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