispering in your worship's ear. + +_Parris._ May the Lord protect his magistrates from the wiles of +Satan, and maintain them in safety for the weal of his afflicted +people! + +_Hathorne._ This be going too far. This be presumption! Who of you +now see the black man whispering to the worshipful esquire Jonathan +Corwin? + +_Mercy._ He is gone now out of the meeting-house. 'Twas but for a +moment I saw him. + +_Corwin._ Speak up, children. Did any other of ye see the black man +whispering to me? + +_Afflicted Girls._ No! no! no! + +_Corwin._ Mercy Lewis, you say of a truth you saw him? + +_Mercy._ Your worship, it may have been Minister Parris's shadow +falling across the platform. + +_Corwin._ This is but levity, and hath naught to do with the trial. + +_Hathorne._ We will proceed with the examination. Widow Eunice +Hutchins, produce the cape. + +[Widow Hutchins _comes forward, holding the cape by a corner._ + +_Hathorne._ Put it over your daughter's shoulders. + +_Hutchins._ Oh, your worships, I pray you not! It will kill her! + +_Ann._ Oh, do not! do not! It will kill me! Oh, mother, do not! Oh, +your worships! Oh, Minister Parris! + +_Parris._ Why put the maid to this needless agony? + +_Corwin._ Put the cape over her shoulders. + +[Widow Hutchins _approaches_ Ann _hesitatingly, and throws the cape +over her shoulders._ Ann _sinks upon the floor, shrieking._ + +_Ann._ Take it off! Take it off! It burns! It burns! Take it off! +Have mercy! I shall die! I shall die! + +_Hathorne._ Take off the cape; that is enough. Olive Corey, what +say you to this? This is the cape you gave Ann Hutchins. + +_Olive._ Oh, mother! mother! + +_Martha_ (_pushing forward_). Nay, I will speak again. Ye shall not +keep me from it; ye shall not send me out of the meeting-house! +(_The afflicted cry out._) Peace, or I will afflict ye in earnest! +I _will_ speak! If I be a witch, as ye say, then ye have some reason +to fear me, even ye most worshipful magistrates and ministers. It +might happen to ye even to fall upon the floor in torment, and it +would ill accord with your offices. Ye shall hear me. I speak no +more for myself--ye may go hang me--I speak for my child. Ye shall +not hang her, or judgment will come upon ye. Ye know there is no +guile in her; it were monstrous to call her a witch. It were less +blasphemy to call her an angel than a witch, and ye know it. Ye know +it, all ye maids she hath played with and done her little kindnesses +to, ye who would now go hang her. That cape--that cape, most +worshipful magistrates, did the dear child earn with her own little +hands, that she might give it to Ann, whom she loved so much. +Knowing, as she did, that Ann was poor, and able to have but little +bravery of apparel, it was often on her mind to give her somewhat of +her own, albeit that was but scanty; and she hath toiled overtimes +at her wheel all winter, and sold the yarn in Salem, and so gained a +penny at a time wherewithal to buy that cape for Ann. And now will +it hang her, the dear child? + +Dear Ann, dost thou not remember how thou and my Olive have spent +days together, and slept together many a night, and lain awake till +dawn talking? Dost thou not remember how thou couldst go nowhere +without Olive, nor she without thee, and how no little junketing +were complete to the one were the other not there? Dost thou not +remember how Olive wept when thy father died? Mercy Lewis, dost thou +not remember how my Olive came over and helped thee in thy work that +time thou wert ailing, and how she lent thee her shoes to walk to +Salem? + +Oh, dear children, oh, maids, who have been playmates and friends +with my dear child, ye will not do her this harm! Do ye not know +that she hath never harmed ye, and would die first? Think of the +time when this sickness, that is nigh to madness, shall have passed +over, and all is quiet again. Then will ye sit in the meeting-house +of a Lord's day, and look over at the place where my poor child was +wont to sit listening in her little Sabbath best, and ye will see +her no more, but will say to yourselves that ye have murdered her. +And then of a week-day ye will see her no more spinning at her wheel +in the doorway, nor tending the flowers in her garden. She will come +smiling in at your doors no more, nor walk the village street, and +ye will always see where she is not, and know that ye have murdered +her. Oh, poor children, ye are in truth young, and your minds, I +doubt not, sore bewildered! If I have spoken harshly to ye, I pray +ye heed it not, except as concerns me. I wot well that I am now done +with this world, and I feel already the wind that bloweth over +Gallows Hill in my face. But consider well ere ye do any harm to my +dear child, else verily the day will come when ye will be more to be +pitied than she. Oh, ye will not harm her! Ye will take back your +accusation! Oh, worshipful magistrates, oh, Minister Parris, I pray +you have mercy upon this child! I pray you mercy as you will need +mercy! [_Falls upon her knees._ + +_Hathorne._ Rise, woman; it is not now mercy, but justice that has +to be considered. + +_Parris._ In straits like this there is no mercy in the divine +will. Shall mercy be shown Satan? + +_Corwin._ Mercy Lewis, is it in truth Olive Corey who afflicts you? + +_Mercy_ (_hesitating_). I am not so sure as I was. + +_Other Afflicted Girls._ Nor I! nor I! nor I! + +_Mercy._ Last time I was somewhat blinded and could not see her +face. Methinks she was something taller than Olive. + +_Ann_ (_shrieks_). Oh, Olive is upon me! The sun shines on her face! +I see her, she is choking me! Oh! oh! + +_Mercy_ (_to_ Ann). Hush! If she be put away you'll not get Paul +Bayley; I'll tell you that for a certainty, Ann Hutchins. + +_Ann._ Oh! oh! she is killing me! + +_Mercy._ I see her naught; 'tis a taller person who is afflicting +Ann. (_To_ Ann.) Leave your outcries or I will confess to the +magistrates. [Ann _becomes quiet._ + +_Corwin._ Ann Hutchins, saw you in truth Olive Corey afflicting +you? + +_Ann_ (_sullenly_). It might have been Goody Corey. + +_Corwin._ Mercy Lewis, saw you of a certainty Olive Corey walking +in the wood with a black man? + +_Mercy._ It was the wane of the moon; I might have been mistaken. +It might have been Goody Corey; their carriage is somewhat the same. + +_Corwin._ Give me the cape, Widow Hutchins. (Widow Hutchins _hands +him the cape; he puts it over his shoulders._) Verily I perceive no +great inconvenience from the cape, except it is an ill fit. + +[_Takes it off and lays it on the table. The two magistrates and_ +Minister Parris _whisper together._ + +_Hathorne._ Having now received the testimony of the afflicted and +the witnesses, and duly weighted the same according to our judgment, +being aided to a decision, as we believe, by the divine wisdom which +we have invoked, we declare the damsel Olive Corey free and quit of +the charges against her. And Martha Corey, the wife of Giles Corey, +of Salem Village, we commit unto the jail in Salem until-- + +_Giles._ Send Martha to Salem jail! Out upon ye! Why, ye be gone +clean mad, magistrates and ministers and all! Send Martha to jail! +Why, she must home with me this night and get supper! How think ye I +am going to live and keep my house? Load Martha down with chains in +jail! Martha a witch! Then, by the Lord, she keeps His company +overmuch for one of her trade, for she goes to prayer forty times a +day. Martha a witch! Think ye Goodwife Martha Corey gallops a +broomstick to the hill of a night, with her decent petticoats +flapping? Who says so? I would I had my musket, and he'd not say so +twice to Giles Corey. And let him say so twice as 'tis, and meet my +fist, an he dares. I be an old man, but I could hold my own in my +day, and there be some of me left yet. Who says so twice to old +Giles Corey? Martha a witch! Verily she could not stop praying long +enough to dance a jig through with the devil. Martha! Out upon ye, +ye lying devil's tool of a parson, that seasons murder with prayer! +Out upon ye, ye magistrates! your hands be redder than your fine +trappings! Martha a witch! Ye yourselves be witches, and serving +Satan, and he a-tickling in his sleeve at ye. Send Martha in chains +to Salem jail, ye will, will ye? (_Forces his way to_ Martha, _and +throws his arm around her._) Be not afraid, good lass, thy man will +save thee. Thou shalt not go to jail! I say thou shalt not! I'll cut +my way through a whole king's army ere thou shalt. I'll raise the +devil myself ere thou shalt, and set him tooth and claw on the whole +brood of them. I'll--(_One of the afflicted shrieks._ Giles _turns +upon them._) Why, devil take ye, ye lying hussies, ye have done +this! Ye should be whipped through the town at the tail of a cart, +every one of ye. Ye ill-favored little jades, puling because no man +will have ye, and putting each other up to this d-- mischief for +lack of something better. Out upon ye, ye little-- + +_Mercy_ (_jumping up and screaming in agony_). Oh, Giles Corey is +upon me! He is afflicting me grievously! Oh, I will not! Chain him! +chain him! chain him! + +_Ann._ Oh, this is worse than the others! This is dreadful! He's +strangling me! I--Oh--your--worships! Oh--help!--help! [_Falls upon +the floor._ + +_Afflicted Girls._ Chain him! chain him! + +_Hathorne._ Marshal, take Giles Corey into custody and chain him. + +[Marshal _and_ Constables _advance. Tableau--Curtain falls._ + + + + +Act IV. + + +_The living-room in_ Giles Corey's _house._ Nancy Fox _and the +child_ Phoebe Morse _sit beside the hearth; each has her apron over +her face, weeping._ + +_Phoebe_ (_sobbing_). I--want my Aunt--Corey and--my Uncle Corey. +Why don't they come? Oh, deary me! + +[Phoebe _jumps up and runs to the window._ + +_Nancy._ See you anybody coming? + +_Phoebe._ There is a dame in a black hood coming past the +popple-trees. Oh, Nancy, come quick; see if it be Aunt Corey! + +_Nancy._ Where be my spectacles--where be they? (_Runs about the +room searching._) Oh Lord, what's the use of living to be so old +that you're scattered all over the house like a seed thistle! Having +to hunt everywhere for your eyes and your wits whenever you want to +use 'em, and having other folks a-meddling with 'em! Where be the +spectacles? They be not in the cupboard; they be not on the dresser. +Where be they? I trow this be witch-work. I know well enough what +has become of my good horn spectacles. Goody Bishop hath witched +them away, thinking they would suit well with her fine hood. I know +well that I-- + +_Phoebe_ (_sobbing aloud_). Oh, Nancy, it is not Aunt Corey. It is +only Goodwife Nourse. + +_Nancy._ May the black beast catch her! Be you sure? + +_Phoebe._ Yes; she is passing our gate. Oh, Nancy, what shall we +do? what shall we do? + +_Nancy._ I would that I had my fingers in old man Hathorne's fine +wig. I would yank it off for him, and fling it to the pigs. +A-sending master and mistress to jail, and they no more witches than +I be! + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, be we witches? They have not sent us to jail. + +_Nancy._ I know not what we be. My old head will not hold it all. +It is time they came home. There is not a crumb of sweet-cake in the +house, and the stopple is so tight in the cider-barrel that I cannot +stir it a peg. [_Weeps._ + +_Phoebe._ Nancy, did they send Aunt Corey and Uncle Corey to jail +because I stuck the pins in my doll? + +_Nancy._ I know not. I tell ye my old head spins round like a +flax-wheel; when I put my finger on one spoke 'tis another one. +These things be too much for a poor old woman like me. It takes +folks like their worships the magistrates and Minister Parris to +deal with black men and witches, and keep their wits in no need of +physic. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, I know what I will do! Oh, 'tis well I +snatched my doll off the meeting-house table that day after the +trial, and ran home with it under my apron! (_Runs to the settle, +takes up the doll, which is lying there, and kisses it._) Here is +one kiss for Aunt Corey, here is another kiss for Aunt Corey, here +is another, and another, and another. Here is one kiss for Uncle +Corey, and here is another kiss for Uncle Corey, and here is +another, and another, and another. There, Nancy! will not this do +away with the pin pricks, and they be let out of jail? + +_Nancy._ I know not. My old head bobs like a pumpkin in a pond. I +would master and mistress were home. These be troublous times for an +old woman. I would I could stir the stopple in the cider-barrel. +Look again, and see if mistress be not coming up the road. + +_Phoebe._ It is of no use. I have looked for a whole week, and she +has not come in sight. I want my Aunt Corey! Nancy, have I not done +away with the pin pricks? Tell me, will she be not let out of jail? +Oh, there's Paul coming past the window! He's got home! Olive! +Olive! + +_Enter_ Paul Bayley. Phoebe _runs to him._ + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Paul, they've put Aunt Corey and Uncle Corey in Salem +jail while you were gone! Can't you get them out, Paul, can't you? + +_Paul._ Where is Olive? + +_Phoebe._ She is in her chamber. She stays there all the time at +prayer. Olive! Olive! Paul is come. + +[_Calls at the foot of chamber stairs._ + +_Paul._ Olive! + +Olive _comes slowly down the stairs and enters._ + +_Paul_ (_seizing her in his arms_). Oh, my poor lass, what is this +that hath come to thee? + +_Olive._ This is what thou feared when we parted, Paul, and more. + +_Paul._ I but heard of it as I came through Salem on my way hither. +Oh, 'tis devilish work! + +_Olive._ They let me loose, but father and mother are in Salem +jail. + +_Paul._ Poor lass! + +_Olive._ Can you do naught to help them, Paul? + +_Paul._ Olive, I will help them, if there be any justice or +unclouded minds left in the colony. + +_Olive._ Thou art in truth here, Paul; it is thy voice. + +_Paul._ Whose voice should it be, dear heart? + +_Olive._ I know not. For a week I have thought I heard so many +voices. The air seemed full of voices a-calling me, but I heeded +them not, Paul. I kept all the time at prayer and heeded them not. + +_Paul._ Of course thou didst not. There were no voices to heed. + +_Olive._ Sometimes I thought I heard birds twittering, and +sometimes I thought there was something black at my elbow, and in +the night-time faces at my window. Paul, was there aught there? + +_Paul._ No, no; there was naught there. Birds and black beasts and +faces! This be all folly, Olive! + +_Olive._ They saw a black man by my side in the meeting-house--Ann +saw him. She cried out that the cape I gave her put her to dreadful +torment. Can I have been a witch unknowingly, and so done this great +evil to my father and mother? Tell me, Paul. + +_Paul._ Call up thy wits, Olive! I tell thee thou art no witch. +There was no black man at thy side in the meeting-house. Black man! +I would one would verily lay hands on that lying hussy. Thou art no +witch. + +[Phoebe _rushes to_ Olive, _and clings to her, sobbing._ + +_Phoebe._ You are not a witch, Olive. You are not. If Ann says so I +will pinch her and scratch her. I will! yes, I will--I will scratch +her till the blood runs. You are not a witch. I was the one that got +them into jail. I stuck pins into my doll, but I have made up for it +now. They'll be let out. Don't cry, Olive. + +_Nancy._ Don't you fret yourself, Olive. I trow there's no +witch-mark on you. It's Goody Bishop in her fine silk hood that's at +the bottom on't. I know, I know. Perchance Paul could loose the +stopple in the cider-barrel. I am needful of somewhat to warm my old +bones. This witch-work makes them to creep with chills like long +snakes. + +_Olive._ They say my mother will soon be hanged, and I perchance a +witch, and the cause of it. I cannot get over it. (_Moves away from +them._) If I be a witch, I shall hurt thee, as I perchance have +hurt them. [_Weeps._ + +_Paul._ Olive Corey, what is that? + +_Olive_ (_looking up_). What? What mean you, Paul? [Nancy _and_ +Phoebe _stare._ + +_Paul._ There, over the cupboard. Is it--Yes, 'tis--cobwebs. I +trow I never saw such a sight in Goodwife Corey's house before. + +_Olive._ I will brush them down, Paul. + +_Paul_ (_looking at the floor_). And I doubt me much if the floor +has been swept up this week past, and the hearth is all strewn with +ashes. I trow Goodwife Corey would weep could she see her house +thus. + +_Olive._ I will get the broom, Paul. + +_Paul._ I know well thou hast not spun this last week, that the +cream is too far gone to be churned, and the cheeses have not been +turned. + +_Nancy._ 'Tis so, Paul; and there's no sweet-cake in the house, +either. + +_Paul._ Thou art no such housewife as thy mother, Olive Corey! One +would say she had not taught thee. I trow she was a good housewife, +and notable among the neighbors; but this will take from her +reputation that she hath so brought thee up. I trow could she see +this house 'twould give her a new ache in her heart among all the +others. + +_Olive._ I will mind the house, Paul. + +_Paul._ Ay, mind the house, poor lass! Know you, Olive, that there +is a rumor abroad in Salem that your father will refuse to plead, +and will stand mute at his trial? + +_Olive._ Wherefore will he do that? + +_Paul._ I scarcely know why. Has he made a will, 'twill not be +valid were he to plead at a criminal trial; there will be an +attainder on it. They say that is one reason, and that he thinks +thus to show his scorn of the whole devilish work, and of a trial +that is no trial. + +_Olive._ What is the penalty if he stand mute? + +_Paul._ 'Tis a severe one; but he shall not stand mute. + +_Phoebe._ Oh, Paul, get Aunt Corey out of jail! Can't you get Aunt +Corey out of jail? + +_Nancy._ Perchance you could pry up the hook of the jail door with +the old knife. It will be dark to-night. There is no moon until +three o'clock in the morning. + +_Olive._ Paul, think you not that my father's sons-in-law might do +somewhat? They are men of influence. Their wives are but my +half-sisters, but they are his own daughters. I marvel they have not +come to me since this trouble. + +_Paul._ Olive, his sons-in-law have sent in their written testimony +against him and your mother. + +_Olive._ Paul, it cannot be so! + +_Paul._ They have surely so testified. There is no help to be had +from them. I have a plan. + +_Olive._ All is useless, Paul. His sons-in-law, his own daughters' +husbands, have turned against him! There is no help anywhere. My +mother will soon be hanged. Minister Parris said so last night when +he came. And he knelt yonder and prayed that I might no longer +practise witchcraft. My father and mother are lost, and I have +brought it upon them. Talk no more to me, Paul. + +_Paul._ Then, perchance your mother be a witch, Olive Corey. + +_Olive._ My mother is not a witch. + +_Paul._ Doth not Minister Parris say so? And if he speak truth when +he calls you a witch, why speaks he not truth of your mother also? I +trow, if you be a witch, she is. + +_Olive._ My mother is no witch, and I am no witch, Paul Bayley! + +_Paul._ Mind you stick to that, poor lass! Now, I go to Boston to +the Governor. There lies the only hope for thy parents. + +_Olive._ Think you the Governor will listen? Oh, he must listen! +Thou hast a masterful way with thee, Paul. When wilt thou start? Oh, +if I had not thee! + +_Paul._ I would I could make myself twenty-fold 'twixt thee and +evil, sweet. I will get Goodman Nourse's horse and start to-night. + +_Olive._ Then go, go! Do not wait! + +_Paul._ I will not wait. Good-by, dear heart. Keep good courage, +and put foolish fancies away from thee. [_Embraces her._ + +_Olive_ (_freeing herself_). This is no time for love-making, Paul. +I will mind the house well and keep at prayer. Thou need'st not +fear. Now, haste, haste! Do not wait! + +_Paul._ I will be on the Boston path in a half-hour. Good-by, +Olive. Please God, I'll bring thee back good news. [_Exit_ Paul. + +[Olive _stands in the door watching him depart._ Phoebe _steals up +to her and throws her arms around her._ Olive _turns suddenly and +embraces the child._ + +_Olive._ Come, sweet; while Paul sets forth to the Governor, we +will go to prayer. Nancy, come, we will go to prayer that the +Governor may lend a gracious ear, and our feet be kept clear of the +snares of Satan. Come, we will go to prayer; there is naught left +for us but to go to prayer! + +_Tableau--Curtain falls._ + + + + +Act V. + + +_Six weeks later._ Giles Corey's _cell in Salem jail. It is early +morning._ Giles, _heavily chained, is sleeping upon his bed. A +noise is heard at the door._ Giles _stirs and raises himself._ + +_Giles._ Yes, Martha, I'm coming. (_Noise continues._) I'm coming, +Martha. (_Stares around the cell._) God help me, but I thought +'twas Martha calling me to supper, and 'tis a month since she died +on Gallows Hill. I verily thought that I smelt the pork frying and +the pan-cakes. + +_The door is opened and the_ Guard, _bringing a dish of porridge, +enters; he sets it on the floor beside the bed, then examines_ +Giles's _chains._ + +_Giles._ Make sure they be strong, else it will verily go hard with +the hussies. They will screech louder yet, and be more like +pin-cushions than ever. Art sure they be strong? 'Twere a pity such +guileless and tender maids should suffer, and old Giles Corey's +hands be rough. He hath hewn wood and handled the plough for nigh +eighty years with them, and now these pretty maids say he hurts +their soft flesh. In truth, they must be sore afflicted. Prithee are +the chains well riveted? I thought last night one link seemed +somewhat loose as though it might be forced, and old Giles Corey +hath still some strength; and hath he witchcraft, as they say, it +might well make him stronger. Be wary about the chains for the sake +of those godly and tender maids. + +[_Exit_ Guard. Giles _takes the dish of porridge and eats._ + +_Giles_ (_making a wry face_). This be rare porridge; it be rare +enough to charge the cook on't with witchcraft. It might well have +been scorched in some hell-fire. I trow Martha would have flung it +to the pigs. I verily thought 'twas Martha calling me to supper, and +I smelt the good food cooking, and Martha hung a month since on +Gallows Hill. Who's that at the door now? + +Guard _opens the door and_ Paul Bayley _enters._ Giles _takes +another spoonful of porridge._ + +_Paul._ Good-day, Goodman Corey. + +_Giles._ Taste this porridge, will ye. + +_Paul_ (_tastes the porridge_). 'Tis burned. + +_Giles._ It be rare food to keep up the soul of an old man who hath +set himself to undergo what I have set myself to undergo. But it +matters not. I trow old Giles Corey may well have eat all his life +unknowingly to this end, and hath now somewhat of strength to fall +back upon. He needs no dainty fare to make him strong to undergo +what he hath set himself. How fares my daughter? + +_Paul._ As well as she can fare, poor lass! I saw her last evening. +She is now calmer in her mind, and she goeth about the house like +her mother. + +_Giles._ Her mother set great store by her. She would often strive +in prayer that she should not make an idol of her before the Lord. + +_Paul._ Goodman, it goes hard to tell you, but I had an audience +yesterday again with Governor Phipps, an' 'twas in vain. + +_Giles_ (_laughing_). In vain, say ye 'twas in vain? Why, I looked +to see the pardon sticking out of your waistcoat pocket! Why went ye +again to Boston? Know ye not that this whole land is now a bedlam, +and the Governors and the magistrates swell the ravings? Seek ye in +bedlam for justice of madmen? It is not now pardon or justice that +we have to think on, but death, and the best that can be made out +on't. Know ye that my trial will be held this afternoon? + +_Paul._ Yes, Goodman Corey. + +_Giles._ Sit ye down on this stool. I have much I would say to ye. + +[Paul _seats himself on a stool._ Giles _sits on his bed._ + +_Giles._ Master Bayley, ye have been long a-courting my daughter. +Do ye propose in good faith to take her to wife? + +_Paul._ With the best faith that be in me. + +_Giles._ Then I tell ye, man, take her speedily--take her within +three weeks. + +_Paul._ I would take her with all my heart, goodman, would she be +willing. + +_Giles._ She must needs be willing. Why, devil take it! be ye not +smart enough to make her willing? It will all go for naught if she +be not willing. Tell her her father bids her. She hath ever minded +her father. + +_Paul._ I will tell her so, goodman. + +_Giles._ Tell her 'tis the last command her father gives her. If +she say no, hear it yes. Do not ye give it up if ye have to drag her +to 't. Why, she must not be left alone in the world. It be a hard +world. Old Giles hath gone far in it, and found it ever a hard +world. Verily it be not cleared any more than the woods of +Massachusetts. It be hard enough for a man; a young maid must needs +have somebody to hold aside the boughs for her. Wed her, if she will +or no. I have somewhat to show ye, Master Bayley. (_Draws a document +from his waistcoat._) See ye this? + +[Paul _takes the document and examines it._ + +_Giles._ See ye what 'tis? + +_Paul._ It is a deed whereby you convey all your property to me, so +I be Olive's husband. Wherefore? + +_Giles._ It be drawn up in good form. It be duly witnessed. You see +that it be all in good form, Paul. + +_Paul._ I see. But wherefore? + +_Giles._ It will stand in law; there will be no getting loose from +it. It be a good and trusty document. But--so be it that this +afternoon I stand trial for witchcraft, and plead guilty or not +guilty, this same good and trusty document will be worth less than +the parchment 'tis writ on. 'Tis so with the law. There will be an +attainder on't. My sons-in-law that testified to the undoing of +Martha and me will have their share, and thou and Olive perchance +have naught in this bedlam. I bear no ill will toward my sons-in-law +and my daughters, who have been put up by them to deal falsely with +Martha and me, but I would not that they have my goods. I bear no +ill will; it becometh not a man so near death to bear ill will. But +they shall not have my goods; I say they shall not. There shall be +no attainder on this document. I will stand mute at my trial. + +_Paul._ Goodman Corey, know you the penalty? + +_Giles._ I trow I know it better than the catechism. 'Tis to be +pressed beneath stone weights until I be dead. + +_Paul._ I say you shall not do this thing. What think you I care +for your goods? I'll have naught to do with them, nor will Olive. +This is madness! + +_Giles._ 'Tis not all for the goods. I would Olive had them, and +not those foul traitors; but 'tis not all. Were there no goods and +no attainder, I would still do this thing. Paul, they say that +Martha spake fair words when they had her there on Gallows Hill. + +_Paul._ She spake like a martyr at the door of heaven. + +_Giles._ Did they let her speak long? + +_Paul._ They cut her short, Minister Parris saying, "Let not this +firebrand of hell burn longer." + +_Giles._ Then they put the rope to her neck. Martha had a fair neck +when she was a maid. Did she struggle much? + +_Paul._ Not much. + +_Giles._ Then they left her hanging there a space. It was a wet +day, and the rain pelted on her. I remember it was a wet day. The +rain pelted on her, and the wind blew, and she swung in it. I swear +to thee, lass, I will make amends! I will suffer twenty pangs for +thy one. + +_Paul._ 'Tis not you who should make amends. + +_Giles._ I tell ye I did Martha harm. When she chid my folly and +the folly of others, I did bawl out at her, and say among folk +things to her undoing, though I meant it not as they took it. Now I +will make amends, and the King himself shall not stop me. Martha was +a good wife. I know not how I shall make myself seemly for the court +this afternoon. My coat has many stitches loose in it. She was a +good wife. I will make amends to thee, lass; I swear I shall make +amends to thee! I will come where thou art by a harder road than the +one I made thee go. + +_Paul._ It was not you, goodman. You overblame yourself. Those +foul-mouthed jades did it, and those bloodthirsty magistrates. + +_Giles._ I tell ye I did part on't. I was wroth with her that she +made light of this witch-work over which I was so mightily wrought +up, and I said words that they twisted to her undoing. Verily, words +can be made to fit all fancies. 'Twere safer to be mute--as I'll be +this afternoon. + +_Paul._ Goodman Corey, you must not think of this thing. There is +still some hope from the trial. They will not dare murder you too. + +_Giles._ There be some things in this world folks may not bear, but +there be no wickedness they'll stick at when they get started on the +way to 't. 'Tis death in any case, and what would ye have me do? +Stand before their mad worships and those screeching jades, and +plead as though I were before folk of sound mind and understanding? +Think ye I would so humble myself for naught? + +_Paul._ But Olive! I tell you 'twill kill her! There may be a +chance yet, and you should throw not away however small a one for +Olive's sake. She can bear no more. + +_Giles._ There is no chance, and if there were--I tell ye if I had +a hundred daughters, and every one such a maid as she, and every one +were to break her heart, I would do this thing I have set myself to +do. There be that which is beyond human ties to force a man, there +be that which is at the root of things. + +_Paul._ We will have none of your goods, I tell you that, Giles +Corey! + +_Giles._ Goods. The goods be the least of it! Old Giles Corey be +not a deep man. I trow he hath had a somewhat hard skull, but when a +man draws in sight of death he hath a better grasp at his wits than +he hath dreamed of. This be verily a mightier work than ye think. It +shall be not only old Giles Corey that lies pressed to death under +the stones, but the backbone of this great evil in the land shall be +broke by the same weight. I tell ye it will be so. I have clearer +understanding, now I be so near the end on't. They will dare no more +after me. To-day shall I stand mute at my trial, but my dumbness +shall drown out the clamor of my accusers. Old Giles Corey will have +the best on't. 'Tis for this, and not for the goods, I will stand +mute; for this, and to make amends to Martha. + +_Paul._ Giles Corey, you shall not die this dreadful death. If +death it must be, and it may yet not be, choose the easier one. + +_Giles._ Think ye I cannot do it? (_Rises._) Master Paul Bayley, +you see before you Giles Corey. He be verily an old man, he be over +eighty years old, but there be somewhat of the first of him left. He +hath never had much power of speech; his words have been rough, and +not given to pleasing. He hath been a rude man, an unlettered man, +and a sinner. He hath brawled and blasphemed with the worst of them +in his day. He hath given blow for blow, and I trow the other man's +cheek smarted sorer than old Giles's. Now he be a man of the +covenant, but he be still stiff with his old ways, and hath no +nimbleness to shunt a blow. Old Giles Corey hath no fine wisdom to +save his life, and no grace of tongue, but he hath power to die as +he will, and no man hath greater. + +_Paul._ Goodman Corey, I-- [Guard _opens the door._ + +_Guard._ Here is your daughter to see you, Goodman Corey. + +_Giles._ Tell her I will see her not. What brought her here? I +know. Minister Parris hath sent her, thinking to tempt me from my +plan. I will see her not. + +_Olive_ (_from without_). Father, you cannot send me away. + +_Giles._ Why come you here? Go home and mind the house. + +_Olive._ Father, I pray you not to send me away. + +_Paul._ If you be hard with her, you will kill her. + +_Giles._ Come in. + +_Enter_ Olive. + +_Olive._ What is this you will do, father? + +_Giles._ My duty, lass. + +_Olive._ Father, you will not die this dreadful death? + +_Giles._ That will I, lass. + +_Olive._ Then I say to you, father, so will I also. The stones will +press you down a few hours' space, and they will press me down so +long as I may live. You will be soon dead and out of the pains, but +you will leave your death with the living. + +_Giles._ Then must the living bear it. + +_Olive._ Father, you may yet be acquitted. Plead at your trial. + +_Giles._ Work the bellows in the face of the north wind. Oh, lass, +why came you here? 'Tis worse than the stones. Talk no more to me, +good lass; womenkind should meddle not with men's plans. But promise +me you will wed with Paul here within three weeks. + +_Olive._ I will never wed. + +_Giles._ Ye will not, hey? Ye will wed with Master Paul Bayley +within three weeks. 'Tis the last command your father gives thee. + +_Olive._ Think you I can wed when you-- + +_Giles._ Ay, I do think so, lass, and so ye will. + +_Olive._ Father, I will not. But if you plead I will, I promise you +I will. + +_Giles._ I will not, and you will. Lass, since you be here, I pray +you set a stitch in this seam in my coat. I would look tidy at the +trial, for thy mother's sake. Hast thou thy huswife with thee? + +_Olive._ Yes, father. + +[Olive _threads a needle, and standing beside her father, sets the +stitch; weeps as she does so._ + +_Giles._ Know you every tear adds weight to the stones, lass? + +_Olive._ Then will I weep not. [_Mends._ + +_Giles._ Be the child and the old woman well? + +_Olive._ Yes, father. + +_Giles._ Look out for them as you best can. And see to 't the +little maid's linen chest is well filled, as your mother would have. + +[Olive _breaks off the thread._ + +_Giles._ Be the stitch set strong? + +_Olive._ Yes, father. + +_Giles_ (_turning and folding her to his arms_). Oh, my good lass, +the stones be naught, but this cometh hard, this cometh hard! Could +they not have spared me this? + +_Olive._ Father, listen to me, listen to me-- + +_Giles._ Lass, I must listen to naught but the voice of God. 'Tis +that speaks, and bids me do this thing. Thou must come not betwixt +thy father and his God. + +_Olive._ Father! father! + +_Giles._ Go, Olive, I can bear no more. Tell me thou wilt wed as I +command you. + +_Olive._ As thou wilt, father! father! but I will love no man as I +love thee. + +_Giles._ Go, lass. Give me a kiss. There, now go! I command thee to +go! Paul, take her hence. I charge ye do by her when her father be +dead and gone, as ye would were he at thy elbow. Take her hence. I +would go to prayer. + +[_Exeunt_ Paul _and_ Olive. + +_Olive_ (_as the door closes_). Father! father! + +Giles Corey _stands alone in cell. Curtain falls._ + + + + +Act VI. + + +_Three weeks later. Lane near Salem overhung by blossoming +apple-trees. Enter_ Hathorne, Corwin, _and_ Parris. + +_Corwin._ 'Tis better here, a little removed from the field where +they are putting Giles Corey to death. I could bear the sight of it +no longer. + +_Hathorne._ You are fainthearted, good Master Corwin. + +_Corwin._ Fainthearted or not, 'tis too much for me. I was brought +not up in the shambles, nor bred butcher by trade. + +_Parris._ Your worship, you should strive in prayer, lest you +falter not in the strife against Satan. + +_Corwin._ I know not that I have faltered in any strife against +Satan. + +_Parris._ Perchance 'tis but your worship's delicate frame of body +causeth you to shrink from this stern duty. + +_Hathorne._ This torment of Giles Corey's can last but a little +space now. He hath still his chance to speak and avert his death, +and he will do it erelong. They have increased the weights mightily. +Fear not, good Master Corwin, Giles Corey will not die; erelong his +old tongue will wag like a millwheel. + +_Corwin._ I doubt much, good Master Hathorne, if Giles Corey speak. +And if he does not speak, and so be put to death, as is decreed, I +doubt much if the temper of the people will stand more. There are +those who have sympathy with Giles Corey. I heard many murmurs in +the streets of Salem this morning. + +_Hathorne._ Let them murmur. + +_Parris._ Ay, let them murmur, so long as we wield the sword of the +Lord and of Gideon. + +_Enter first_ Messenger. + +_Hathorne._ Here comes a man from the field. How goes it now with +Giles Corey? + +_Messenger._ Your worship, Giles Corey has not spoken. + +_Parris._ And he hath been under the weights since early light. +Truly such obstinacy is marvellous. [_Exit_ Messenger. + +_Hathorne._ Satan gives a strength beyond human measure to his +disciples. + +_Enter_ Olive _and_ Paul Bayley, _appearing in the distance._ Olive +_wears a white gown and white bonnet._ + +_Hathorne._ Who is that maid coming in a bride bonnet? + +_Corwin._ 'Tis Corey's daughter. I marvel that Paul lets her come +hither. 'Tis no place for her, so near. Master Hathorne, let us +withdraw a little way. I would not see her distress. I am somewhat +shaken in nerve this morning. + +[Corwin, Hathorne, _and_ Parris _exeunt at other end of lane._ + +_Olive_ (_as she and_ Paul _advance_). Who were those men, Paul? + +_Paul._ The magistrates and Minister Parris, sweet. + +_Olive._ Are they gone? + +_Paul._ Yes, they are quite out of sight. Oh, why wouldst thou come +here, dear heart? + +_Olive._ Thou thinkest to cheat me, Paul; but thou canst not cheat +me. Three fields away to the right have they dragged my father this +morning. I knew it, I knew it, although you strove so hard to keep +it from me. I'll be as near my father's death-bed on my wedding-day +as I can. + +_Paul._ I pray thee, sweetheart, come away with me. This will do no +good. + +_Olive._ Loyalty doth good to the heart that holds it, if to no +other. Think you I'll forsake my father because 'tis my wedding-day, +Paul? Oh, I trow not, I trow not, or I'd make thee no true wife. + +_Paul._ It but puts thee to needless torment. + +_Olive._ Torment! torment! Think of what he this moment bears! Oh, +my father, my father! Paul Bayley, why have I wedded you this +dreadful day! + +_Paul._ Hush! Thy father wished it, sweetheart. + +_Olive._ I swear to you I'll never love any other than my father. I +love you not. + +_Paul._ Thou needst not, poor lass! + +_Olive_ (_clinging to him_). Nay, I love thee, but I hate myself for +it on this day. + +_Paul_ (_caressing her_). Poor lass! Poor lass! + +_Olive._ Why wear I this bridal gear, and my father over yonder on +his dreadful death-bed? Why could you not have gone your own way and +let me gone mine all the rest of my life in black apparel, +a-mourning for my father? That would have beseemed me. This needed +not have been so; it needed never have been so. + +_Paul._ Never? I tell thee, sweet, as well say to these apple +blossoms that they need never be apples, and to that rose-bush +against the wall that its buds need not be roses. In faith, we be +far set in that course of nature, dear, with the apple blossoms and +the rose-buds, where the beginning cannot be without the end. Our +own motion be lost, and we be swept along with a current that is +mightier than death, whether we would have it so or not. + +_Olive._ I know not. I only know I would be faithful to my poor +father. But 'twas his last wish that I should wed thee thus. + +_Paul._ Yes, dear. + +_Olive._ He said so that morning before his trial. Oh, Paul, I can +see it now, the trial! I have been to the trial every day since. +Shall I go every day of my life? Perchance thou may often come home +and find thy wife gone to the trial, and no supper. I will go on my +wedding-day; my father shall have no slights put upon him. I can see +him stand there, mute. They cry out upon him and mock him and lay +false charges upon him, and he stands mute. The judge declares the +dreadful penalty, and he stands mute. Oh, my father, my poor father! +I tell ye my father will not mind anything. The Governor and the +justices may command him as they will, the afflicted may clamor and +gibe as they will, and I may pray to him, but he will not mind, he +will stand mute. I tell ye there be not power enough in the colony +to make him speak. Ye know not my father. He will have the best of +it. + +_Paul._ Thou speakest like his daughter now. Keep thyself up to +this, sweet. The daughter of a hero should have some brave stuff in +her. Thy father does a greater deed than thou knowest. His dumbness +will save the colonies from more than thou dreamest of. 'Twill put +an end to this dreadful madness; he himself hath foretold it. [_A +clamor is heard._ + +_Olive._ Paul, Paul, what is that? + +_Paul._ Naught but some boys shouting, sweet. + +_Olive._ 'Twas not. Oh, my father, my father! + +_Paul._ Olive, thou must not stay here. + +_Olive._ I must stay. Who is coming? [Paul _and_ Olive _step +aside._ + +_Enter second_ Messenger. Hathorne, Corwin, _and_ Parris _advance to +meet him._ + +_Hathorne._ How goes it now with Giles Corey? + +_Messenger._ Your worship, Giles Corey hath not spoken. + +_Hathorne._ What! Have they not increased the weights? + +_Messenger._ They have doubled the weights, your worship. + +_Parris._ I trow Satan himself hath put his shoulder under the +stones to take off the strain. [_Exit_ Messenger. + +_Hathorne._ 'Tis a marvel the old tavern-brawler endures so long, +but he'll soon speak now. + +_Corwin._ Hush, good master, his daughter can hear. + +_Hathorne._ Let her then withdraw if it please her not. I'll +warrant he cannot bear much more; he will soon speak. + +_Parris._ Yea, he cannot withstand the double weight unless his +master help him. + +[Corwin _speaks aside to_ Paul _and motions him to take_ Olive +_away._ Paul _takes her by the arm. She shakes her head and will +not go._ + +_Hathorne._ I trow 'twill take other than an unlettered clown like +Giles Corey to stand firm under this stress. He'll speak soon. + +_Parris._ Yea, that he will. He can never hold out. He hath not the +mind for it. + +_Hathorne._ It takes a man of finer wit than he to undergo it. He +will speak. Oh yes, fear ye not, he will speak. + +_Olive_ (_breaking away from_ Paul). My father will _not_ speak! + +_Hathorne._ Girl! + +_Olive._ My father will _not_ speak. I tell ye there be not stones +enough in the provinces to make him speak. Ye know not my father. My +father will have the best of ye all. + +_Enter third_ Messenger, _running._ + +_Hathorne._ How goes it now with Giles Corey? + +_Messenger._ Giles Corey is dead, and he has not spoken. + +Olive _clings to_ Paul _as curtain falls._ + + +THE END. + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Giles Corey, Yeoman, by Mary E. 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