Re-enter TITUBA.

What shape is this?  What monstrous apparition,
Exceeding fierce, that none may pass that way? 
Tell me, good woman, if you are a woman—­

TITUBA. 
I am a woman, but I am not good,
I am a Witch!

MATHER. 
      Then tell me, Witch and woman,
For you must know the pathways through this wood,
Where lieth Salem Village?

TITUBA. 
                         Reverend sir,
The village is near by.  I’m going there
With these few herbs.  I’ll lead you.  Follow me.

MATHER. 
First say, who are you?  I am loath to follow
A stranger in this wilderness, for fear
Of being misled, and left in some morass. 
Who are you?

TITUBA. 
             I am Tituba the Witch,
Wife of John Indian.

MATHER. 
                    You are Tituba? 
I know you then.  You have renounced the Devil,
And have become a penitent confessor,
The Lord be praised!  Go on, I’ll follow you. 
Wait only till I fetch my horse, that stands
Tethered among the trees, not far from here.

TITUBA. 
Let me get up behind you, reverend sir.

MATHER. 
The Lord forbid!  What would the people think,
If they should see the Reverend Cotton Mather
Ride into Salem with a Witch behind him? 
The Lord forbid!

TITUBA. 
                 I do not need a horse! 
I can ride through the air upon a stick,
Above the tree-tops and above the houses,
And no one see me, no one overtake me.
                          [Exeunt.

SCENE II. —­ A room at JUSTICE HATHORNE’S.  A clock in the corner.  Enter HATHORNE and MATHER.

HATHORNE. 
You are welcome, reverend sir, thrice welcome here
Beneath my humble roof.

MATHER. 
              I thank your Worship.

HATHORNE. 
Pray you be seated.  You must be fatigued
With your long ride through unfrequented woods.

They sit down.

MATHER. 
You know the purport of my visit here,—­
To be advised by you, and counsel with you,
And with the Reverend Clergy of the village,
Touching these witchcrafts that so much afflict you;
And see with mine own eyes the wonders told
Of spectres and the shadows of the dead,
That come back from their graves to speak with men.

HATHORNE. 
Some men there are, I have known such, who think
That the two worlds—­the seen and the unseen,
The world of matter and the world of spirit—­
Are like the hemispheres upon our maps,
And touch each other only at a point. 
But these two worlds are not divided thus,
Save for the purposes of common speech,
They form one globe, in which the parted seas
All flow together and are intermingled,
While the great continents remain distinct.

MATHER. 
I doubt it not.  The spiritual world
Lies all about us, and its avenues
Are open to the unseen feet of phantoms
That come and go, and we perceive them not,
Save by their influence, or when at times
A most mysterious Providence permits them
To manifest themselves to mortal eyes.