University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—Giles Corey's farm. Morning. Enter Corey, with a horseshoe and a hammer.
COREY.
The Lord hath prospered me. The rising sun
Shines on my Hundred Acres and my woods
As if he loved them. On a morn like this
I can forgive mine enemies, and thank God
For all his goodness unto me and mine.
My orchard groans with russets and pear-mains;
My ripening corn shines golden in the sun;
My barns are crammed with hay, my cattle thrive;
The birds sing blithely on the trees around me!
And blither than the birds my heart within me.
But Satan still goes up and down the earth;
And to protect this house from his assaults,
And keep the powers of darkness from my door,
This horseshoe will I nail upon the threshold.
Nails down the horseshoe.
There, ye night-hags and witches that torment
The neighborhood, ye shall not enter here!—
What is the matter in the field?—John Gloyd!
The cattle are all running to the woods!—
John Gloyd! Where is the man?
Enter John Gloyd.
Look there!
What ails the cattle? Are they all bewitched?
They run like mad.

GLOYD.
They have been overlooked.

COREY.
The Evil Eye is on them sure enough.
Call all the men. Be quick. Go after them!

Exit Gloyd and enter Martha.
MARTHA.
What is amiss?

COREY.
The cattle are bewitched.
They are broken loose and making for the woods.

MARTHA.
Why will you harbor such delusions, Giles?
Bewitched? Well, then it was John Gloyd bewitched them;
I saw him even now take down the bars
And turn them loose! They 're only frolicsome.

COREY.
The rascal!

MARTHA.
I was standing in the road,
Talking with Goodwife Proctor, and I saw him.

COREY.
With Proctor's wife? And what says Goodwife Proctor?

MARTHA.
Sad things indeed; the saddest you can hear
Of Bridget Bishop. She 's cried out upon!

COREY.
Poor soul! I've known her forty year or more.
She was the widow Wasselby; and then
She married Oliver, and Bishop next.
She 's had three husbands. I remember well
My games of shovel-board at Bishop's tavern
In the old merry days, and she so gay
With her red paragon bodice and her ribbons!
Ah, Bridget Bishop always was a Witch!

MARTHA.
They'll little help her now,—her caps and ribbons,
And her red paragon bodice, and her plumes,
With which she flaunted in the Meeting-house!
When next she goes there, it will be for trial.

COREY.
When will that be?

MARTHA.
This very day at ten.

COREY.
Then get you ready. We will go and see it.
Come; you shall ride behind me on the pillion.

MARTHA.
Not I. You know I do not like such things.
I wonder you should. I do not believe
In Witches nor in Witchcraft.

COREY.
Well, I do.
There 's a strange fascination in it all,
That draws me on and on, I know not why.

MARTHA.
What do we know of spirits good or ill,
Or of their power to help us or to harm us?

COREY.
Surely what 's in the Bible must be true.
Did not an Evil Spirit come on Saul?
Did not the Witch of Endor bring the ghost
Of Samuel from his grave? The Bible says so.

MARTHA.
That happened very long ago.

COREY.
With God
There is no long ago.

MARTHA.
There is with us.

COREY.
And Mary Magdalene had seven devils,
And he who dwelt among the tombs a legion!

MARTHA.
God's power is infinite. I do not doubt it.
If in His providence He once permitted
Such things to be among the Israelites,
It does not follow He permits them now,
And among us who are not Israelites.
But we will not dispute about it, Giles.
Go to the village, if you think it best,
And leave me here; I'll go about my work.

[Exit into the house.
COREY.
And I will go and saddle the gray mare.
The last word always. That is woman's nature.
If an old man will marry a young wife,
He must make up his mind to many things.
It 's putting new cloth into an old garment,
When the strain comes, it is the old gives way.
Goes to the door.
O Martha! I forgot to tell you something.
I 've had a letter from a friend of mine,
A certain Richard Gardner of Nantucket,
Master and owner of a whaling-vessel;
He writes that he is coming down to see us.
I hope you'll like him.

MARTHA.
I will do my best.

COREY.
That 's a good woman. Now I will be gone.
I 've not seen Gardner for this twenty year;
But there is something of the sea about him,—
Something so open, generous, large, and strong,
It makes me love him better than a brother.

[Exit.
Martha comes to the door.
MARTHA.
Oh these old friends and cronies of my husband,
These captains from Nantucket and the Cape,
That come and turn my house into a tavern
With their carousing! Still, there 's something frank
In these seafaring men that makes me like them.
Why, here 's a horseshoe nailed upon the doorstep!
Giles has done this to keep away the Witches.
I hope this Richard Gardner will bring with him
A gale of good sound common-sense, to blow
The fog of these delusions from his brain!

COREY
(within).
Ho! Martha! Martha!
Enter Corey.
Have you seen my saddle?

MARTHA.
I saw it yesterday.

COREY.
Where did you see it?

MARTHA.
On a gray mare, that somebody was riding
Along the village road.

COREY.
Who was it? Tell me.

MARTHA.
Some one who should have stayed at home.

COREY
(restraining himself).
I see!
Don't vex me, Martha. Tell me where it is.

MARTHA.
I 've hidden it away.

COREY.
Go fetch it me.

MARTHA.
Go find it.

COREY.
No. I'll ride down to the village
Bare-back; and when the people stare and say,
“Giles Corey, where 's your saddle?” I will answer,
“A Witch has stolen it.” How shall you like that?

MARTHA.
I shall not like it.

COREY.
Then go fetch the saddle.
[Exit Martha.
If an old man will marry a young wife,
Why then—why then—why then—he must spell Baker!

A local expression for doing anything difficult. In the old spelling-books, Baker was the first word of two syllables, and when a child came to it he thought he had a hard task before him.

Enter Martha with the saddle, which she throws down.
MARTHA.
There! There 's the saddle.

COREY.
Take it up.

MARTHA.
I won't!

COREY.
Then let it lie there. I'll ride to the village,
And say you are a Witch.

MARTHA.
No, not that, Giles.

She takes up the saddle.
COREY.
Now come with me, and saddle the gray mare
With your own hands; and you shall see me ride
Along the village road as is becoming
Giles Corey of the Salem Farms, your husband!

[Exeunt.