Oh, dear children, oh, maids, who have been playmates and friends with my dear child, ye will not do her this harm! Do ye not know that she hath never harmed ye, and would die first? Think of the time when this sickness, that is nigh to madness, shall have passed 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! _Mercy._ Last time I was somewhat blinded and could not see her face. Methinks she was something taller than Olive. _Ann_ (_shrieks_). Oh, Olive is upon me! The sun shines on her face! I see her, she is choking me! Oh! oh! _Mercy_ (_to_ Ann). Hush! If she be put away you'll not get Paul Bayley; I'll tell you that for a certainty, Ann Hutchins. _Ann._ Oh! oh! she is killing me! _Mercy._ I see her naught; 'tis a taller person who is afflicting Ann. (_To_ Ann.) Leave your outcries or I will confess to the magistrates. [Ann _becomes quiet._ _Corwin._ Ann Hutchins, saw you in truth Olive Corey afflicting you? _Ann_ (_sullenly_). It might have been Goody Corey. _Corwin._ Mercy Lewis, saw you of a certainty Olive Corey walking in the wood with a black man? _Mercy._ It was the wane of the moon; I might have been mistaken. It might have been Goody Corey; their carriage is somewhat the same. _Corwin._ Give me the cape, Widow Hutchins. (Widow Hutchins _hands him the cape; he puts it over his shoulders._) Verily I perceive no great inconvenience from the cape, except it is an ill fit.