Giles Corey, Yeoman | Page 9

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