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.  It sits up there
Upon the rafters.  It is gone; is vanished.

MARTHA. 
Giles, wipe these tears of anger from mine eyes. 
Wipe the sweat from my forehead.  I am faint.

She leans against the railing.

MARY. 
Oh, she is crushing me with all her weight!

HATHORNE. 
Did you not carry once the Devil’s Book
To this young woman?

MARTHA. 
               Never.

HATHORNE. 
                 Have you signed it,
Or touched it?

MARTHA. 
              No; I never saw it.

HATHORNE. 
Did you not scourge her with an iron rod?

MARTHA. 
No, I did not.  If any Evil Spirit
Has taken my shape to do these evil deeds,
I cannot help it.  I am innocent.

HATHORNE. 
Did you not say the Magistrates were blind? 
That you would open their eyes?

MARTHA (with a scornful laugh). 
                      Yes, I said that;
If you call me a sorceress, you are blind! 
If you accuse the innocent, you are blind! 
Can the innocent be guilty?

HATHORNE. 
                           Did you not
On one occasion hide your husband’s saddle
To hinder him from coming to the sessions?

MARTHA. 
I thought it was a folly in a farmer
To waste his time pursuing such illusions.

HATHORNE. 
What was the bird that this young woman saw
Just now upon your hand?