PROCTOR,
pressing Parris away from her with a gentle but firm motion of protectiveness:
She would speak with the Deputy Governor.
DANFORTH,
shocked by this, turns to Herrick:
Did you not tell me Mary Warren were sick in bed?
HERRICK: She were, Your Honor. When I go to fetch her to the court last week, she said she were sick.
GILES: She has been strivin’ with her soul all week, Your Honor; she comes now to tell the truth of this to you.
DANFORTH: Who is this?
PROCTOR: John Proctor, sir. Elizabeth Proctor is my wife.
PARRIS: Beware this man, Your Excellency, this man is mischief.
HALE,
excitedly:
I think you must hear the girl, sir, she—
DANFORTH,
who has become very interested in Mary Warren and only raises a hand toward Hale:
Peace. What would you tell us, Mary Warren?
Proctor looks at her, but she cannot speak.
PROCTOR: She never saw no spirits, sir.
DANFORTH,
with great alarm and surprise, to Mary:
Never saw rio spirits!
GILES,
eagerly:
Never.
PROCTOR,
reaching into his jacket:
She has signed a deposition, sir—
DANFORTH,
instantly:
No, no, I accept no depositions.
He is rapidly calculating this; he turns from her to Proctor.
Tell me, Mr. Proctor, have you given out this story in the village?
PROCTOR: We have not.
PARRIS: They’ve come to overthrow the court, sir! This man is—
DANFORTH: I pray you, Mr. Parris. Do you know, Mr. Proctor, that the entire contention of the state in these trials is that the voice of Heaven is speaking through the children?
PROCTOR: I know that, sir.
DANFORTH,
thinks, staring at Proctor, then turns to Mary Warren:
And you, Mary Warren, how came you to cry out people for sending their spirits against you?
MARY WARREN: It were pretense, sir.
DANFORTH: I cannot hear you.
PROCTOR: It were pretense, she says.
DANFORTH: Ah? And the other girls? Susanna Walcott, and—the others? They are also pretending?
MARY WARREN: Aye, sir.
DANFORTH,
wide-eyed:
Indeed.
Pause. He is baffled by this. He turns to study Proctor’s face.
PARRIS,
in a sweat:
Excellency, you surely cannot think to let so vile a lie be spread in open court!
DANFORTH: Indeed not, but it strike hard upon me that she will dare come here with such a tale. Now, Mr. Proctor, before I decide whether I shall hear you or not, it is my duty to tell you this. We burn a hot fire here; it melts down all concealment.
PROCTOR: I know that, sir.
DANFORTH: Let me continue. I understand well, a husband’s tenderness may drive him to extravagance in defense of a wife. Are you certain in your conscience, Mister, that your evidence is the truth?
PROCTOR: It is. And you will surely know it.
DANFORTH: And you thought to declare this revelation in the open court before the public?
PROCTOR: I thought I would, aye—with your permission.
DANFORTH,
his eyes narrowing:
Now, sir, what is your purpose in so doing?
PROCTOR: Why, I—I would free my wife, sir.
DANFORTH: There lurks nowhere in your heart, nor hidden in your spirit, any desire to undermine this court?
PROCTOR,
with the faintest faltering:
Why, no, sir.
CHEEVER,
clears his throat, awakening:
I—Your Excellency.
DANFORTH: Mr. Cheever.
CHEEVER: I think it be my duty, sir—
Kindly, to Proctor:
You’ll not deny it, John.
To Danforth:
When we come to take his wife, he damned the court and ripped your warrant.
PARRIS: Now you have it!
DANFORTH: He did that, Mr. Hale?
HALE,
takes a breath:
Aye, he did.
PROCTOR: It were a temper, sir. I knew not what I did.
DANFORTH,
studying him:
Mr. Proctor.
PROCTOR: Aye, sir.
DANFORTH,
straight into his eyes:
Have you ever seen the Devil?
PROCTOR: No, sir.
DANFORTH: You are in all respects a Gospel Christian?
PROCTOR: I am, sir.
PARRIS: Such a Christian that will not come to church but once in a month!
DANFORTH,
restrained—he is curious:
Not come to church?
PROCTOR: I—I have no love for Mr. Parris. It is no secret. But God I surely love.
CHEEVER: He plow on Sunday, sir.
DANFORTH: Plow on Sunday!
CHEEVER,
apologetically:
I think it be evidence, John. I am an official of the court, I cannot keep it.
PROCTOR: I—I have once or twice plowed on Sunday. I have three children, sir, and until last year my land give little.
GILES: You’ll find other Christians that do plow on Sunday if the truth be known.
HALE: Your Honor, I cannot think you may judge the man on such evidence.
DANFORTH: I judge nothing.
Pause. He keeps watching Proctor, who tries to meet his gaze.
I tell you straight, Mister—I have seen marvels in this court. I have seen people choked before my eyes by spirits; I have seen them stuck by pins and slashed by daggers. I have until this moment not the slightest reason to suspect that the children may be deceiving me. Do you understand my meaning?
PROCTOR: Excellency, does it not strike upon you that so many of these women have lived so long with such upright reputation, and—
PARRIS: Do you read the Gospel, Mr. Proctor?
PROCTOR: I read the Gospel.
PARRIS: I think not, or you should surely know that Cain were an upright man, and yet he did kill Abel.
PROCTOR: Aye, God tells us that. To
Danforth:
But who tells us Rebecca Nurse murdered seven babies by sending out her spirit on them? It is the children only, and this one will swear she lied to you.
Danforth considers, then beckons Hathorne to him. Hathorne leans in, and he speaks in his ear. Hathorne nods.
HATHORNE: Aye, she’s the one.
DANFORTH: Mr. Proctor, this morning, your wife send me a claim in which she states that she is pregnant now.
PROCTOR: My wife pregnant!
DANFORTH: There be no sign of it—we have examined her body.
PROCTOR: But if she say she is pregnant, then she must be! That woman will never lie, Mr. Danforth.
DANFORTH: She will not?
PROCTOR: Never, sir, never.
DANFORTH: We have thought it too convenient to be credited. However, if I should tell you now that I will let her be kept another month; and if she begin to show her natural signs, you shall have her living yet another year until she is delivered—what say you to that?
John Proctor is struck silent.
Come now. You say your only purpose is to save your wife. Good, then, she is saved at least this year, and a year is long. What say you, sir? It is done now.
In conflict, Proctor glances at Francis and Giles.
Will you drop this charge?
PROCTOR: I—I think I cannot.
DANFORTH,
now an almost imperceptible hardness in his voice:
Then your purpose is somewhat larger.
PARRIS: He’s come to overthrow this court, Your Honor!
PROCTOR: These are my friends. Their wives are also accused—
DANFORTH,
with a sudden briskness of manner:
I judge you not, sir. I am ready to hear your evidence.
PROCTOR: I come not to hurt the court; I only—
DANFORTH,
cutting him off:
Marshal, go into the court and bid Judge Stoughton and Judge Sewall declare recess for one hour. And let them go to the tavern, if they will. All witnesses and prisoners are to be kept in the building.
HERRICK: Aye, sir.
Very deferentially:
If I may say it, sir, I know this man all my life. It is a good man, sir.
DANFORTH—
it is the reflection on himself he resents:
I am sure of it, Marshal.
Herrick nods, then goes out.
Now, what deposition do you have for us, Mr. Proctor? And I beg you be clear, open as the sky, and honest.
PROCTOR,
as he takes out several papers:
I am no lawyer, so I’ll—
DANFORTH: The pure in heart need no lawyers. Proceed as you will.
PROCTOR,
handing Danforth a paper:
Will you read this first, sir? It’s a sort of testament. The people signing it declare their good opinion of Rebecca, and my wife, and Martha Corey.
Danforth looks down at the paper.
PARRIS,
to enlist Danforth’s sarcasm:
Their good opinion!
But Danforth goes on reading, and Proctor is heartened.
PROCTOR: These are all landholding farmers, members of the church.
Delicately, trying to point out a paragraph:
If you’ll notice, sir—they’ve known the women many years and never saw no sign they had dealings with the Devil.
Parris nervously moves over and reads over Danforth’s shoulder.
DANFORTH,
glancing down a long list:
How many names are here?
FRANCIS: Ninety-one, Your Excellency.
PARRIS,
sweating:
These people should be summoned.
Danforth looks up at him questioningly.
For questioning.
FRANCIS,
trembling with anger:
Mr. Danforth, I gave them all my word no harm would come to them for signing this.
PARRIS: This is a clear attack upon the court!
HALE, to
Parris, trying to contain himself:
Is every defense an attack upon the court? Can no one—?
PARRIS: All innocent and Christian people are happy for the courts in Salem! These people are gloomy for it.
To Danforth directly:
And I think you will want to know, from each and every one of them, what discontents them with you!
HATHORNE: I think they ought to be examined, sir.
DANFORTH: It is not necessarily an attack, I think. Yet—
FRANCIS: These are all covenanted Christians, sir.
DANFORTH: Then I am sure they may have nothing to fear.
Hands Cheever the paper.
Mr. Cheever, have warrants drawn for all of these—arrest for examination.
To Proctor:
Now, Mister, what other information do you have for us?
Francis is still standing, horrified.
You may sit, Mr. Nurse.
FRANCIS: I have brought trouble on these people; I have—
DANFORTH: No, old man, you have not hurt these people if they are of good conscience. But you must understand, sir, that a person is either with this court or he must be counted against it, there be no road between. This is a sharp time, now, a precise time—we live no longer in the dusky afternoon when evil mixed itself with good and befuddled the world. Now, by God’s grace, the shining sun is up, and them that fear not light will surely praise it. I hope you will be one of those.
Mary Warren suddenly sobs.
She’s not hearty, I see.
PROCTOR: No, she’s not, sir.
To Mary, bending to her, holding her hand, quietly:
Now remember what the angel Raphael said to the boy Tobias. Remember it.
MARY WARREN,
hardly audible:
Aye.
PROCTOR: “Do that which is good, and no harm shall come to thee.”
MARY WARREN: Aye.
DANFORTH: Come, man, we wait you.
Marshal Herrick returns, and takes his post at the door.
GILES: John, my deposition, give him mine.
PROCTOR: Aye.
He hands Danforth another paper.
This is Mr. Corey’s deposition.
DANFORTH: Oh?
He looks down at it. Now Hathorne comes behind him and reads with him.
HATHORNE,
suspiciously:
What lawyer drew this, Corey?
GILES: You know I never hired a lawyer in my life, Hathorne.
DANFORTH,
finishing the reading:
It is very well phrased. My compliments. Mr. Parris, if Mr. Putnam is in the court, will you bring him in?
Hathorne takes the deposition, and walks to the window with it. Parris goes into the court.
You have no legal training, Mr. Corey?
GILES,
very pleased:
I have the best, sir—I am thirty-three time in court in my life. And always plaintiff, too.
DANFORTH: Oh, then you’re much put-upon.
GILES: I am never put-upon; I know my rights, sir, and I will have them. You know, your father tried a case of mine—might be thirty-five year ago, I think.
DANFORTH: Indeed.
GILES: He never spoke to you of it?
DANFORTH: No, I cannot recall it.
GILES: That’s strange, he give me nine pound damages. He were a fair judge, your father. Y’see, I had a white mare that time, and this fellow come to borrow the mare—
Enter Parris with Thomas Putnam. When he sees Putnam, Giles’ ease goes; he is hard.
Aye, there he is.
DANFORTH: Mr. Putnam, I have here an accusation by Mr. Corey against you. He states that you coldly prompted your daughter to cry witchery upon George Jacobs that is now in jail.
PUTNAM: It is a lie.
DANFORTH,
turning to Giles:
Mr. Putnam states your charge is a lie. What say you to that?
GILES,
furious, his fists clenched:
A fart on Thomas Putnam, that is what I say to that!
DANFORTH: What proof do you submit for your charge, sir?
GILES: My proof is there!
Pointing to the paper.
If Jacobs hangs for a witch he forfeit up his property—that’s law! And there is none but Putnam with the coin to buy so great a piece. This man is killing his neighbors for their land!
DANFORTH: But proof, sir, proof.
GILES,
pointing at his deposition:
The proof is there! I have it from an honest man who heard Putnam say it! The day his daughter cried out on Jacobs, he said she’d given him a fair gift of land.