If an old man will marry a young wife, Why then—why then—why then—he must spell Baker!
Enter MARTHA with the saddle, which she throws down.
MARTHA. There! There's the saddle.
COREY.
Take it up.
MARTHA. I won't!
COREY. Then let it lie there. I'll ride to the village, And say you are a Witch.
MARTHA.
No, not that, Giles.
She takes up the saddle.
COREY.
Now come with me, and saddle the gray mare
With your own hands; and you shall see me ride
Along the village road as is becoming
Giles Corey of the Salem Farms, your husband!
[Exeunt.
SCENE II. — The Green in front of the Meeting-house in Salem village. People coming and going. Enter GILES COREY.