PROLOGUE
Reading edition
(Spoken by the Muse of Hawthorne)
Ye who have known the great Enchanter's art, Whose magic fired your brain and stirred your heart, Whose touch, more potent than King Midas' gold, Wrought Tales of Tanglewood and Tales Twice Told, Whose Marble Faun and Mosses from the Manse Still hold the lasting colors of Romance; Who built 'for you the Hall of Fantasy Through whose bright portals you might pass and see Hester and Miriam and Goodman Brown And Pyncheron, who dwelt in Salem Town— Malvin and Endicott and Ethan Brand, John Inglefield and that old crone whose hand Was lent to fashioning Scarecrows built of straw— All these through the Enchanter's eyes you saw, Strange folk who trod the bleak New England shores, Tithingmen, Sachems, Witches, Sagamores, Puritans, Soldiers, Scholars, Quaker maids, Royalists splendid in their rich brocades! To-day the past has opened wide her door, Scenes long since gone return to us once more, Touched with the alchemy of history's gold.
First, ancient Salem, as it was, behold In the grim days when "Witchcraft!" was the cry, When folk declared that they saw witches fly On devil's broomsticks straight across the moon, While the wind piped by night a witch's tune; When, e'en by day, intrepid witch-wives spoke, Then vanished upward through the chimney smoke! The Witches' Wood—this our first scene will show, And all that once transpired there long ago.
Our second scene will picture Merrymount Where lived gay royalists who took no count Of Puritanic manners, and who sang And laughed till all the woods about them rang With outlaw merriment. These you will see Engaged in maypole dance and minstrelsy, While Puritans with grave and somber mien Condemn such light-foot revels on the green! These have you known on Hawthorne's living page.
Now shall you see them pictured on our stage.
Grant us your patience: lend your ears as well.
The rest our pageant now will strive to tell.