_Parris._ Peace, Goodman Corey!

_Hathorne._ Martha Corey, you are now in the hands of authority.
Tell me now why you hurt these persons.

_Martha._ I do not. I pray your worships give me leave to go to
prayer.

_Hathorne._ We have not sent for you to go to prayer, but to
confess that you are a witch.

_Martha._ I am no witch. I am a gospel woman. There is no such
thing as a witch. Shall I confess that I am what doth not exist? It
were not only a lie, but a fool's lie.

_Mercy._ There is a black man whispering in her ears.

_Hathorne._ What saith the black man to you, goodwife?

_Martha._ I pray your worships to ask the maid. Perchance, since
she sees him, she can also hear what he saith better than I.

_Hathorne._ Why do you not tell how the devil comes in your shape
and hurts these maids?

_Martha._ How can I tell how? I was never acquaint with the ways of
the devil. I leave it to those wise maids who are so well acquaint
to tell how. Perchance he hath whispered it in their ears.

_Afflicted Girls._ Oh, there is a yellow bird! There is a yellow