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’ll 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.

Oh, 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.