vous 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. [_Ex