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