Blackthorne!

GOODY GURTON.
Mercy! Mercy! Gentle sirs, neighbors, goodwives! I am no witch! I swear
it. I had naught, naught to do with Barbara Williams.

BRADFORD.
A last chance, Goody. Call up your evil powers. Bring back the child,
and it shall be the stocks; but not the pond. Call! Call!

GOODY GURTON.
I have no words. I cannot bring her back. Mercy! Mercy!

BRADFORD
(curtly).
To the pond!

GOODY GURTON
(in a tremulous shriek as Blackthorne and Caldwell begin to bind her in
the ducking-chair).
Oh, no, no, no! I am no witch! I swear it! Will no one speak for me--
will no one----

[Philippe Beaucoeur, who has approached from right but a moment before,
and been partly hidden from view by those in front of him, now steps
forward boldly. The knife in his red sash-belt glitters in the sun. His
dark face is a-light with interest. His bearing is gallantly
determined.

PHILIPPE BEAUCOEUR.