HATHORNE. 
Tut, tut, man; do not rant so in your speech;
You are a witness, not an advocate! 
Here, Sheriff, take this woman back to prison.

MARTHA. 
O Giles, this day you’ve sworn away my life!

MARY. 
Go, go and join the Witches at the door. 
Do you not hear the drum?  Do you not see them? 
Go quick.  They’re waiting for you.  You are late.
[Exit MARTHA; COREY following.

COREY. 
The dream! the dream! the dream!

HATHORNE. 
                  What does he say? 
Giles Corey, go not hence.  You are yourself
Accused of Witchcraft and of Sorcery
By many witnesses.  Say, are you guilty?

COREY. 
I know my death is foreordained by you,
Mine and my wife’s.  Therefore I will not answer.

During the rest of the scene he remains silent.

HATHORNE. 
Do you refuse to plead?—­’T were better for you
To make confession, or to plead Not Guilty.—­
Do you not hear me?—­Answer, are you guilty? 
Do you not know a heavier doom awaits you,
If you refuse to plead, than if found guilty? 
Where is John Gloyd?

GLOYD (coming forward). 
               Here am I.

HATHORNE. 
                     Tell the Court
Have you not seen the supernatural power
Of this old man?  Have you not seen him do
Strange feats of strength?

GLOYD. 
            I’ve seen him lead the field,
On a hot day, in mowing, and against
Us younger men; and I have wrestled with him. 
He threw me like a feather.  I have seen him
Lift up a barrel with his single hands,
Which two strong men could hardly lift together,
And, holding it above his head, drink from it.

HATHORNE. 
That is enough; we need not question further. 
What answer do you make to this, Giles Corey?

MARY. 
See there!  See there!

HATHORNE. 
           What is it?  I see nothing.

MARY. 
Look!  Look!  It is the ghost of Robert Goodell,
Whom fifteen years ago this man did murder
By stamping on his body!  In his shroud
He comes here to bear witness to the crime!

The crowd shrinks back from COREY in horror.

HATHORNE. 
Ghosts of the dead and voices of the living
Bear witness to your guilt, and you must die! 
It might have been an easier death.  Your doom
Will be on your own head, and not on ours. 
Twice more will you be questioned of these things;
Twice more have room to plead or to confess. 
If you are contumacious to the Court,
And if, when questioned, you refuse to answer,
Then by the Statute you will be condemned
To the peine forte et dure!  To have your body
Pressed by great weights until you shall be dead! 
And may the Lord have mercy on your soul!

ACT V.

SCENE I. —­ COREy’s farm as in Act II., Scene I. Enter RICHARD
GARDNER, looking round him.