COREY. 
All my dear oxen dead.  I loved them, Martha,
Next to yourself.  I liked to look at them,
And watch the breath come out of their wide nostrils,
And see their patient eyes.  Somehow I thought
It gave me strength only to look at them. 
And how they strained their necks against the yoke
If I but spoke, or touched them with the goad! 
They were my friends; and when Gloyd came and told me
They were all drowned, I could have drowned myself
From sheer vexation; and I said as much
To Gloyd and others.

MARTHA. 
              Do not trust John Gloyd
With anything you would not have repeated.

COREY. 
As I came through the woods this afternoon,
Impatient at my loss, and much perplexed
With all that I had heard there in the village,
The yellow leaves lit up the trees about me
Like an enchanted palace, and I wished
I knew enough of magic or of Witchcraft
To change them into gold.  Then suddenly
A tree shook down some crimson leaves upon me,
Like drops of blood, and in the path before me
Stood Tituba the Indian, the old crone.

MARTHA. 
Were you not frightened?

COREY. 
                    No, I do not think
I know the meaning of that word.  Why frightened? 
I am not one of those who think the Lord
Is waiting till He catches them some day
In the back yard alone!  What should I fear? 
She started from the bushes by the path,
And had a basket full of herbs and roots
For some witch-broth or other,—­the old hag.

MARTHA. 
She has been here to-day.

COREY. 
                With hand outstretched
She said:  “Giles Corey, will you sign the Book?”
“Avaunt!” I cried:  “Get thee behind me, Satan!”
At which she laughed and left me.  But a voice
Was whispering in my ear continually: 
“Self-murder is no crime.  The life of man
Is his, to keep it or to throw away!”

MARTHA. 
’T was a temptation of the Evil One! 
Giles, Giles! why will you harbor these dark thoughts?

COREY (rising). 
I am too tired to talk.  I’ll go to bed.

MARTHA. 
First tell me something about Bridget Bishop. 
How did she look?  You saw her?  You were there?

COREY. 
I’ll tell you that to-morrow, not to-night. 
I’ll go to bed.

MARTHA. 
               First let us pray together.

COREY. 
I cannot pray to-night.

MARTHA. 
                Say the Lord’s Prayer,
And that will comfort you.

COREY. 
                          I cannot say,
“As we forgive those that have sinned against us,”
When I do not forgive them.

MARTHA (kneeling on the hearth). 
                     God forgive you!