_Hathorne_ (_rising_). We are now prepared to enter upon the examination. We invoke the blessing of God upon our proceedings, and call upon the Marshal to produce the bodies of the accused. [_Exeunt_ Marshal _and_ Constables. Afflicted Girls _twist about and groan. Great excitement among the people._ _Enter_ Marshal _and_ Constables _leading_ Martha _and_ Olive Corey _in chains._ Giles _follows. The prisoners are placed facing the assembly, with the_ Constables _holding their hands._ Giles _stands near. The_ Afflicted Girls _make a great clamor._ _Ann._ Oh, they are tormenting! They will be the death of me! I will not! I will not! _Giles._ Hush your noise, will ye, Ann Hutchins! _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 bird perched on her head! _Hathorne._ What say you to that, Goodwife Corey? _Martha._ What can I say to such folly? _Hathorne._ Constables, let go the hands of Martha Corey. [_The_ Constables _let go her hands, and immediately there is a great outcry from the_ Afflicted Girls. _Afflicted Girls._ She pinches us! Hold her hands! Hold her hands again! Oh! oh! _Ann._ She is upon me again! She digs her fingers into my throat! Hold her hands! Hold her hands! She will be the death of me! _Giles._ Devil take ye, ye lying trollop! 'Tis a pity somebody had not been the death of ye before this happened! _Hathorne._ Constables, hold the hands of the accused. [Constables _obey, and at once the afflicted are quiet._ _Hathorne._ Goodwife Corey, what do you say to this? _Martha._ I see with whom we have to do. May the Lord have mercy upon us!