GLOYD.
They have been overlooked.
COREY.
The Evil Eye is on them sure enough.
Call all the men. Be quick. Go after them!
Exit GLOYD and enter MARTHA.
MARTHA.
What is amiss?
COREY.
The cattle are bewitched.
They are broken loose and making for the woods.
MARTHA.
Why will you harbor such delusions, Giles?
Bewitched? Well, then it was John Gloyd bewitched them;
I saw him even now take down the bars
And turn them loose! They're only frolicsome.
COREY.
The rascal!
MARTHA.
I was standing in the road,
Talking with Goodwife Proctor, and I saw him.
COREY.
With Proctor's wife? And what says Goodwife Proctor?
MARTHA.
Sad things indeed; the saddest you can hear
Of Bridget Bishop. She's cried out upon!
COREY.
Poor soul! I've known her forty year or more.
She was the widow Wasselby, and then
She married Oliver, and Bishop next.
She's had three husbands. I remember well
My games of shovel-board at Bishop's tavern
In the old merry days, and she so gay
With her red paragon bodice and her ribbons!
Ah, Bridget Bishop always was a Witch!
MARTHA.
They'll little help her now,--her caps and ribbons,
And her red paragon bodice and her plumes,
With which she flaunted in the Meeting-house!
When next she goes there, it will be for trial.
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