Morning.

COREY and MARTHA sitting at the breakfast-table.
COREY (rising).
Well, now I've told you all I saw and heard Of Bridget Bishop; and I must be gone.
MARTHA.
Don't go into the village, Giles, to-day.
Last night you came back tired and out of humor.
COREY.
Say, angry; say, right angry.

I was never In a more devilish temper in my life.
All things went wrong with me.
MARTHA.
You were much vexed; So don't go to the village.
COREY (going).
No, I won't.
I won't go near it.

We are going to mow The Ipswich meadows for the aftermath, The crop of sedge and rowens.
MARTHA.
Stay a moment, I want to tell you what I dreamed last night.
Do you believe in dreams?
COREY.
Why, yes and no.
When they come true, then I believe in them When they come false, I don't believe in them.
But let me hear.

What did you dream about?
MARTHA.
I dreamed that you and I were both in prison; That we had fetters on our hands and feet; That we were taken before the Magistrates, And tried for Witchcraft, and condemned to death! I wished to pray; they would not let me pray; You tried to comfort me, and they forbade it.
But the most dreadful thing in all my dream Was that they made you testify against me! And then there came a kind of mist between us; I could not see you; and I woke in terror.
I never was more thankful in my life Than when I found you sleeping at my side! COREY (with tenderness).
It was our talk last night that made you dream.
I'm sorry for it.