_ 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?

_Me