_Hathorne._ I will strive to obey your commands well, Goodman
Corey. Good-day, Widow Hutchins; your daughter shall soon find
relief.

_Parris._ Good-day, Widow Hutchins, and be of good cheer.

[_Exeunt_ Hathorne _and_ Parris, _while_ Widow Hutchins
_courtesies._

_Giles._ Well, I must even be going too. I have my cattle to water.
I but bolted in when I heard the poor lass screech, thinking I might
do somewhat. But good Master Hathorne will see to it. Hear that! Do
ye go up to her, widow, and mix her up a bowl of yarb tea, till they
put the trollop in prison. I'm off to water my cattle, then devil
take me if I don't give the sheriffs a hand if they need it. Goody
Osborn's house is nigh mine. Good-day, widow. [_Exit_ Giles.

_Hutchins_ (_laughing_). Give the sheriffs a hand, will he?
Perchance he will, but I doubt me if 'tis not a fisted one. He sets
his life by Goody Corey, however he rate her. (_A scream from above
of_ "Mother! Mother!") Yes, Ann, I'm coming, I'm coming! [_Exit._

_Phoebe_ (_crawls out from under the bed_). Now, Nancy, we've got a
chance to run. Come out, quick! Oh, if Uncle Corey had caught us
here!

_Nancy._ I can't get out. Oh! oh! The rheumatiz stiffened me so I
couldn't double up, and now it has stiffened me so I can't undouble.
No, 'tis not rheumatiz, 'tis Goody Bishop has bewitched me. I can't
get out.