AC dBooks

HATHORNE.
You now have entered
The realm of ghosts and phantoms,--the vast realm
Of the unknown and the invisible,
Through whose wide-open gates there blows a wind
From the dark valley of the shadow of Death,
That freezes us with horror.
MARY (starting).
Take her hence!
Take her away from me. I see her there!
She's coming to torment me!
WALCOT (taking her hand.
O my sister!
What frightens you? She neither hears nor sees me.
She's in a trance.
MARY.
Do you not see her there?
TITUBA.
My child, who is it?
MARY.
Ah, I do not know,
I cannot see her face.
TITUBA.
How is she clad?
MARY.
She wears a crimson bodice. In her hand
She holds an image, and is pinching it
Between her fingers. Ah, she tortures me!
I see her face now. It is Goodwife Bishop!
Why does she torture me? I never harmed her!
And now she strikes me with an iron rod!
Oh, I am beaten!
MATHER.
This is wonderful!.
I can see nothing! Is this apparition
Visibly there, and yet we cannot see it?
HATHORNE.
It is. The spectre is invisible
Unto our grosser senses, but she sees it.
MARY.


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