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- Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
In "Giles Corey, Yeoman," Mary Eleanor Wilkins Freeman intricately weaves a tale that revolves around the historical figure Giles Corey, infamous for his tragic fate during the Salem witch trials. Through a lens of rich local color and psychological depth, Freeman explores the themes of superstition, societal conflict, and moral ambiguity, all marked by her distinctive lyrical prose and keen observations of rural New England life. Set against the backdrop of 17th-century Puritan society, Freeman'Äôs narrative captures the tensions between individual convictions and communal pressures, inviting readers to reflect on the complexities of justice and human nature. Mary Eleanor Wilkins Freeman, a prominent American author of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, was deeply influenced by her New England roots and the folklore surrounding her native region. Her experiences as a woman in a male-dominated literary world informed her exploration of gender, class, and the human condition. Freeman'Äôs interest in historical narratives and the intricate human emotions within them is palpable in this work, as she endeavors to shed light on marginalized voices of the past, particularly women's experiences during turbulent times. This compelling novel is a must-read for those intrigued by historical fiction that resonates with contemporary themes. Freeman'Äôs articulated insights into the moral dilemmas and societal challenges echo through the ages, making "Giles Corey, Yeoman" a powerful exploration of the timeless struggle between individuality and collective morality. Readers will find themselves immersed in the moral quandaries faced by the characters, prompting reflection on broader societal issues, ensuring its relevance to modern audiences.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
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Giles Corey, Yeoman
Table of Contents
By Mary E. Wilkins
Illustrated
New York Harper & Brothers Publishers 1893
Cast of Characters.
Giles Corey. Paul Bayley, Olive Corey's lover. Samuel Parris, minister in Salem Village. John Hathorne, magistrate. Jonathan Corwin, magistrate. Olive Corey, Giles Corey's daughter. Martha Corey, Giles Corey's wife. Ann Hutchins, Olive's friend and one of the Afflicted Girls. Widow Eunice Hutchins, Ann's mother. Phœbe Morse, little orphan girl, niece to Martha Corey. Mercy Lewis, one of the Afflicted Girls. Nancy Fox, an old serving-woman in Giles Corey's house.Afflicted Girls, Constables, Marshal, People of Salem Village, Messengers, etc.
Act I.
Scene I.—Salem Village. Living-room in Giles Corey's house. Olive Corey is spinning. Nancy Fox, the old servant, sits in the fireplace paring apples. Little Phœbe Morse, on a stool beside her, is knitting a stocking.
Phœbe (starting). What is that? Oh, Olive, what is that?
Nancy. Yes, what is that? Massy, what a clatter!
Olive (spinning). I heard naught. Be not so foolish, child. And you, Nancy, be of a surety old enough to know better.
Nancy. I trow there was a clatter in the chimbly. There 'tis again! Massy, what a screech!
Phœbe (running to Olive and clinging to her). Oh, Olive, what is it? what is it? Don't let it catch me. Oh, Olive!
Olive. I tell you 'twas naught.
Nancy. Them that won't hear be deafer than them that's born so. Massy, what a screech!
Phœbe. Oh, Olive, Olive! Don't let 'em catch me!
Olive. Nobody wants to catch you. Be quiet now, and I'll sing to you. Then you won't think you hear screeches.
Nancy. We won't, hey?
Olive. Be quiet! This folly hath gone too far. [Sings spinning song.
SPINNING SONG.
Nancy. Massy, what screeches! [Screams violently.
Phœbe. Oh, Nancy, 'twas you screeched then.
Nancy. It wasn't me; 'twas a witch in the chimbly. (Screams again.) There, hear that, will ye? I tell ye 'twa'n't me. I 'ain't opened my mouth.
Olive. Nancy, I will bear no more of this. If you be not quiet, I will tell my mother when she comes home. Now, Phœbe, sing the rest of the song with me, and think no more of such folly. [Sings with Phœbe.
Nancy (wagging her head in time to the music). I know some words that go better with that tune.
Phœbe. What are they?
Nancy. Oh, I'm forbid to tell.
Phœbe. Who forbade you to tell, Nancy?
Nancy. The one who forbade me to tell, forbade me to tell who told me.
Olive. Don't gossip, or you won't get your stints done before mother comes home.
Phœbe (sulkily). I won't finish my stint. Aunt Corey set me too long a stint. I won't. Oh, there she is now! [Knits busily.
Enter Ann Hutchins.
Olive (rising). Well done, Ann. I was but now wishing to see you. Sit you down and lay off your cloak. Why, how pale you look, Ann! Are you sick?
Ann. You know best.
Olive. I? Why, what mean you, Ann?
Ann. You know what I mean, in spite of your innocent looks. Oh, open your eyes wide at me, if you want to! Perhaps you don't know what makes them bigger and bluer than they used to be.
Olive. Ann!
Ann. Oh, I mean nothing. I am not sick. Something frightened me as I came through the wood.
Olive. Frightened you! Why, what was it?
Phœbe. Oh, what was it, Ann?
Ann. I know not; something black that hustled quickly by me and raised a cold wind.
Phœbe. Oh, oh!
Olive. 'Twas a cat or a dog, and your own fear raised the cold wind. Think no more of it, Ann. Wait a moment while I go to the north room. I have something to show you. [Exit Olive with a candle.
Phœbe. What said the black thing to you, Ann?
Ann. I know not.
Nancy. Said it not: “Serve me; serve me?”
Ann. I know not. I was deaf with fear.
Phœbe. Oh, Ann, did it have horns?
Ann. I tell you I know not. You pester me, child.
Phœbe. Did it have hoofs and a tail?
Ann. Be quiet, I tell you, or I'll cuff your ears.
Nancy. She needn't be so topping. It will be laying in wait for her when she goes home. I'll warrant it won't let her off so easy.
Enter Olive, bringing an embroidered muslin cape. She puts it gently over Ann's shoulders.
Ann (throwing it off violently). Oh! oh! Take it away! take it away!
Olive. Why, Ann, what ails you?
Ann. Take it away, I say! What mean you by your cursed arts?
