COREY. 
I will not make believe!  I say to-night
There’s something thwarts me when I wish to pray,
And thrusts into my mind, instead of prayers,
Hate and revenge, and things that are not prayers. 
Something of my old self,—­my old, bad life,—­
And the old Adam in me rises up,
And will not let me pray.  I am afraid
The Devil hinders me.  You know I say
Just what I think, and nothing more nor less,
And, when I pray, my heart is in my prayer. 
I cannot say one thing and mean another. 
If I can’t pray, I will not make believe!

[Exit COREY.  MARTHA continues kneeling.

ACT III.

SCENE I. —­ GILES COREY’S kitchen.  Morning.  COREY and MARTHA sitting at the breakfast-table.

COREY (rising). 
Well, now I’ve told you all I saw and heard
Of Bridget Bishop; and I must be gone.

MARTHA. 
Don’t go into the village, Giles, to-day. 
Last night you came back tired and out of humor.

COREY. 
Say, angry; say, right angry.  I was never
In a more devilish temper in my life. 
All things went wrong with me.

MARTHA. 
                You were much vexed;
So don’t go to the village.

COREY (going). 
                            No, I won’t. 
I won’t go near it.  We are going to mow
The Ipswich meadows for the aftermath,
The crop of sedge and rowens.

MARTHA. 
                       Stay a moment,
I want to tell you what I dreamed last night. 
Do you believe in dreams?

COREY. 
                     Why, yes and no. 
When they come true, then I believe in them
When they come false, I don’t believe in them. 
But let me hear.  What did you dream about?

MARTHA. 
I dreamed that you and I were both in prison;
That we had fetters on our hands and feet;
That we were taken before the Magistrates,
And tried for Witchcraft, and condemned to death! 
I wished to pray; they would not let me pray;
You tried to comfort me, and they forbade it. 
But the most dreadful thing in all my dream
Was that they made you testify against me! 
And then there came a kind of mist between us;
I could not see you; and I woke in terror. 
I never was more thankful in my life
Than when I found you sleeping at my side!

COREY (with tenderness). 
It was our talk last night that made you dream. 
I’m sorry for it.  I’ll control myself
Another time, and keep my temper down! 
I do not like such dreams.—­Remember, Martha,
I’m going to mow the Ipswich River meadows;
If Gardner comes, you’ll tell him where to find me.
                                    [Exit.

MARTHA. 
So this delusion grows from bad to worse
First, a forsaken and forlorn old woman,
Ragged and wretched, and without a friend;
Then something higher.  Now it’s Bridget Bishop;
God only knows whose turn it will be next! 
The Magistrates are blind, the people mad! 
If they would only seize the Afflicted Children,
And put them in the Workhouse, where they should be,
There’d be an end of all this wickedness.
                                   [Exit.