Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893.
Christus: A MysteryPart III. The New England Tragedies. Giles Corey of the Salem Farms. Act IV
S
Here is John Gloyd. Ask him; he knows.
Whose turn is it to-day?
It will go hard with her with all her praying.
The hypocrite! She ’s always on her knees;
But she prays to the Devil when she prays.
Let us go in.
A Justice of the Court, and Quartermaster
In the Three County Troop. He ’ll sift the matter.
That ’s Corwin with him; and the man in black
Is Cotton Mather, Minister of Boston.
So great a crowd before.
We shall find room enough by elbowing
Our way among them. Put your shoulder to it.
Of Goodwife Bishop.
I ’ll find a place for you. They ’ll want me there.
I am a friend of Corey’s, as you know,
And he can’t do without me just at present.[Exeunt.
The Jurors of our Sovereign Lord and Lady
The King and Queen, here present, do accuse you
Of having on the tenth of June last past,
And divers other times before and after,
Wickedly used and practised certain arts
Called Witchcrafts, Sorceries, and Incantations,
Against one Mary Walcot, single woman,
Of Salem Village; by which wicked arts
The aforesaid Mary Walcot was tormented,
Tortured, afflicted, pined, consumed, and wasted,
Against the peace of our Sovereign Lord and Lady
The King and Queen, as well as of the Statute
Made and provided in that case. What say you?
To hear you pray, but to examine you
In whatsoever is alleged against you.
Why do you hurt this person?
I am not guilty of the charge against me.
Avoid, avoid, Witch!
I never had to do with any Witchcraft
Since I was born. I am a gospel woman.
Oh, give me leave to pray!
See, she has pinched my hands!
Upon her hands?
Apart from her. I did not touch her hands.
She is bewitched?
I am no Witch, and have no faith in Witches.
To see you yesterday, how did you know
Beforehand why they came?
The children said I hurt them, and I thought
These people came to question me about it.
To note the clothes you wore?
What others said about it.
Say, did you tell her?
I did not tell her. It was some one else.
How dare you tell a lie in this assembly?
Who told you of the clothes? Confess the truth.
You bite your lips, but do not answer me!
The children said I troubled them.
Why do you trouble them?
And, when my brother thrust her with his sword,
He tore her gown, and cut a piece away.
Here are they both, the spindle and the cloth.
Of what has now been said. What answer make you?
It is the Prince of Darkness, and not God.
If you would look for mercy, you must look
In God’s way, by confession of your guilt.
Why does your spectre haunt and hurt this person?
In Samuel’s shape, a saint and glorified,
May come in whatsoever shape he chooses.
I cannot help it. I am sick at heart!
I see a little bird, a yellow bird,
Perched on her finger; and it pecks at me.
Ah, it will tear mine eyes out!
Upon the rafters. It is gone; is vanished.
Wipe the sweat from my forehead. I am faint.
To this young woman?
Or touched it?
Has taken my shape to do these evil deeds,
I cannot help it. I am innocent.
That you would open their eyes?
If you call me a sorceress, you are blind!
If you accuse the innocent, you are blind!
Can the innocent be guilty?
On one occasion hide your husband’s saddle
To hinder him from coming to the Sessions?
To waste his time pursuing such illusions.
Just now upon your hand?
You showed to this young woman, and besought her
To write in it?
I showed her none, nor have none.
Is the Communion Day, but Martha Corey
Will not be there!
What can I do or say?
That you are guilty.
Will you condemn me on such evidence,—
You who have known me for so many years?
Will you condemn me in this house of God,
Where I so long have worshipped with you all?
Where I have eaten the bread and drunk the wine
So many times at our Lord’s Table with you?
Bear witness, you that hear me; you all know
That I have led a blameless life among you,
That never any whisper of suspicion
Was breathed against me till this accusation.
And shall this count for nothing? Will you take
My life away from me, because this girl,
Who is distraught, and not in her right mind,
Accuses me of things I blush to name?
Giles Corey!
You were impeded strangely in your prayers?
That something hindered you? and that you left
This woman here, your wife, kneeling alone
Upon the hearth?
To you belonging, broke from their enclosure
And leaped into the river, and were drowned?
That they were overlooked?
I see; they ’re drawing round me closer, closer,
A net I cannot break, cannot escape from!(Aside.)
You see her now; this woman, your own wife.
She never harmed me, never hindered me
In anything but what I should not do.
And I bear witness in the sight of heaven,
And in God’s house here, that I never knew her
As otherwise than patient, brave, and true,
Faithful, forgiving, full of charity,
A virtuous and industrious and good wife!
You are a witness, not an advocate!
Here, Sheriff, take this woman back to prison.
Do you not hear the drum? Do you not see them?
Go quick. They ’re waiting for you. You are late.
Giles Corey, go not hence. You are yourself
Accused of Witchcraft and of Sorcery
By many witnesses. Say, are you guilty?
Mine and my wife’s. Therefore I will not answer.
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?
Have you not seen the supernatural power
Of this old man? Have you not seen him do
Strange feats of strength?
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.
What answer do you make to this, Giles Corey?
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!
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!