over, and all is quiet again. Then will ye sit in the meeting-house
of a Lord's day, and look over at the place where my poor child was
wont to sit listening in her little Sabbath best, and ye will see
her no more, but will say to yourselves that ye have murdered her.
And then of a week-day ye will see her no more spinning at her wheel
in the doorway, nor tending the flowers in her garden. She will come
smiling in at your doors no more, nor walk the village street, and
ye will always see where she is not, and know that ye have murdered
her. Oh, poor children, ye are in truth young, and your minds, I
doubt not, sore bewildered! If I have spoken harshly to ye, I pray
ye heed it not, except as concerns me. I wot well that I am now done
with this world, and I feel already the wind that bloweth over
Gallows Hill in my face. But consider well ere ye do any harm to my
dear child, else verily the day will come when ye will be more to be
pitied than she. Oh, ye will not harm her! Ye will take back your
accusation! Oh, worshipful magistrates, oh, Minister Parris, I pray
you have mercy upon this child! I pray you mercy as you will need
mercy! [_Falls upon her knees._

_Hathorne._ Rise, woman; it is not now mercy, but justice that has
to be considered.

_Parris._ In straits like this there is no mercy in the divine
will. Shall mercy be shown Satan?

_Corwin._ Mercy Lewis, is it in truth Olive Corey who afflicts you?

_Mercy_ (_hesitating_). I am not so sure as I was.

_Other Afflicted Girls._ Nor I! nor I! nor I!