It was some one else.
HATHORNE.
Did you not say your husband told you so?
How dare you tell a lie in this assembly?
Who told you of the clothes?
Confess the truth.
MARTHA bites her lips, and is silent.
You bite your lips, but do not answer me! MARY.
Ah, she is biting me! Avoid, avoid! HATHORNE.
You said your husband told you.
MARTHA.
Yes, he told me The children said I troubled them.
HATHORNE.
Then tell me, Why do you trouble them?
MARTHA.
I have denied it.
MARY.
She threatened me; stabbed at me with her spindle; And, when my brother thrust her with his sword, He tore her gown, and cut a piece away.
Here are they both, the spindle and the cloth.
Shows them.
HATHORNE.
And there are persons here who know the truth Of what has now been said.

What answer make you?
MARTHA.
I make no answer.

Give me leave to pray.
HATHORNE.
Whom would you pray to?
MARTHA.
To my God and Father.
HATHORNE.
Who is your God and Father?
MARTHA.
The Almighty! HATHORNE.
Doth he you pray to say that he is God?
It is the Prince of Darkness, and not God.
MARY.
There is a dark shape whispering in her ear.
HATHORNE.
What does it say to you?
MARTHA.
I see no shape.
HATHORNE.
Did you not hear it whisper?
MARTHA.
I heard nothing.
MARY.
What torture! Ah, what agony I suffer! Falls into a swoon.
HATHORNE.
You see this woman cannot stand before you.
If you would look for mercy, you must look In God's way, by confession of your guilt.
Why does your spectre haunt and hurt this person?
MARTHA.
I do not know.

He who appeared of old In Samuel's shape, a saint and glorified, May come in whatsoever shape he chooses.
I cannot help it.

I am sick at heart! COREY.
O Martha, Martha! let me hold your hand.
HATHORNE.
No; stand aside, old man.
MARY (starting up).
Look there! Look there! I see a little bird, a yellow bird Perched on her finger; and it pecks at me.
Ah, it will tear mine eyes out! MARTHA.
I see nothing.
HATHORNE.
'T is the Familiar Spirit that attends her.
MARY.
Now it has flown away.