The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in six volumes |
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The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | ||
Scene II.
—The Green in front of the Meeting-house in Salem Village. People coming and going. Enter Giles Corey.COREY.
A melancholy end! Who would have thought
That Bridget Bishop e'er would come to this?
Accused, convicted, and condemned to death
For Witchcraft! And so good a woman too!
A FARMER.
Good morrow, neighbor Corey.
COREY
(not hearing him).
Who is safe?
How do I know but under my own roof
I too may harbor Witches, and some Devil
Be plotting and contriving against me?
FARMER.
He does not hear. Good morrow, neighbor Corey!
COREY.
Good morrow.
FARMER.
Have you seen John Proctor lately?
395
No, I have not.
FARMER.
Then do not see him, Corey.
COREY.
Why should I not?
FARMER.
Because he's angry with you.
So keep out of his way. Avoid a quarrel.
COREY.
Why does he seek to fix a quarrel on me?
FARMER.
He says you burned his house.
COREY.
I burn his house?
If he says that, John Proctor is a liar!
The night his house was burned I was in bed,
And I can prove it! Why, we are old friends!
He could not say that of me.
FARMER.
He did say it.
I heard him say it.
COREY.
Then he shall unsay it.
FARMER.
He said you did it out of spite to him
For taking part against you in the quarrel
You had with your John Gloyd about his wages.
He says you murdered Goodell; that you trampled
Upon his body till he breathed no more.
And so beware of him; that 's my advice!
[Exit.
396
By Heaven! this is too much! I'll seek him out,
And make him eat his words, or strangle him.
I'll not be slandered at a time like this,
When every word is made an accusation,
When every whisper kills, and every man
Walks with a halter round his neck!
Enter Gloyd in haste.
What now?
GLOYD.
I came to look for you. The cattle—
COREY.
Well,
What of them? Have you found them?
GLOYD.
They are dead.
I followed them through the woods, across the meadows;
Then they all leaped into the Ipswich River,
And swam across, but could not climb the bank,
And so were drowned.
COREY.
You are to blame for this;
For you took down the bars, and let them loose.
GLOYD.
That I deny. They broke the fences down.
You know they were bewitched.
COREY.
Ah, my poor cattle!
The Evil Eye was on them; that is true.
Day of disaster! Most unlucky day!
Why did I leave my ploughing and my reaping
397
Oh, I could drown myself for sheer vexation!
[Exit.
GLOYD.
He 's going for his cattle. He won't find them.
By this time they have drifted out to sea.
They will not break his fences any more,
Though they may break his heart. And what care I?
[Exit.
The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | ||