Giles Corey, Yeoman Part 14

_Giles._ My duty, la.s.s.

_Olive._ Father, you will not die this dreadful death?

_Giles._ That will I, la.s.s.

_Olive._ Then I say to you, father, so will I also. The stones will press you down a few hours' s.p.a.ce, and they will press me down so long as I may live. You will be soon dead and out of the pains, but you will leave your death with the living.

_Giles._ Then must the living bear it.

_Olive._ Father, you may yet be acquitted. Plead at your trial.

_Giles._ Work the bellows in the face of the north wind. Oh, la.s.s, why came you here? 'Tis worse than the stones. Talk no more to me, good la.s.s; womenkind should meddle not with men's plans. But promise me you will wed with Paul here within three weeks.

_Olive._ I will never wed.

_Giles._ Ye will not, hey? Ye will wed with Master Paul Bayley within three weeks. 'Tis the last command your father gives thee.

_Olive._ Think you I can wed when you--

_Giles._ Ay, I do think so, la.s.s, and so ye will.

_Olive._ Father, I will not. But if you plead I will, I promise you I will.

_Giles._ I will not, and you will. La.s.s, since you be here, I pray you set a st.i.tch in this seam in my coat. I would look tidy at the trial, for thy mother's sake. Hast thou thy huswife with thee?

_Olive._ Yes, father.

[Olive _threads a needle, and standing beside her father, sets the st.i.tch; weeps as she does so._

_Giles._ Know you every tear adds weight to the stones, la.s.s?

_Olive._ Then will I weep not. [_Mends._

_Giles._ Be the child and the old woman well?

_Olive._ Yes, father.

_Giles._ Look out for them as you best can. And see to 't the little maid's linen chest is well filled, as your mother would have.

[Olive _breaks off the thread._

_Giles._ Be the st.i.tch set strong?

_Olive._ Yes, father.

_Giles_ (_turning and folding her to his arms_). Oh, my good la.s.s, the stones be naught, but this cometh hard, this cometh hard! Could they not have spared me this?

_Olive._ Father, listen to me, listen to me--

_Giles._ La.s.s, I must listen to naught but the voice of G.o.d. 'Tis that speaks, and bids me do this thing. Thou must come not betwixt thy father and his G.o.d.

_Olive._ Father! father!

_Giles._ Go, Olive, I can bear no more. Tell me thou wilt wed as I command you.

_Olive._ As thou wilt, father! father! but I will love no man as I love thee.

_Giles._ Go, la.s.s. Give me a kiss. There, now go! I command thee to go! Paul, take her hence. I charge ye do by her when her father be dead and gone, as ye would were he at thy elbow. Take her hence. I would go to prayer.

[_Exeunt_ Paul _and_ Olive.

_Olive_ (_as the door closes_). Father! father!

Giles Corey _stands alone in cell. Curtain falls._

Act VI.

_Three weeks later. Lane near Salem overhung by blossoming apple-trees. Enter_ Hathorne, Corwin, _and_ Parris.

_Corwin._ 'Tis better here, a little removed from the field where they are putting Giles Corey to death. I could bear the sight of it no longer.

_Hathorne._ You are fainthearted, good Master Corwin.

_Corwin._ Fainthearted or not, 'tis too much for me. I was brought not up in the shambles, nor bred butcher by trade.

_Parris._ Your wors.h.i.+p, you should strive in prayer, lest you falter not in the strife against Satan.

_Corwin._ I know not that I have faltered in any strife against Satan.

_Parris._ Perchance 'tis but your wors.h.i.+p's delicate frame of body causeth you to shrink from this stern duty.

_Hathorne._ This torment of Giles Corey's can last but a little s.p.a.ce now. He hath still his chance to speak and avert his death, and he will do it erelong. They have increased the weights mightily.

Fear not, good Master Corwin, Giles Corey will not die; erelong his old tongue will wag like a millwheel.

_Corwin._ I doubt much, good Master Hathorne, if Giles Corey speak.

And if he does not speak, and so be put to death, as is decreed, I doubt much if the temper of the people will stand more. There are those who have sympathy with Giles Corey. I heard many murmurs in the streets of Salem this morning.

_Hathorne._ Let them murmur.

_Parris._ Ay, let them murmur, so long as we wield the sword of the Lord and of Gideon.

_Enter first_ Messenger.

_Hathorne._ Here comes a man from the field. How goes it now with Giles Corey?