OPIS

I watched today as Giles Corey was presst to death between the stones. He had lain so for two dayes mute. With each stone, they tolde him he must plead, lest more stones be added. But he only whispered, More weight. Standing in the crowde, I found Goodwyfe Dane, who, as the last stone lover'd, went white, grippt my hand, and wept. Salem Towne, 16 September, 1692

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