The+Crucible+Act+Two

ACT II

Proctor’s house, eight days later. Elizabeth is heard softly singing to the children. John Proctor enters D.R., carrying his gun, and leans it against a bench. Crosses to the wash stand, pours water into it from pitcher. As he is washing, Elizabeth’s footsteps are heard. Elizabeth enters, D.L. ELIZABETH: What keeps you so late? It’s almost dark.

PROCTOR: I were planting far out to the forest edge.

ELIZABETH: Oh, you’re done then.

PROCTOR: Aye, the farm is seeded. The boys asleep? (Dips hands in water, wipes them.)

ELIZABETH: (Removes water and towel, goes out L., and returns with dish of stew.) They will be soon. (Serves stew in a dish.)

PROCTOR: Pray now for a fair summer.

ELIZABETH: (Goes out L., returns with another dish.) Aye.

PROCTOR: Are you well today?

ELIZABETH: I am. It is a rabbit.

PROCTOR: Oh, is it! Cider?

ELIZABETH: Aye! (Gets jug from off L., pours drink into pewter mug, brings it to him.) You come so late I thought you’d gone to Salem this afternoon.

PROCTOR: Why? I have no business in Salem.

ELIZABETH: You did speak of goin’, earlier this week.

PROCTOR: I thought better of it, since.

ELIZABETH: Mary Warren’s there today.

PROCTOR: Why’d you let her? You heard me forbid her go to Salem any more!

ELIZABETH: I forbid her go, and she raises up her chin like the daughter of a prince, and says to me, “I must go to Salem, Goody Proctor, I am an official of the court!”

PROCTOR: Court! What court?

ELIZABETH: Ay, it is a proper court they have now. They’ve sent four judges out of Boston, she says, weighty magistrates of the General Court, and at the head sits the Deputy Governor of the Province.

PROCTOR: (Astonished.) Why, she’s mad.

ELIZABETH: I would to God she were. There be fourteen people in the jail now, she says. And they’ll be tried, and the court have power to hang them too, she says.

PROCTOR: Ah, they’d never hang….

ELIZABETH: The Deputy Governor promise hangin’ if they’ll not confess, John. The town’s gone wild, I think—Mary Warren speak of Abigail as though she were a saint, to hear her. She brings the other girls into the court, and where she walks the crowd will part like the sea for Israel. And folks are brought before them, and if Abigail scream and howl and fall to the floor—the person’s clapped in the jail for bewitchin’ her. (He can’t look at her.)

PROCTOR: Oh, it is a black mischief.

ELIZABETH: I think you must go to Salem, John. I think so. You must tell them it is a fraud.

PROCTOR: Aye, it is, it is surely.

ELIZABETH: Let you go to Ezekiel Cheever—he knows you well. And tell him what she said to you last week in her uncle’s house. She said it had naught to do with witchcraft, did she not?

PROCTOR: (In thought. Sighing.) Aye, she did, she did.

ELIZABETH: (Quietly, fearing to anger him by prodding. A step L.) God forbid you keep that from the court, John; I think they must be told.

PROCTOR: Ay, they must, they must….It is a wonder that they do believe her.

ELIZABETH: I would go to Salem now, John… let you go tonight.

PROCTOR: I’ll think on it.

ELIZABETH: (With her courage now.) You cannot keep it, John.

PROCTOR: (Angering.) I know I cannot keep it. I say I will think on it!

ELIZABETH: (Hurt, and very coldly.) Good then, let you think on it.

PROCTOR: (Defensively.) I am only wondering how I may prove what she told me, Elizabeth. If the girl’s a saint now, I think it is not easy to prove she’s fraud, and the town gone so silly. She told it to me in a room alone—I have no proof for it.

ELIZABETH: You were alone with her?

PROCTOR: For a moment alone, aye.

ELIZABETH: Why, then, it is not as you told me.

PROCTOR: For a moment, I say. The others come in soon after.

ELIZABETH: Do as you wish, then.

PROCTOR: Woman. I’ll not have your suspicion any more.

ELIZABETH: (A little loftily.) I have no…

PROCTOR: I’ll not have it!

ELIZABETH: Then let you not earn it.

PROCTOR: (With a violent undertone.) You doubt me yet?!

ELIZABETH: John, if it were not Abigail that you must go to hurt, would you falter now? I think not.

PROCTOR: Now look you…

ELIZABETH: I see what I see, John.

PROCTOR: You will not judge me more, Elizabeth. I have good reason to think before I charge fraud on Abigail, and I will think on it. Let you look to your own improvement before you go to judge your husband any more.

ELIZABETH: I do not judge you. The magistrate sits in your heart that judges you. I never thought you but a good man, John, only somewhat bewildered.

PROCTOR: Oh, Elizabeth, your justice would freeze beer. (enter Mary) How dare you go to Salem when I forbid it! Do you mock me? I’ll whip you if you dare leave this house again!

MARY: (Weakly, sickly.) I am sick, I am sick, Mister Proctor. Pray, pray hurt me not. My insides are all shuddery; I am in the proceedings all day, sir.

PROCTOR: (Angrily in a loud voice as Mary is crossing.) And what of these proceedings here?-when will you proceed to keep this house as you are paid nine pound a year to do?-and my wife not wholly well?

MARY: (Crossing to Elizabeth, taking a small rag doll from pocket in her undershirt.) I made a gift for you today, Goody Proctor. I had to sit long hours in a chair, and passed the time with sewing.

ELIZABETH: (Perplexed, she looks at the doll.) Why, thank you. It’s a fair poppet.

MARY: (Fervently, with a trembling, decayed voice.) We must all love each other now, Goody Proctor.

ELIZABETH: (Amazed at her strangeness.) --Aye, indeed we must.

MARY: I’ll get up early in the morning and clean the house. I must sleep now.

PROCTOR: Mary. Is it true there be fourteen women arrested?

MARY: No, sir. There be thirty-nine now…. (She suddenly breaks off and sobs.)

ELIZABETH: Why, she’s weepin’! What ails you, child? (Elizabeth hugs her.)

MARY: Goody Osburn…will hang!

PROCTOR: Hang! Hang, y’say?

MARY: Aye….

PROCTOR: The deputy Governor will permit it?

MARY: He sentenced her. He must-But not Sarah Good. For Sarah Good confessed, y’see.

PROCTOR: Confessed! To what?

MARY: That she sometimes made a compact with Lucifer, and wrote her name in his black book—with her blood—and bound herself to torment Christians till God’s thrown down… and we all must worship Hell forevermore. (Elizabeth puts doll on table.)

PROCTOR: But…surely you know what a jabberer she is. Did you tell them that?

MARY: Mister Proctor, in open court she near choked us all to death.

PROCTOR: How choked you?

MARY: She sent her spirit out.

ELIZABETH: Oh, Mary, Mary, surely you…

MARY: She tried to kill me many times, Goody Proctor!

ELIZABETH: Why, I never heard you mention that before.

MARY: (Innocently.) I never knew it before. I never knew anything before. When she come into the court I say to myself, I must not accuse this woman, for she sleep in ditches, and so very old and poor… But then… then she sit there, denying and denying, and I feel a misty coldness climbin’ up my back, and the skin on my skull begin to creep, and I feel a clamp around my neck and I cannot breathe air; and then… (Entranced as though it were a miracle.) I hear a voice, a screamin’ voice, and it were my voice… and all at once I remembered everything she done to me! (Slight pause as Proctor watches Elizabeth pass him, then speaks, being aware of Elizabeth’s alarm.)

PROCTOR: (Looking at Elizabeth.) Why?—What did she do to you?

MARY: (Like one awakened to a marvelous secret insight.) So many time, Mister Proctor, she come to this very door beggin’ bread and a cup of cider—and mark this—whenever I turned her away empty—she mumbled.

ELIZABETH: Mumbled! She may mumble, hungry.

MARY: But what does she mumble? You must remember, Goody Proctor—last month—a Monday, I think—she walked away and I thought my guts would burst for two days after. Do you remember it?

ELIZABETH: Why… I do, think, but…

MARY: And so I told that to Judge Hathorne, and he asks her so—“Goody Good,” says he, “what curse do you mumble that this girl must fall sick after turning you away?” And then she replies: (Mimicking an old crone.)—“Why, your excellence, no curse at all; I only say my commandments; I hope I may say my commandments,” says she!

ELIZABETH: And that’s an upright answer.

MARY: Aye, but then Judge Hathorne say, “Recite for us your commandments!”—and of all the ten she could not say a single one. She never knew no commandments, and they had her in a flat lie!

PROCTOR: And so condemned her?

MARY: (Impatient at his stupidity.) Why, they must when she condemned herself.

PROCTOR: But the proof, the proof?

MARY: (With greater impatience with him.) I told you the proof—it’s hard proof, hard as rock the judges said.

PROCTOR: You will not go to that court again, Mary Warren.

MARY: (Defiantly.) I must tell you, sir, I will be gone every day now. I am amazed you do not see what weighty work we do.

PROCTOR: What work you do! It’s strange work for a Christian girl to hang old women!

MARY: But, Mister Proctor, they will not hang them if they confess. Sarah Good will only sit in jail some time… and here’s a wonder for you, think on this. Goody Good is pregnant!

ELIZABETH: Pregnant! Are they mad?—the woman’s near to sixty!

MARY: (Happy with wonders of the court.) They had Doctor Griggs examine her and she’s full to the brim. And smokin’ a pipe all these years and no husband either!—but she’s safe, thank God, for they’ll not hurt the innocent child. (Smiling happily.) But be that not a marvel? You must see it, sir, it’s God’s work we do…. So I’ll be gone every day for some time. I’m… I am an official of the court, they say, and I…

PROCTOR: I’ll official you! (Rises, gets whip.)

MARY: (Striving for her authority.) I’ll not stand whipping any more! The Devil’s loose in Salem, Mister Proctor, we must discover where he’s hiding!

PROCTOR: I’ll whip the Devil out of you…! (With whip raised she yells.)

MARY: (Pointing at Elizabeth.) I saved her life today! (Silence. His whip comes down.)

ELIZABETH: (Softly.) I am accused?

MARY: You were somewhat mentioned. But I said I never see no sign you ever sent your spirit out to hurt no one, and seeing I do live so closely with you, they dismissed it.

ELIZABETH: Who accused me?

MARY: I am bound by law; I cannot tell it.

PROCTOR: (In disgust at her.) Go to bed.

MARY: I’ll not be ordered to bed no more, Mister Proctor! I am eighteen and a woman, however single!

PROCTOR: Do you wish to sit up?—then sit up.

MARY: (Stamping foot.) I wish to go to bed!

PROCTOR: (In anger.) Good night, then!

MARY: Good night. (She goes out L. He throws whip down.)

ELIZABETH: Oh, the noose, the noose is up!

PROCTOR: There’ll be no noose…

ELIZABETH: She wants me dead; I knew all week it would come to this!

PROCTOR: They dismissed it. You heard her say…

ELIZABETH: And what of tomorrow?-she will cry me out until they take me!

PROCTOR: Sit you down…

ELIZABETH: She wants me dead, John, you know it!

PROCTOR: I say sit down! Now, we must be wise, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: Oh, indeed, indeed!

PROCTOR: Fear nothing. I’ll find Ezekiel Cheever. I’ll tell him she said it was all sport.

ELIZABETH: John, with so many in the jail, more than that is needed now, I think. Would you favor me with this?-Go to Abigail.

PROCTOR: What have I to say to Abigail?

ELIZABETH: John…grant me this. You have a faulty understanding of young girls. There is a promise made in any bed…

PROCTOR: What promise?

ELIZABETH: Spoke or silent, a promise is surely made. And she may dote on it now-I am sure she does-and thinks to kill me, then to take my place. It is her dearest hope, John, I know it. There be a thousand names, why does she call mine? There be a certain danger in calling such a name-I am no Goody Good that sleeps in ditches, nor Osburn drink and half-witted. She’d dare not call out such a farmer’s wife but there be monstrous profit in it. She thinks to take my place, John.

PROCTOR: She cannot think it.

ELIZABETH: John, have you ever shown her somewhat of contempt? She cannot pass you in the church but you will blush…

PROCTOR: I may blush for my sin.

ELIZABETH: I think she sees another meaning in that blush.

PROCTOR: And what see you? What you see, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: I think you be somewhat ashamed, for I am there, and she so close.

PROCTOR: When will you know me, woman? Were I stone I would have cracked for shame this seven-month!

ELIZABETH: Then go-and tell her she’s a whore. Whatever promise she may sense-break it, John, break it.

PROCTOR: Good, then. I’ll go.

HALE: Good evening.

PROCTOR: Why, Mister Hale! Good evening to you, sir. Come in, come in.

HALE: I hope I do not startle you.

ELIZABETH: No-no, it’s only that I heard no horse…

HALE: You are Goodwife Proctor.

PROCTOR: Aye: Elizabeth.

HALE: I hope you’re not off to bed yet.

PROCTOR: No-no…let you come in, Mister Hale. We are not used to visitors after dark, but you’re welcome here. Will you sit you down, sir?

HALE: I will. Let you sit, Goodwife Proctor.

PROCTOR: Will you drink cider, Mister Hale?

HALE: No, it rebels my stomach—I have some further traveling yet tonight. Sit you down, sir. I will not keep you long, but I have some business with you.

PROCTOR: Business of the court?

HALE: (Hesitantly.) No… no, I come of my own, without the court’s authority. Hear me. I know not if you are aware, but your wife’s name is… mentioned in the court.

PROCTOR: We know it, sir. Our Mary Warren told us. We are entirely amazed.

HALE: I am a stranger here, as you know. And in my ignorance, I find it hard to draw a clear opinion of them that come accused before the court. And so this afternoon, and now tonight, I go from house to house…. I come now from Rebecca Nurse’s house and…

ELIZABETH: (Shocked.) Rebecca’s charged!

PROCTOR: (Taken aback.) Surely you cannot think so.

HALE: This is a strange time, Mister. No man may longer doubt the powers of the dark are gathered in monstrous attack upon this village. There is too much evidence now to deny it. You will agree, sir?

PROCTOR: (Evading.) I… have no knowledge in that line. But it’s hard to think so pious a woman be secretly a Devil’s bitch after seventy year of such good prayer.

HALE: Aye. But the Devil is a wily one, you cannot deny it. However, she is far from accused, and I know she will not be. I thought, sir, to put some questions as to the Christian character of this house, if you’ll permit me.

PROCTOR: Why, we… have no fear of questions, sir.

HALE: Good, then. In the book of record that Mister Parris keeps, I note that you are rarely in the church on Sabbath Day….

PROCTOR: No, sir, you are mistaken….

HALE: Only twenty-six time in seventeen month, sir. I must call that rare. Will you tell me why you are so absent?

PROCTOR: Mister Hale, (Slight pause as he controls himself.) I never knew I must account to that man for I come to church or stay at home…. My wife were sick this winter.

HALE: (Kindly.) So I am told. But you, Mister, why could you not come alone?

PROCTOR: I surely did come when I could, and when I could not I prayed in this house.

HALE: Mister Proctor, your house is not a church. A Christian on Sabbath Day must be in church…. Tell me—you have three children.

PROCTOR: Aye. Boys.

HALE: How come it that only two are baptized?

PROCTOR: (Pauses as he controls himself and looks at Elizabeth. Uncomfortable at the thought.) I like it not that Mister Parris should lay his hand upon my baby. I see no light of God in that man. I’ll not conceal it.

HALE: I must say it, Mister Proctor; that is not for you to decide. The man’s ordained, therefore the light of God is in him.

PROCTOR: It may be I have been too quick to bring the man to book, but you cannot think we ever desired the destruction of religion. I think that’s in your mind, is it not?

HALE: I… have… there is a softness in your record, sir, a softness.

ELIZABETH: I think, maybe, we have been too hard with Mister Parris. I think so. But sure we never loved the Devil here.

HALE: Do you know your commandments, Elizabeth?

ELIZABETH: (Without hesitation, simply, primly.) I surely do. There be no mark of blame upon my life, Mister Hale, I am a covenanted Christian woman.

HALE: And you, Mister?

PROCTOR: I… am sure I do, sir.

HALE: Let you repeat them, if you will.

PROCTOR: …The Commandments?

HALE: Aye.

PROCTOR: Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods, nor make unto thee any graven image. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain; thou shalt have no other gods before me… thou shalt remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy. Thou shalt honor thy father and mother. Thou shalt not bear false witness. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image.

HALE: You have said that twice, sir.

PROCTOR: Aye.

ELIZABETH: (Delicately.) Adultery, John.

PROCTOR: (As though a secret arrow has pained his heart.) Aye! (Trying to grin it away—to Hale.) You see, sir, between the two of us we do know them all. (Hale only looks at Proctor, deep in his attempt to define this man. Proctor grows more uneasy.) I think it be a small fault.

HALE: (Thoughtfully and regretfully.) Theology, sir, is a fortress; no crack in a fortress may be accounted small.

PROCTOR: There be no love for Satan in this house.

HALE: I pray it, I pray it dearly. (Rising.) Well, then, I’ll bid you good night.

ELIZABETH: (Unable to restrain her anxiety.) Mister Hale. I do think you are suspecting me somewhat? Are you not?

HALE: Goody Proctor, I do not judge you. My duty is to add what I may to the Godly wisdom of the court. I pray you both good health and good fortune. Good night, sir. (Starts out R.)

ELIZABETH: (With a note of desperation.) I think you must tell him, John.

HALE: What’s that?

ELIZABETH: Will you tell him?

PROCTOR: I… I have no witness and cannot prove it, except my word be taken. But I know the children’s sickness had naught to do with witchcraft.

HALE: (Stopped, struck.) Naught to do…?

PROCTOR: They were discovered by Mr. Parris sporting in the woods. They were startled, and took sick.

HALE: Who told you this?

PROCTOR: Abigail Williams.

HALE: Abigail!

PROCTOR: Aye. She told me the day you came, sir?

HALE: Why… why did you keep this?

PROCTOR: I never knew until tonight that the world is gone daft with this nonsense.

HALE: Nonsense! Mister, I have myself examined Tituba, Sarah Good and numerous others that have confessed to dealing with the Devil. They have confessed it.

PROCTOR: (With dry, bitter humor.) And why not, if they must hang for denyin’ it? There are them that will swear to anything before they’ll hang; have you never thought of that?

HALE: (It is his own suspicion, but he resists it.) I have. I… I have indeed. And you… would you testify this to the court?

PROCTOR: I…. had not reckoned with going into court…. But if I must I will.

HALE: Ah, you falter there? I think you…

PROCTOR: (Controlling himself.) …I falter nothing, but I… I may wonder if my story will be credited in such a court. I do wonder on it, when a minister as steady minded as you will suspicion such a woman that never lied; she cannot lie, and the world knows she cannot. I may falter somewhat, Mister, I am no fool.

HALE: (Quietly—it has impressed him.) Proctor, let you open with me now, for I have heard a thing that troubles me. It’s said you hold no belief that there may even be witches in the world. Is that true, sir?

PROCTOR: I have no knowledge of it; the Bible speaks of witches, and I will not deny them.

HALE: And you, woman?

ELIZABETH: I… I cannot believe it.

HALE: (Shocked.) You cannot!

ELIZABETH: I cannot think the Devil may own a woman’s soul, Mister Hale, when she keeps an upright way, as I have. I am a good woman, I know it; and if you believe I may do only good work in the world, and yet be secretly bound to Satan, then I must tell you, sir, I do not believe it. If you think I am one, then I say there are none.

HALE: You surely do not fly against the Gospel, the Gospel…

PROCTOR: She do not mean to doubt the Gospel, sir, you cannot think it. This be a Christian house, sir, a Christian house.

HALE: (Sighing.) God keep you both; let the third child be quickly baptized and go you without fail each Sunday into Sabbath prayer; and keep a solemn, quiet way among you. I think… (Enter Corey, R.)

COREY: John!

PROCTOR: Giles! What’s the matter?

COREY: They take my wife. And Rebecca Nurse! (Nurse enters R.)

PROCTOR: (To Nurse.) Rebecca’s in the jail!

NURSE: John, Cheever come and take her in his wagon. We’ve only now come from the jail and they’ll not even let us in to see them.

ELIZABETH: They’ve surely gone wild now, Mister Hale!

NURSE: Reverend Hale. Can you not speak to the Deputy Governor?—I’m sure he mistakes these people…

HALE: Pray calm yourself, Mister Nurse….

NURSE: My wife is the very brick and mortar of the church, Mister Hale—and Martha Corey, there cannot be a woman closer yet to God then Martha.

HALE: (Incredulously.) How is Rebecca charged, Mr. Nurse?

NURSE: For murder, she’s charged! “For the marvelous and supernatural murder of Goody Putnam’s babies.” What am I to do, Mr. Hale?

HALE: Believe me, sir, if Rebecca Nurse be tainted, then nothing’s left to stop the whole green world from burning. Let you rest upon the justice of the court; the court will send her home, I know it…

NURSE: You cannot mean she will be tried in the court!

PROCTOR: How may such a woman murder children?

HALE: Man, remember, until an hour before the Devil fell, God thought him beautiful in Heaven.

COREY: I never said my wife were a witch, Mister Hale, I only said she were reading books!

HALE: Mister Corey, exactly what complaint were made on your wife?

COREY: That bloody mongrel Walcott charge her. Y’see, he buy a pig of my wife four or five year ago, and the pig died soon after. So he come dancin’ in for his money back. So my Martha she says to him, “Walcott, if you haven’t the wit to feed a pig properly, you’ll not live to own many,” she says. Now she goes to court and claims that from that day to this he cannot keep a pig alive for more than four weeks because my Martha bewitch them with her books! (Enter Cheever R.)

CHEEVER: Good evening. Good evening to you, John Proctor.

PROCTOR: Why… Mister Cheever. Good evening. I hope you come not on business of the court?

CHEEVER: I do, Proctor, aye. I am clerk of the court now, y’know. (Takes a warrant from pocket.) I have a warrant for your wife.

PROCTOR: What say you? A warrant for my wife? Who charged her?

CHEEVER: Why, Abigail Williams charge her.

PROCTOR: Abigail Williams? On what proof, what proof!

CHEEVER: Mister Proctor, I have little time…. The court bid me search your house, but I like not to search a house. So will you hand me any poppets that your wife may keep here.

PROCTOR: Poppets?

ELIZABETH: I never kept no poppets, not since I were a girl.

CHEEVER: I spy a poppet, Goody Proctor.

ELIZABETH: (Gets doll.) Oh!—Why, this is Mary’s.

CHEEVER: Would you please to give it to me?

ELIZABETH: (Handing doll to Cheever.) Has the court discovered a text in poppets now?

CHEEVER: (Carefully holds doll.) Do you keep any others in this house?

PROCTOR: No, nor this one either till tonight.

CHEEVER: Now, woman… will you please to come with me.

PROCTOR: She will not. (To Elizabeth.) Fetch Mary here. (Elizabeth goes out D.L.)

HALE: (Bewildered.) What signifies a poppet, Mister Cheever?

CHEEVER: (Turns doll over in his hands.) Why, they say it may signify that she… (He has lifted doll’s skirt, and his eyes widen in astonished fear.) Why, this, this…

PROCTOR: What’s there?

CHEEVER: Why… (Draws out a long needle from doll.) it is a needle!

PROCTOR: And what signifies a needle?

CHEEVER: The girl, the Williams girl, Abigail Williams, sir. She sat to dinner in Reverend Parris’ house tonight, and without word nor warnin’, she falls to the floor. Like a struck beast, he says, and screamed a scream that a bull would weep to hear. And he goes to save her, and stuck two inches in the flesh of her belly he draw a needle out. And demandin’ of her how she come to be so stabbed, she… (To Proctor.) testify it were your wife’s familiar spirit pushed it in.

PROCTOR: Why, she done it herself! I hope you’re not takin’ this for proof, Mister Hale.

CHEEVER: ‘Tis hard proof.—I find here a poppet Goody Proctor keeps. I have found it, sir. And in the belly of the poppet a needle stuck. I tell you true, Proctor, I never warranted to see such proof of Hell, and I bid you obstruct me not, for I… (Enter Elizabeth with Mary.)

PROCTOR: Here now! Mary, how did this poppet come into my house?

MARY: What poppet’s that, sir?

PROCTOR: This poppet, this poppet.

MARY: (Looks at it, and evasively says.) Why, I… I think it is mine.

PROCTOR: (A threat.) It is your poppet, is it not?

MARY: It … is, sir.

PROCTOR: And how did it come into this house?

MARY: Why… I made it in the court, sir, and… give it to Goody Proctor tonight.

PROCTOR: (To Hale.) Now, sir—do you have it?

HALE: Mary Warren… a needle have been found inside this poppet.

MARY: Why, I meant no harm by it, sir….

PROCTOR: You stuck that needle in yourself?

MARY: I… I believe I did, sir, I…

PROCTOR: What say you now?

HALE: (Still kindly endeavoring to get at the truth.) Child… you are certain this be your natural memory?—may it be, perhaps, that someone conjures you even now to say this?

MARY: Conjures me?—Why, no, sir, I am entirely myself, I think. Let you ask Susanna Wallcott—she saw me sewin’ it in court. Ask Abby, Abby sat beside me when I made it.

HALE: Mary… you charge a cold and cruel murder on Abigail.

MARY: Murder! I charge no…

HALE: Abigail were stabbed tonight; a needle were found stuck into her belly….

ELIZABETH: And she charges me?!

HALE: Aye.

ELIZABETH: Why…!—The girl is murder! She must be ripped out of the world!

CHEEVER: You’ve heard that, sir!—Ripped out of the world! You heard it!

PROCTOR: (Suddenly snatches warrant out of Cheever’s hand and rips it.) Out with you!

CHEEVER: You’ve ripped the Deputy Governor’s warrant, man!

PROCTOR: Damn the Deputy Governor! Out of my house!

HALE: Now, Proctor, Proctor…

PROCTOR: (To Hale.) Get y’ gone with them! You are a broken minister.

HALE: Proctor, if she is innocent the court…

PROCTOR: If she is innocent! Why do you never wonder if Parris be innocent, or Abigail? Is the accuser always holy now? Were they born this morning as clean as God’s fingers? I’ll tell you what’s walking Salem—vengeance is walking Salem. We are what we always were in Salem, but now the little crazy children are jangling the keys of the kingdom, and common vengeance writes the law! This warrant’s vengeance; I will not give my wife to vengeance!

ELIZABETH: I’ll go, John…

PROCTOR: You will not go! (Sweeps his gun up, pointing it at Cheever.)

ELIZABETH: John… (She presses the rifle down.) I think I must go with them. (Taking off apron, handing it to Mary.) Mary… there is bread enough for the morning; you will bake in the afternoon. Help Mister Proctor as you were his daughter… you owe me that, and much more. (Takes Proctor’s hand. To Proctor….) When the children wake, speak nothing of witchcraft… it will frighten them….

PROCTOR: (Taking her hands.) I will bring you home. I will bring you soon.

ELIZABETH: Oh, John, bring me soon!

PROCTOR: I will fall like an ocean on that court! Fear nothing, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: I will fear nothing. (Takes shawl from wash stand, he puts it on her. They cross R. Cheever exit R.) Tell the children I have gone to visit someone sick…. (She breaks off, goes out.)

HALE: Mister Proctor…

PROCTOR: (His weeping heart pressing his words.) Out of my sight!

HALE: (Pleading.) Charity, Proctor, Charity—what I have heard in her favor I will not fear to testify in court. God help me, I cannot judge her guilty nor innocent…. I know not. Only this consider—the world goes mad, and it profits nothing you should lay the cause to the vengeance of a little girl.

PROCTOR: You are a coward! Though you be ordained in God’s own tears, you are a coward now! (Hale goes out with Nurse.)

COREY: John… tell me, are we lost?

PROCTOR: Go home now, Giles. We’ll speak on it tomorrow.

COREY: Let you think on it; we’ll come early, eh?

PROCTOR: Aye. Go now, Giles.

COREY: Good night, then. (Corey goes out R. Long pause.)

MARY: Mister Proctor, very likely they’ll let her come home once they’re given proper evidence.

PROCTOR: You’re coming to that court with me, Mary. You will tell it in the court.

MARY: I cannot charge murder on Abigail….

PROCTOR: You will tell the court how that poppet come here and who stuck the needle in.

MARY: She’ll kill me for sayin’ that! Abby’ll charge lechery on you, Mister Proctor!

PROCTOR: (Stops.) …She’s told you!

MARY: I have known it, sir. She’ll ruin you with it, I know she will.

PROCTOR: (Advancing on her.) Good. Then her saintliness is done with. We will slide together into our pit. You will tell the court what you know.

MARY: I cannot. They’ll turn on me.

PROCTOR: (Grabs her.) My wife will never die for me. I will bring your guts into your mouth, but that goodness will not die for me. (Mary continues sobbing, “I cannot!”) CURTAIN