_Giles._ Goods. The goods be the least of it! Old Giles Corey be not a deep man. I trow he hath had a somewhat hard skull, but when a man draws in sight of death he hath a better grasp at his wits than he hath dreamed of. This be verily a mightier work than ye think. It shall be not only old Giles Corey that lies pressed to death under the stones, but the backbone of this great evil in the land shall be broke by the same weight. I tell ye it will be so. I have clearer understanding, now I be so near the end on't. They will dare no more after me. To-day shall I stand mute at my trial, but my dumbness shall drown out the clamor of my accusers. Old Giles Corey will have the best on't. 'Tis for this, and not for the goods, I will stand mute; for this, and to make amends to Martha. _Paul._ Giles Corey, you shall not die this dreadful death. If death it must be, and it may yet not be, choose the easier one. _Giles._ Think ye I cannot do it? (_Rises._) Master Paul Bayley, you see before you Giles Corey. He be verily an old man, he be over eighty years old, but there be somewhat of the first of him left. He hath never had much power of speech; his words have been rough, and not given to pleasing. He hath been a rude man, an unlettered man, and a sinner. He hath brawled and blasphemed with the worst of them in his day. He hath given blow for blow, and I trow the other man's cheek smarted sorer than old Giles's. Now he be a man of the covenant, but he be still stiff with his old ways, and hath no nimbleness to shunt a blow. Old Giles Corey hath no fine wisdom to save his life, and no grace of tongue, but he hath power to die as he will, and no man hath greater. _Paul._ Goodman Corey, I-- [Guard _opens the door._ _Guard._ Here is your daughter to see you, Goodman Corey. _Giles._ Tell her I will see her not. What brought her here? I know. Minister Parris hath sent her, thinking to tempt me from my plan. I will see her not. _Olive_ (_from without_). Father, you cannot send me away. _Giles._ Why come you here? Go home and mind the house. _Olive._ Father, I pray you not to send me away. _Paul._ If you be hard with her, you will kill her. _Giles._ Come in. _Enter_ Olive. _Olive._ What is this you will do, father? _Giles._ My duty, lass. _Olive._ Father, you will not die this dreadful death? _Giles._ That will I, lass. _Olive._ Then I say to you, father, so will I also. The stones will press you down a few hours' space, and they will press me down so long as I may live. You will be soon dead and out of the pains, but you will leave your death with the living. _Giles._ Then must the living bear it. _Olive._ Father, you may yet be acquitted. Plead at your trial. _Giles._ Work the bellows in the face of the north wind. Oh, lass, why came you here? 'Tis worse than the stones. Talk no more to me, good lass; womenkind should meddle not with men's plans. But promise me you will wed with Paul here within three weeks.