Parris. I suspect there be verily evil work in the cape, and a witch’s bodkin hath pierced these cunning eyelets.  It goeth so fast now that erelong every guileless, senseless thing in our houses, down to the tinder-box and the candle-stick, will find hinges and turn into a gate, whereby witchcraft can enter.  You say, Widow Hutchins, that Olive Corey gave this cape to your daughter?

Hutchins. That did she.  Yesterday evening Ann went down to Goody Corey’s house for a little chat; she and Olive have been gossips ever since they were children, though lately there hath been somewhat of bitterness betwixt them.

Parris. How mean you?

Hutchins. I have laid it upon my mind ere now to tell you, being much wrought up concerning it, and thinking that you might give me somewhat of spiritual consolation and advice.  It was in this wise.  Paul Bayley, who, they say, goeth every Sabbath night to Goody Corey’s house and sitteth up until unseemly hours with Olive, looked once with a favorable eye upon my daughter Ann.  Had your worships seen him, as I saw him one day in the meeting-house, look at Ann when she wore her green paduasoy, you had not doubted.  Youths look not thus upon maidens unless they be inclined toward them.  But this hussy Olive Corey did come between Paul and my Ann, and that not of her own merits.  There is nobody in Salem Village who would say that Olive Corey’s looks be aught in comparison with my Ann’s, but I trow Goody Corey hath arts which make amends for lack of beauty.  I trow all ill-favored folk might be fair would they have such arts used upon them.

Hathorne. What mean you by that saying?

Hutchins. I mean Goody Corey hath devilish arts whereby she giveth her daughter a beauty beyond her own looks, wherewith she may entice young men.

Hathorne. You say that this cape caused your daughter torment?

Hutchins. Your worships, it lay on her neck like a fire-brand, and she thought she should die ere she cast it off.

Hathorne. Widow Hutchins, will you now put on the cape?

Hutchins. Oh, your worship, I dare not put it on!  I fear it will be the death of me if I do.

Hathorne. Minister Parris, wilt thou put on the cape?

Parris. Good Master Hathorne, it would ill behoove a minister of the gospel to put himself in jeopardy when so many be depending upon him to lead them in this dreadful conflict with the powers of darkness.  But do thou put on the mantle the while I go to prayer to avert any ill that may come of it.

Hathorne. Nay, I will make no such jest of my office of magistrate as to put this woman’s gear on my shoulders.  I doubt if there be aught in it.  Prithee, Widow Hutchins, when did this torment first come upon the young woman?