Olive. All is useless, Paul.  His sons-in-law, his own daughters’ husbands, have turned against him!  There is no help anywhere.  My mother will soon be hanged.  Minister Parris said so last night when he came.  And he knelt yonder and prayed that I might no longer practise witchcraft.  My father and mother are lost, and I have brought it upon them.  Talk no more to me, Paul.

Paul. Then, perchance your mother be a witch, Olive Corey.

Olive. My mother is not a witch.

Paul. Doth not Minister Parris say so?  And if he speak truth when he calls you a witch, why speaks he not truth of your mother also?  I trow, if you be a witch, she is.

Olive. My mother is no witch, and I am no witch, Paul Bayley!

Paul. Mind you stick to that, poor lass!  Now, I go to Boston to the Governor.  There lies the only hope for thy parents.

Olive. Think you the Governor will listen?  Oh, he must listen!  Thou hast a masterful way with thee, Paul.  When wilt thou start?  Oh, if I had not thee!

Paul. I would I could make myself twenty-fold ’twixt thee and evil, sweet.  I will get Goodman Nourse’s horse and start to-night.

Olive. Then go, go!  Do not wait!

Paul. I will not wait.  Good-by, dear heart.  Keep good courage, and put foolish fancies away from thee. [Embraces her.

Olive (freeing herself).  This is no time for love-making, Paul.  I will mind the house well and keep at prayer.  Thou need’st not fear.  Now, haste, haste!  Do not wait!

Paul. I will be on the Boston path in a half-hour.  Good-by, Olive.  Please God, I’ll bring thee back good news. [Exit Paul.

[Olive stands in the door watching him depart. Phoebe steals up to her and throws her arms around her. Olive turns suddenly and embraces the child.

Olive. Come, sweet; while Paul sets forth to the Governor, we will go to prayer.  Nancy, come, we will go to prayer that the Governor may lend a gracious ear, and our feet be kept clear of the snares of Satan.  Come, we will go to prayer; there is naught left for us but to go to prayer!

Tableau—­Curtain falls.

Act V.

Six weeks later. Giles Corey’s cell in Salem jail.  It is early morning. Giles, heavily chained, is sleeping upon his bed.  A noise is heard at the door. Giles stirs and raises himself.

Giles. Yes, Martha, I’m coming. (Noise continues.) I’m coming, Martha. (Stares around the cell.) God help me, but I thought ’twas Martha calling me to supper, and ’tis a month since she died on Gallows Hill.  I verily thought that I smelt the pork frying and the pan-cakes.

The door is opened and the Guard, bringing a dish of porridge, enters; he sets it on the floor beside the bed, then examines Giles’s chains.