Act Two Scene Four Flashcards
ELIZABETH You’ll tear it free—when you come to know that I will be your only wife, or no wife at all! She has an arrow in you yet, John Proctor, and you know it well!
Enter Hale.
HALE Good evening.
PROCTOR Why, Mister Hale! Good evening to you, sir. Come in, come in.
I hope I do not startle you.
PROCTOR No-no…let you come in, Mister Hale. We are not used to visitors after dark, but you‘re welcome here. Will you join me in a cider?
No, I will not keep you long, but I do have some business with you.
PROCTOR Business of the court?
(Hesitantly.) No… no, I come of my own, without the court‘s authority… Your wife‘s name is… mentioned in the court.
PROCTOR We know it, sir. Our Mary told us.
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 Rebecca‘s charged!
God forbid such a one be charged. She is, however—mentioned somewhat.
ELIZABETH You will never believe that Rebecca trafficked with the Devil.
Woman, it is possible.
PROCTOR Surely you cannot think so.
There is simply too much evidence now to deny it.
PROCTOR I… have no knowledge in that line. But it‘s hard to think so pious a woman be secretly dancing with the Devil after seventy year of such good prayer.
Aye. But the Devil is a wily one. Forgive me sir, but I thought 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.
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….
Only twenty-six time in seventeen month, sir. I must call that rare.
PROCTOR Mister Hale, (Slight pause as he controls himself.) my wife were sick this winter.
So I am told. But why could you not come?
PROCTOR I surely did when I could, and when I could not I prayed in this house.
Mister Proctor, your house is not a church, your theology must tell you that.
PROCTOR It does, sir, it does; and it tells me that a minister may pray to God without golden candlesticks upon the altar.
What golden candlesticks?
PROCTOR I labor the earth from dawn to cusp of night, and I tell you true, when I look to heaven and see my money glaring at his elbows—it hurt my prayer, sir. That man dreams cathedrals, not clapboard meetin’ houses.
And yet, Mister, a Christian on Sabbath Day must be in church…. Tell me—you have three children.
