No More Learning

And Jezebel, the wife of Ahab, came
And said to him, Why is thy spirit sad?
And he said unto her, Because I spake
To Naboth, to the Jezreelite, and said,
Give me thy vineyard; and he answered, saying,
I will not give my vineyard unto thee.
And Jezebel, the wife of Ahab, said,
Dost thou not rule the realm of Israel?
Arise, eat bread, and let thy heart be merry;
I will give Naboth's vineyard unto thee.
So she wrote letters in King Ahab's name,
And sealed them with his seal, and sent the letters
Unto the elders that were in his city
Dwelling with Naboth, and unto the nobles;
And in the letters wrote, Proclaim a fast;
And set this Naboth high among the people,
And set two men, the sons of Belial,
Before him, to bear witness and to say,
Thou didst blaspheme against God and the King;
And carry him out and stone him, that he die!
And the elders and the nobles in the city
Did even as Jezebel, the wife of Ahab,
Had sent to them and written in the letters.

And then it came to pass, when Ahab heard
Naboth was dead, that Ahab rose to go
Down unto Naboth's vineyard, and to take
Possession of it. And the word of God
Came to Elijah, saying to him, Arise,
Go down to meet the King of Israel
In Naboth's vineyard, whither he hath gone
To take possession. Thou shalt speak to him,
Saying, Thus saith the Lord! What! hast thou killed
And also taken possession? In the place
Wherein the dogs have licked the blood of Naboth
Shall the dogs lick thy blood,--ay, even thine!

Both of the Deacons start from their seats.

And Ahab then, the King of Israel,
Said, Hast thou found me, O mine enemy?
Elijah the Prophet answered, I have found thee!
So will it be with those who have stirred up
The Sons of Belial here to bear false witness
And swear away the lives of innocent people;
Their enemy will find them out at last,
The Prophet's voice will thunder, I have found thee!
[Exeunt.


SCENE IV. -- Meadows on Ipswich River, COREY and his men mowing;
COREY in advance.

COREY.
Well done, my men. You see, I lead the field!
I'm an old man, but I can swing a scythe
Better than most of you, though you be younger.

Hangs his scythe upon a tree.

GLOYD (aside to the others).
How strong he is! It's supernatural.
No man so old as he is has such strength.
The Devil helps him!

COREY (wiping his forehead).
Now we'll rest awhile,
And take our nooning. What's the matter with you?
You are not angry with me,--are you, Gloyd?
Come, come, we will not quarrel. Let's be friends.
It's an old story, that the Raven said,
"Read the Third of Colossians and fifteenth. "

GLOYD.
You're handier at the scythe, but I can beat you
At wrestling.

COREY.
Well, perhaps so. I don't know.
I never wrestled with you. Why, you're vexed!
Come, come, don't bear a grudge.

GLOYD.
You are afraid.

COREY.
What should I be afraid of? All bear witness
The challenge comes from him. Now, then, my man.

They wrestle, and GLOYD is thrown.

ONE OF THE MEN.
That's a fair fall.

ANOTHER.
'T was nothing but a foil!

OTHERS.
You've hurt him!

COREY (helping GLOYD rise).
No; this meadow-land is soft.
You're not hurt,--are you, Gloyd?

GLOYD (rising).
No, not much hurt.

COREY.
Well, then, shake hands; and there's an end of it.
How do you like that Cornish hug, my lad?
And now we'll see what's in our basket here.

GLOYD (aside).
The Devil and all his imps are in that man!
The clutch of his ten fingers burns like fire!

COREY (reverentially taking off his hat).
God bless the food He hath provided for us,
And make us thankful for it, for Christ's sake!

He lifts up a keg of cider, and drinks from it.

GLOYD.
Do you see that? Don't tell me it's not Witchcraft
Two of us could not lift that cask as he does!

COREY puts down the keg, and opens a basket. A voice is heard
calling.

VOICE.
Ho! Corey, Corey!

COREY.
What is that? I surely
Heard some one calling me by name!

VOICE.
Giles Corey!

Enter a boy, running, and out of breath.

BOY.
Is Master Corey here?

COREY.
Yes, here I am.
BOY.
O Master Corey!

COREY.
Well?

BOY.
Your wife--your wife--

COREY.
What's happened to my wife?

BOY.
She's sent to prison!

COREY.
The dream! the dream! O God, be merciful!

BOY.
She sent me here to tell you.

COREY (putting on his jacket).
Where's my horse?
Don't stand there staring, fellows.
Where's my horse?
[Exit COREY.

GLOYD.
Under the trees there. Run, old man, run, run!
You've got some one to wrestle with you now
Who'll trip your heels up, with your Cornish hug.
If there's a Devil, he has got you now.
Ah, there he goes! His horse is snorting fire!

ONE OF THE MEN.
John Gloyd, don't talk so! It's a shame to talk so!
He's a good master, though you quarrel with him.

GLOYD.
If hard work and low wages make good masters,
Then he is one. But I think otherwise.
Come, let us have our dinner and be merry,
And talk about the old man and the Witches.
I know some stories that will make you laugh.

They sit down on the grass, and eat.

Now there are Goody Cloyse and Goody Good,
Who have not got a decent tooth between them,
And yet these children--the Afflicted Children--
Say that they bite them, and show marks of teeth
Upon their arms!

ONE OF THE MEN.
That makes the wonder greater.
That's Witchcraft. Why, if they had teeth like yours,
'T would be no wonder if the girls were bitten!

GLOYD.
And then those ghosts that come out of their graves
And cry, "You murdered us! you murdered us! "

ONE OF THE MEN.
And all those Apparitions that stick pins
Into the flesh of the Afflicted Children!

GLOYD.
Oh those Afflicted Children! They know well
Where the pins come from. I can tell you that.
And there's old Corey, he has got a horseshoe
Nailed on his doorstep to keep off the Witches,
And all the same his wife has gone to prison.

ONE OF THE MEN.
Oh, she's no Witch. I'll swear that Goodwife Corey
Never did harm to any living creature.
She's a good woman, if there ever was one.

GLOYD.
Well, we shall see. As for that Bridget Bishop,
She has been tried before; some years ago
A negro testified he saw her shape
Sitting upon the rafters in a barn,
And holding in its hand an egg; and while
He went to fetch his pitchfork, she had vanished.
And now be quiet, will you? I am tired,
And want to sleep here on the grass a little.

They stretch themselves on the grass.

ONE OF THE MEN.
There may be Witches riding through the air
Over our heads on broomsticks at this moment,
Bound for some Satan's Sabbath in the woods
To be baptized.

GLOYD.
I wish they'd take you with them,
And hold you under water, head and ears,
Till you were drowned; and that would stop your talking,
If nothing else will. Let me sleep, I say.


ACT IV

SCENE I. -- The Green in front of the village Meeting-house. An
excited crowd gathering. Enter JOHN GLOYD.

A FARMER.
Who will be tried to-day?

A SECOND.
I do not know.
Here is John Gloyd. Ask him; he knows.

FARMER.
John Gloyd,
Whose turn is it to-day?

GLOYD.
It's Goodwife Corey's.

FARMER.
Giles Corey's wife?

GLOYD.
The same. She is not mine.
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 trumpet blows.

FARMER.
Here come the Magistrates.

SECOND FARMER.
Who's the tall man in front?

GLOYD.
Oh, that is Hathorne,
A Justice of the Court, and a Quarter-master
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.

Enter HATHORNE and other Magistrates on horseback, followed by
the Sheriff, constables, and attendants on foot. The Magistrates
dismount, and enter the Meeting-house, with the rest.

FARMER.

The Meeting-house is full. I never saw
So great a crowd before.

GLOYD.
No matter. Come.
We shall find room enough by elbowing
Our way among them. Put your shoulder to it.

FARMER.
There were not half so many at the trial
Of Goodwife Bishop.

GLOYD.
Keep close after me.
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.


SCENE II. -- Interior of the Meeting-house. MATHER and the
Magistrates seated in front of the pulpit. Before them a raised
platform. MARTHA in chains. COREY near her. MARY WALCOT in a
chair. A crowd of spectators, among them GLOYD. Confusion and
murmurs during the scene.

HATHORNE.
Call Martha Corey.

MARTHA.
I am here.

HATHORNE.
Come forward.

She ascends the platform.

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?

MARTHA.
Before I answer, give me leave to pray.

HATHORNE.
We have not sent for you, nor are we here,
To hear you pray, but to examine you
In whatsoever is alleged against you.
Why do you hurt this person?

MARTHA.
I do not.
I am not guilty of the charge against me.

MARY.
Avoid, she-devil! You may torment me now!
Avoid, avoid, Witch!

MARTHA.
I am innocent.
I never had to do with any Witchcraft
Since I was born. I am a gospel woman.

MARY.
You are a gospel Witch!

MARTHA (clasping her hands).
Ah me! ah me!
Oh, give me leave to pray!

MARY (stretching out her hands).
She hurts me now.
See, she has pinched my hands!

HATHORNE.
Who made these marks
Upon her hands?

MARTHA.
I do not know. I stand
Apart from her. I did not touch her hands.

HATHORNE.
Who hurt her then?

MARTHA.
I know not.

HATHORNE.
Do you think
She is bewitched?

MARTHA.
Indeed I do not think so.
I am no Witch, and have no faith in Witches.

HATHORNE.
Then answer me: When certain persons came
To see you yesterday, how did you know
Beforehand why they came?

MARTHA.
I had had speech;
The children said I hurt them, and I thought
These people came to question me about it.

HATHORNE.
How did you know the children had been told
To note the clothes you wore?

MARTHA.
My husband told me
What others said about it.

HATHORNE.
Goodman Corey,
Say, did you tell her?

COREY.
I must speak the truth;
I did not tell her. It was some one else.

HATHORNE.
Did you not say your husband told you so?
How dare you tell a lie in this assembly?
Who told you of the clothes? Confess the truth.

MARTHA bites her lips, and is silent.

You bite your lips, but do not answer me!

MARY.
Ah, she is biting me! Avoid, avoid!

HATHORNE.
You said your husband told you.

MARTHA.
Yes, he told me
The children said I troubled them.

HATHORNE.
Then tell me,
Why do you trouble them?

MARTHA.
I have denied it.

MARY.
She threatened me; stabbed at me with her spindle;
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.

Shows them.

HATHORNE.
And there are persons here who know the truth
Of what has now been said. What answer make you?

MARTHA.
I make no answer. Give me leave to pray.

HATHORNE.
Whom would you pray to?

MARTHA.
To my God and Father.

HATHORNE.
Who is your God and Father?

MARTHA.
The Almighty!

HATHORNE.
Doth he you pray to say that he is God?
It is the Prince of Darkness, and not God.

MARY.
There is a dark shape whispering in her ear.

HATHORNE.
What does it say to you?

MARTHA.
I see no shape.

HATHORNE.
Did you not hear it whisper?

MARTHA.
I heard nothing.

MARY.
What torture! Ah, what agony I suffer!

Falls into a swoon.

HATHORNE.
You see this woman cannot stand before you.
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?

MARTHA.
I do not know. He who appeared of old
In Samuel's shape, a saint and glorified,
May come in whatsoever shape he chooses.
I cannot help it. I am sick at heart!

COREY.
O Martha, Martha! let me hold your hand.

HATHORNE.
No; stand aside, old man.

MARY (starting up).
Look there! Look there!
I see a little bird, a yellow bird
Perched on her finger; and it pecks at me.
Ah, it will tear mine eyes out!

MARTHA.
I see nothing.

HATHORNE.
'T is the Familiar Spirit that attends her.

MARY.
Now it has flown away. It sits up there
Upon the rafters. It is gone; is vanished.

MARTHA.
Giles, wipe these tears of anger from mine eyes.
Wipe the sweat from my forehead. I am faint.

She leans against the railing.

MARY.
Oh, she is crushing me with all her weight!

HATHORNE.
Did you not carry once the Devil's Book
To this young woman?

MARTHA.
Never.

HATHORNE.
Have you signed it,
Or touched it?

MARTHA.
No; I never saw it.

HATHORNE.
Did you not scourge her with an iron rod?

MARTHA.
No, I did not. If any Evil Spirit
Has taken my shape to do these evil deeds,
I cannot help it. I am innocent.

HATHORNE.
Did you not say the Magistrates were blind?
That you would open their eyes?

MARTHA (with a scornful laugh).
Yes, I said that;
If you call me a sorceress, you are blind!
If you accuse the innocent, you are blind!
Can the innocent be guilty?

HATHORNE.
Did you not
On one occasion hide your husband's saddle
To hinder him from coming to the sessions?

MARTHA.
I thought it was a folly in a farmer
To waste his time pursuing such illusions.

HATHORNE.
What was the bird that this young woman saw
Just now upon your hand?

MARTHA.
I know no bird.

HATHORNE.
Have you not dealt with a Familiar Spirit?

MARTHA.
No, never, never!

HATHORNE.
What then was the Book
You showed to this young woman, and besought her
To write in it?

MARTHA.