Giles Corey, Yeoman

A Play

By
Mary E. Wilkins

Illustrated

New York
Harper & Brothers Publishers
1893

Cast of Characters.

  Giles Corey. 
  Paul Bayley, Olive Corey’s lover.
  Samuel Parris, minister in Salem Village.
  John Hathorne, magistrate.
  Jonathan Corwin, magistrate.
  Olive Corey, Giles Corey’s daughter.
  Martha Corey, Giles Corey’s wife.
  Ann Hutchins, Olive’s friend and one of the Afflicted Girls.
  Widow Eunice Hutchins, Ann’s mother.
  Phoebe Morse, little orphan girl, niece to Martha Corey.
  Mercy Lewis, one of the Afflicted Girls.
  Nancy Fox, an old serving-woman in Giles Corey’s house.
  Afflicted Girls, Constables, Marshal, People of Salem Village,
  Messengers, etc.

Act I.

Scene I.—­Salem Village.  Living-room in Giles Corey’s house. Olive Corey is spinning. Nancy Fox, the old servant, sits in the fireplace paring apples.  Little Phoebe Morse, on a stool beside her, is knitting a stocking.

Phoebe (starting).  What is that?  Oh, Olive, what is that?

Nancy. Yes, what is that?  Massy, what a clatter!

Olive (spinning).  I heard naught.  Be not so foolish, child.  And you, Nancy, be of a surety old enough to know better.

Nancy. I trow there was a clatter in the chimbly.  There ’tis again!  Massy, what a screech!

Phoebe (running to Olive and clinging to her).  Oh, Olive, what is it? what is it?  Don’t let it catch me.  Oh, Olive!

Olive. I tell you ’twas naught.

Nancy. Them that won’t hear be deafer than them that’s born so.  Massy, what a screech!

Phoebe. Oh, Olive, Olive!  Don’t let ’em catch me!

Olive. Nobody wants to catch you.  Be quiet now, and I’ll sing to you.  Then you won’t think you hear screeches.

Nancy. We won’t, hey?

Olive. Be quiet!  This folly hath gone too far. [Sings spinning song.

SPINNING SONG.

  “I’ll tell you a story; a story of one,
  ’Twas of a great prince whose name was King John. 
  A great prince was he, and a man of great might
  In putting down wrong and in setting up right. 
  To my down, down, down, derry down.”

Nancy. Massy, what screeches! [Screams violently.

Phoebe. Oh, Nancy, ’twas you screeched then.

Nancy. It wasn’t me; ’twas a witch in the chimbly. (Screams again.) There, hear that, will ye?  I tell ye ’twa’n’t me.  I ’ain’t opened my mouth.

Olive. Nancy, I will bear no more of this.  If you be not quiet, I will tell my mother when she comes home.  Now, Phoebe, sing the rest of the song with me, and think no more of such folly. [Sings with Phoebe.