Quote 10
PROCTOR: Mary, tell the Governor what they—(He has hardly got a word out, when, seeing him coming for her, she rushes out of his reach, screaming in horror.)
MARY WARREN: Don't touch me—don't touch me! (At which the girls halt at the door.)
PROCTOR, astonished: Mary!
MARY WARREN, pointing at Proctor: You're the Devil's man!
He is stopped in his tracks.
PARRIS: Praise God!
GIRLS: Praise God!
PROCTOR, numbed: Mary, how—?
MARY WARREN: I'll not hang with you! I love God, I love God.
DANFORTH, to Mary: He bid you do the Devil's work?
MARY WARREN, hysterically, indicating Proctor: He come at me by night and every day to sign, to sign, to—
DANFORTH: Sign what?
PARRIS: The Devil's book? He come with a book?
MARY WARREN, hysterically, pointing at Proctor, fearful of him: My name, he want my name. "I'll murder you," he says, "if my wife hangs! We must go and overthrow the court," he says!
Danforth's head jerks toward Proctor, shock and horror in his face.
PROCTOR, turning, appealing to Hale: Mr. Hale!
MARY WARREN, her sobs beginning: He wake me every night, his eyes were like coals and his fingers claw my neck, and I sign, I sign...
HALE: Excellency, this child's gone wild!
PROCTOR, as Danforth's wide eyes pour on him: Mary, Mary!
MARY WARREN, screaming at him: No, I love God; I go your way no more. I love God, I bless God. (Sobbing, she rushes to Abigail.) Abby, Abby, I'll never hurt you more! (They all watch, as Abigail, out of her infinite charity, reaches out and draws the sobbing Mary to her, and then looks up to Danforth.)
DANFORTH, to Proctor: What are you? (Proctor is beyond speech in his anger.) You are combined with anti-Christ, are you not? I have seen your power; you will not deny it! What say you, Mister? (III.496-519)
Though we, the audience, are aware that the categories of “good” and “evil” have gotten terribly mixed up in this play, Mary is faced with a life-or-death situation. If she does what is really “good” she will die by those who hold the power and declare it “not good”; if she does what is wrong—if she lies—she joins those with power who declare that this is, indeed, good.
No wonder many people chose to confess and align with powerful forces. According to the play, young people in particular are susceptible to this weakness.
Quote 11
PROCTOR: Can you speak one minute without we land in Hell again? I am sick of Hell!
PARRIS: It is not for you to say what is good for you to hear!
PROCTOR: I may speak my heart, I think!
[…]
PARRIS, now he's out with it: There is a party in this church. I am not blind; there is a faction and a party.
PROCTOR: Against you?
PUTNAM: Against him and all authority!
PROCTOR: Why, then I must find it and join it.
There is shock among the others.
REBECCA: He does not mean that.
PUTNAM: He confessed it now!
PROCTOR: I mean it solemnly, Rebecca; I like not the smell of this "authority. "
REBECCA: No, you cannot break charity with your minister. You are another kind, John. Clasp his hand, make your peace.
PROCTOR: I have a crop to sow and lumber to drag home. (I.275-277; 278-289)
Parris tries to assert his religious authority over Proctor, but Proctor is uninterested in the minister’s message. Parris suggests that there is a battle going on, a battle of good vs. evil, and that Proctor is on the wrong side. In fact, the battle is more political than religious, with Parris trying to keep a tight grip on his flock.
Quote 12
PROCTOR: I'd have you see some honesty in it. Let them that never lied die now to keep their souls. It is pretense for me, a vanity that will not blind God nor keep my children out of the wind. (Pause.) What say you?
ELIZABETH, upon a heaving sob that always threatens: John, it come to naught that I should forgive you, if you'll not forgive yourself. (Now he turns away a little, in great agony.) It is not my soul, John, it is yours. (He stands, as though in physical pain, slowly rising to his feet with a great immortal longing to find his answer. It is difficult to say, and she is on the verge of tears.) Only be sure of this, for I know it now: Whatever you will do, it is a good man does it. (He turns his doubting, searching gaze upon her.) I have read my heart this three month, John. (Pause.) I have sins of my own to count. It needs a cold wife to prompt lechery.
PROCTOR, in great pain: Enough, enough—
ELIZABETH, now pouring out her heart: Better you should know me!
PROCTOR: I will not hear it! I know you!
ELIZABETH: You take my sins upon you, John—
PROCTOR, in agony: No, I take my own, my own!
ELIZABETH: John, I counted myself so plain, so poorly made, no honest love could come to me! Suspicion kissed you when I did; I never knew how I should say my love. It were a cold house I kept! (In fright, she swerves, as Hathorne enters.)
HATHORNE: What say you, Proctor? The sun is soon up.
Proctor, his chest heaving, stares, turns to Elizabeth. She comes to him as though to plead, her voice quaking.
ELIZABETH: Do what you will. But let none be your judge. There be no higher judge under Heaven than Proctor is! Forgive me, forgive me, John—I never knew such goodness in the world! (She covers her face, weeping.)
Proctor turns from her to Hathorne; he is off the earth, his voice hollow.
PROCTOR: I want my life. (IV.204-214)
Elizabeth’s forgiveness makes John Proctor want to keep on living, even if he must live dishonestly. He decides to confess.