Produced by Jeff Kaylin and Andrew Sly Giles Corey, Yeoman A Play By Mary E. Wilkins Illustrated New York Harper & Brothers Publishers 1893 Cast of Characters. Giles Corey. Paul Bayley, _Olive Corey's lover._ Samuel Parris, _minister in Salem Village._ John Hathorne, _magistrate._ Jonathan Corwin, _magistrate._ Olive Corey, _Giles Corey's daughter._ Martha Corey, _Giles Corey's wife._ Ann Hutchins, _Olive's friend and one of the Afflicted Girls._ Widow Eunice Hutchins, _Ann's mother._ Phoebe Morse, _little orphan girl, niece to Martha Corey._ Mercy Lewis, _one of the Afflicted Girls._ Nancy Fox, _an old serving-woman in Giles Corey's house._ _Afflicted Girls, Constables, Marshal, People of Salem Village, Messengers, etc._ Act I. Scene I.--_Salem Village. Living-room in_ Giles Corey's _house._ Olive Corey _is spinning._ Nancy Fox, _the old servant, sits in the fireplace paring apples. Little_ Phoebe Morse, _on a stool beside her, is knitting a stocking._ _Phoebe_ (_starting_). What is that? Oh, Olive, what is that? _Nancy._ Yes, what is that? Massy, what a clatter! _Olive_ (_spinning_). I heard naught. Be not so foolish, child. And you, Nancy, be of a surety old enough to know better. _Nancy._ I trow there was a clatter in the chimbly. There 'tis again! Massy, what a screech! _Phoebe_ (_running to_ Olive _and clinging to her_). Oh, Olive, what is it? what is it? Don't let it catch me. Oh, Olive! _Olive._ I tell you 'twas naught. _Nancy._ Them that won't hear be deafer than them that's born so. Massy, what a screech! _Phoebe._ Oh, Olive, Olive! Don't let 'em catch me! _Olive._ Nobody wants to catch you. Be quiet now, and I'll sing to you. Then you won't think you hear screeches. _Nancy._ We won't, hey? _Olive._ Be quiet! This folly hath gone too far. [_Sings spinning song._ SPINNING SONG. "I'll tell you a story; a story of one, 'Twas of a great prince whose name was King John. A great prince was he, and a man of great might In putting down wrong and in setting up right. To my down, down, down, derry down." _Nancy._ Massy, what screeches! [_Screams violently._ _Phoebe._ Oh, Nancy, 'twas you screeched then. _Nancy._ It wasn't me; 'twas a witch in the chimbly. (_Screams again._) There, hear that, will ye? I tell ye 'twa'n't me. I 'ain't opened my mouth. _Olive._ Nancy, I will bear no more of this. If you be not quiet, I will tell my mother when she comes home. Now, Phoebe, sing the rest of the song with me, and think no more of such folly. [_Sings with_ Phoebe. "This king, being a mind to make himself merry, He sent for the Bishop of Canterbury. 'Good-morning, Mr. Bishop,' the king did say. 'Have you come here for to live or to die?' To my down, down, down, derry down.