These
spectres
are to us as if they were not.
Longfellow
Look! look! there is another clad in gray!
She holds a spindle in her hand, and threatens
To stab me with it! It is Goodwife Corey!
Keep her away! Now she is coming at me!
Oh, mercy! mercy!
WALCOT (thrusting with his sword.
There is nothing there!
MATHER to HATHORNE.
Do you see anything?
HATHORNE.
The laws that govern
The spiritual world prevent our seeing
Things palpable and visible to her.
These spectres are to us as if they were not.
Mark her; she wakes.
TITUBA touches her, and she awakes.
MARY.
Who are these gentlemen?
WALCOT.
They are our friends. Dear Mary, are you better?
MARY.
Weak, very weak.
Taking a spindle from her lap, and holding it up.
How came this spindle here?
TITUBA.
You wrenched it from the hand of Goodwife Corey
When she rushed at you.
HATHORNE.
Mark that, reverend sir!
