There were two pyous Matron Dames And goodly Maidens Three, That cryed upon this heynous Witch As you shall quicklie see. Goodwyfe Bibber, she was one, And Goodwyfe Goodall two, These were ye sore afflicted ones By Fyts and Pynchings too: And those Three Damsels fair She worried them full sore, As all could see upon their Arms The divers Marks they bore. And when before the Magistrates For Tryall she did stand, This Wicked Witch did lye to them While holding up her Hand; "I pray you all Good Gentlemen Come listen unto me, I never harmed those two Goodwyfes Nor yet these Children Three:" "I call upon my Saviour Lord" (Blasphemously she sayed) "As Witness of my Innocence In this my hour of Need." The Godly Ministers were shockt This Witch-prayer for to hear, And some did see ye Black Man[180] there A whispering in her Eare. The Magistrates did saye to her Most surely thou doth lye, Confess thou here thy hellish Deeds Or ill Death thou must dye. She rent her Cloaths, she tore her Haire, And lowdly she did crye, "May Christe forgive mine Enimies When I am called to dye." This Goodwyfe had a Goodman too, Giles Corey was his Name, In Salem Gaol they shut him in With his blasphemous Dame. Giles Corey was a Wizzard strong, A stubborn Wretch was he, And fitt was he to hang on high Upon ye Locust Tree: So when before ye Magistrates For tryall he did come, He would no true Confession make But was compleatlie dumbe. "Giles Corey," said ye Magistrates "What hast thou heare to pleade To these who now accuse thy soule Of Crymes and horrid Deed?" Giles Corey--he sayde not a Word, No single Word spake he: "Giles Corey," sayth ye Magistrate, "We'll press it out of thee." They got them then a _heavy Beam_, They layde it on his Breast, They loaded it with heavy Stones, And hard upon him prest. "More weight," now sayd this wretched Man, "More weight," again he cryed, And he did no Confession make But wickedlie he Dyed. Dame Corey lived but six Dayes more, But six Day's more lived she, For She was hung at Gallows Hill Upon ye Locust Tree. Rejoyce all true New-England Men, Let Grace still more abounde, Go search ye Land with myght and maine Till all these Imps be founde: And that will be a glorious Daye, A goodlie Sight to see, When you shall hang these Brands of Fyre Upon ye Gallows Tree. NUMBER III. _Testimony of William Beale, of Marblehead, against Mr. Philip English of Salem, Given August_ 2_d_, 1692. Taken from the Original.