Winifred Sanderson: My ungodly book speaks to you. On All Hallow's Eve, when the moon is round, a virgin will summon us from under the ground. Oh oh! We shall be back, and the lives of all the children of Salem will be mine!
[All three witches cackle]
Winifred Sanderson: Twist the bones and bend the back
Sarah, Mary Sanderson: Itch-it-a-cop-it-a-Mel-a-ka-mys-ti-ca
Winifred Sanderson: Trim him of his baby fat
Sarah, Mary Sanderson: Itch-it-a-cop-it-a-Mel-a-ka-mys-ti-ca
Winifred Sanderson: Give him fur black as black, just
Mary Sanderson: Like
Sarah: This!
October
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
