Monologue

Nancy Monologue from Giles Corey, Yeoman: A Play

From Giles Corey, Yeoman: A Play by Mary Eleanor Wilkins Freeman

female · defiant · 44 sec

I would that I had my fingers in old man Hathorne's fine wig. I would yank it off for him, and fling it to the pigs. A-sending master and mistress to jail, and they no more witches than I be! (Phoebe: Oh, Nancy, be we witches? They have not sent us to jail.) I know not what we be. My old head will not hold it all. It is time they came home. There is not a crumb of sweet-cake in the house, and the stopple is so tight in the cider-barrel that I cannot stir it a peg. [ (Weeps.)

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