Act Four
Arthur Miller
The Crucible - Act IV
Three months later, in the fall. A cell in Salem jail. At the back is a high barred window;near it, a great heavy door.Along the walls are two benches. The place in in darkness but for the moonlight seeping through the bars.  It appears empty.  Presently, footsteps are heard coming down a corridor beyond the wall.  Keys rattle, and the door swings open. Herrick enters and clears straw from a bench.

Herrick:  Sarah, wake up!  Sarah Good!

Sarah:  Oh, Majesty!  Comin’, comin’! Tituba, he’s here, His Majesty’s come!

Herrick:  Go to the north cell; this place is wanted now.

Tituba:  That don’t look to me like His Majesty; look to me like the marshal.

Herrick:  Get along with you now, clear this place.

Sarah:  Oh, is it you, Marshal!  I thought sure you be the Devil comin’ for us. Could I have a sip of cider for me goin—away? (he gives her the flask)

Herrick:  And where you off to, Sarah?

Tituba:  We goin’ to Barbados, soon the Devil gits here with the feathers and the wings.

Herrick:  Oh?  A happy voyage to you.
Sarah:  A pair of bluebirds wining’ southerly, the two of us!  Oh, it be a grand transformation, Marshal!

Herrick:  You’d best give me that or you’ll never rise off the ground. Come along now.

Tituba:  I’ll speak to him for you, if you desires to come along, Marshal.

Herrick:  I’d not refuse it, Tituba; it’s the proper morning to fly into Hell.

Tituba:  Oh, it be no Hell in Barbados. Devil, him be pleasure – man in Barbados, him be singin’ and dancin’ in Barbados.  It’s you folks—you riles him up ‘round here; it be too cold ‘round here for that Old Boy. He freeze his soul in Masachusetts, but in Barbados he just as swweet and ---(a cow bellows) Aye, sir!  That’s him, Sarah!

Sarah:  I’m here, Majesty!

[They hurriedly pick up their rags as Hopkins, a guard, enters.]

HOPKINS: The Deputy Governors have arrived.

HERRICK: [grabbing Tituba]. Come along, come along.

TITUBA: [resisting him] No, he comin' for me. I goin' home!

HERRICK [pulling her to the door] That's not Satan, just a poor old cow with a hatful of milk. Come along now, out with you!

TITUBA: [calling to the window] Take me home. Devil! Take me!

SARAH GOOD: [following the shouting tituba out] Tell him I'm goin'. Tituba! Now you tell him. Sarah Good is goin' too!
[In the corridor outside Tituba calls out, "Take me home, Devil; Devil take me home!" and Hopkin’s voice orders her to move on. Herrick
returns and begins to push old rags and straw into a corner. Hearing footsteps, he turns, and enter Danforth and Judge Hathorne. They are in greatcoats and wear hats against the bitter cold. They are followed in by Cheever, who carries a dispatch case and a flat wooden box containing his writing materials.]

HERRICK: Good morning, Excellency.

DANFORTH: Where is Mister Parris?

HERRICK: I‘ll fetch him.

DANFORTH: Marshal. When did Reverend Hale arrive?

HERRICK: It were toward midnight, I think.

DANFORTH: (Suspiciously.) What is he about here?

HERRICK: He goes among them that will hang, sir. And he prays with them. He sits with Goody Nurse now. And Mister Parris with him.

DANFORTH: Indeed. That man have no authority to enter here, Marshal; why have you let him in?

HERRICK: Why, Mister Parris command me, sir. I cannot deny him.

DANFORTH: Fetch Mister Parris.

HERRICK: Aye, sir. (Exits.)

HATHORNE: Let you question Hale, Excellency; I should not be surprised he have been preachin‘ in Andover lately.
DANFORTH: We‘ll come to that; speak nothin‘ of Andover. Parris prays with him. That‘s strange.

HATHORNE: I think sometimes Parris has a mad look these days. (Danforth raises his head as Parris enters. He is gaunt, frightened and sweating.)

PARRIS: (To Danforth, instantly.) Oh, good morning, sir, thank you for comin‘. I beg your pardon wakin‘ you so early. Good morning, Judge Hathorne….

DANFORTH: Reverend Hale has no right to enter this…

PARRIS: Excellency, a moment.

HATHORNE: Do you leave him alone with the prisoners?

DANFORTH: What‘s his business here?

PARRIS: (Prayerfully holding up his hands.) Excellency, hear me. It is a providence. Reverend Hale has returned to bring Rebecca Nurse to God.

DANFORTH: He bids her confess?

PARRIS: Hear me. Rebecca have not given me a word this three months since she came. Now she sits with him, and her sister and Martha Corey and two or three others, and he pleads with them confess their crimes and save their lives.

DANFORTH: Why—this is indeed a providence. And they soften, they soften?

PARRIS: Not yet, not yet. But I thought to summon you, sir, that we might think on whether it be not wise to… there is news, sir, that the court, the court must reckon with. My niece… I believe she has vanished.

DANFORTH: Vanished!

PARRIS: I had thought to advise you of it earlier in the week, but…

DANFORTH: Why?—how long is she gone?

PARRIS: This be the third night—Mercy Lewis is gone, too.

DANFORTH: (Alarmed.) I shall send a party for them. Where may they be?

PARRIS: Excellency, I think they be aboard a ship. My daughter tells me now she hears them speakin‘ of ships last week, and tonight I discover my… my strongbox is broken into.

HATHORNE: (Astonished.) She have robbed you?!

PARRIS: Thirty-one pound is gone. I am penniless.

DANFORTH: Mister Parris, you are a brainless man!

PARRIS: Excellency, it profit nothing you should blame me. I cannot think they would run off except they fear to keep in Salem anymore—since the news of Andover has broken here. The rumor here speaks rebellion in Andover, and it…

DANFORTH: (Strongly protesting.) There is no rebellion in Andover.

PARRIS: I tell you what is said here, sir. Andover have thrown out the court, they say, and will have no part of witchcraft. There be a faction here feeding on that news, and I tell you true, sir, I fear there will be riot here.

HATHORNE: Riot!—Why, at every execution I have seen naught but high satisfaction in the town.

PARRIS: Judge Hathorne—it were another sort that hanged till now. Rebecca Nurse is no Bridget Bishop that lived three year with Bishop before she married him. John Proctor is not Isaac Ward that drank his family to ruin. (To Danforth.) Let Rebecca stand upon the gibbet and send up some righteous prayer, and I feel she‘ll wake a vengeance on you.

DANFORTH: How do you propose, then?

PARRIS: Excellency… I would postpone these hangin‘s for a time.

DANFORTH: There will be no postponement.

PARRIS: Now Mister Hale‘s returned, there is hope, I think—for if he bring even one of these to God, that confession surely damns the others in the public eye, and none may doubt more that they are all linked to Hell. This way, unconfessed and claiming innocence, doubts are multiplied, may honest people will weep for them, and our good purpose is lost in their tears.

DANFORTH: Cheever, give me the list. (Cheever opens dispatch case, searches.)

PARRIS: It cannot be forgot, sir, that when I summoned the congregation for John Proctor‘s excommunication, there were hardly thirty people come to hear it. That speak a discontent, I think, and…

DANFORTH: There will be no postponement.

PARRIS: Excellency…

DANFORTH: Now, sir—which of these in your opinion may be brought to God? I will myself strive with him till dawn.

PARRIS: (In a quavering voice, quietly.) Excellency… a dagger… (He chokes up.) DANFORTH: (Irritated.) What do you say?

PARRIS: Tonight, when I open my door to leave my house—a dagger clattered to the ground. You cannot hang this sort. There is danger for me. I dare not step outside at night. (Hale ENTERS. They look at him for an instant in silence. He is steeped in sorrow, exhausted, and more direct than he ever was.)

DANFORTH: Accept my congratulations, Reverend Hale; we are gladdened to see you returned to your good work.

HALE: You must pardon them. They will not budge. The sun will rise in a few minutes. Excellency, I must have more time.

DANFORTH: Now hear me, and beguile yourselves no more. I will not receive a single plea for pardon or postponement. Them that will not confess will hang. Twelve are already executed; the names of these seven are given out, and the village expects to see them die at dawn. Postponement, now, speaks a… a floundering on my part; reprieve or pardon must cast doubt upon the guilt of them that died till now.—Have you spoken with them all, Mister Hale?

HALE: All but Proctor. He is in the dungeon.

DANFORTH: (To Hathorne.) What‘s Proctor‘s way now?

HERRICK: (In doorway. Drunkenly.) He sits like some great bird; you‘d not know he lived except he will take food from time to time.

DANFORTH: His wife… his wife must be well on with child now.

HERRICK: She is, sir.

DANFORTH: What think you, Mister Parris?—You have closer knowledge of this man; might her presence soften him?

PARRIS: It is possible, sir—he have not laid eyes on her these three months. I should summon her.

DANFORTH: (To Herrick.) Fetch Goody Proctor to me. Then let you bring him up.

HERRICK: Ay, sir. (Herrick goes out. Silence.)

HALE: Excellency, if you postpone a week, and publish to the town that you are striving for their confessions, that speak mercy on your part, not faltering.

DANFORTH: Mister Hale, as God have not empowered me like Joshua to stop this sun from rising, so I cannot withhold from them the perfection of their punishment.

HALE: If you think God wills you to raise rebellion, Mister Danforth, you are mistaken.

DANFORTH: You have heard rebellion spoken in Salem?

HALE: Excellency, there are orphans wandering from house to house; abandoned cattle below on the highroads, the stink of rotting crops hang everywhere, and no man knows when the harlots‘ cry will end his life—and you wonder yet if rebellion‘s spoke? Better you should marvel how they do not burn your province!

DANFORTH: Mister Hale, have you preached in Andover this month?

HALE: Thank God they have no need of me in Andover.

DANFORTH: You baffle me, sir. Why have you returned here?

HALE: Why, it is all simple. I come to do the Devil‘s work. I come to counsel Christians they should belie themselves. There is blood on my head! Can you not see the blood on my head!!

PARRIS: Hush! (All face entrance. Herrick and Elizabeth ENTER. Herrick goes out again.)

DANFORTH: (Very politely.) Goody Proctor. I hope you are hearty?

ELIZABETH: I am yet six month before my time.

DANFORTH: Pray, be at your ease, we come not for your life. We… (Uncertain how to plead, for he is not accustomed to it.) Mister Hale, will you speak with the woman?

HALE: Goody Proctor, your husband is marked to hang this morning.

ELIZABETH: (Quietly.) I have heard it.

HALE: (He finds it difficult to look at her.) You know, do you not, that I have no connection with the court? I come of my own, Goody Proctor. (She knows this to be untrue.) I would save your husband‘s life, for if he is taken I count myself his murderer. Do you understand me?

ELIZABETH: What do you want of me?

HALE: Goody Proctor… I have gone this three month like our Lord into the wilderness. I have sought a Christian way, for damnation‘s doubled on a minister who counsels men to lie.

HATHORNE: It is no lie, you cannot speak of lies….

HALE: It is a lie!—they are innocent!

DANFORTH: No more. No more. I‘ll hear no more of that.

HALE: (To Elizabeth.) Life, woman, life is God‘s most precious gift; no principle however glorious may justify the taking of it. I beg you, woman—prevail upon your husband to confess. Let him give his lie. Quail not before God‘s judgment in this, for it may well be God damns a liar less than he that throws his life away for pride. Will you plead with him? I cannot think he will listen to another.

ELIZABETH: (Quietly. With loathing.) I think that be the Devil‘s argument.

DANFORTH: (Irritated.) Goody Proctor, you are not summoned here for disputation—be there no wifely tenderness within you? He will die with the sunrise. Your husband. Do you understand it? What say you? Will you contend with him? (She is silent.) Take her out—it profit nothing she should speak to him!

ELIZABETH: (Quietly.) Let me speak with him, Excellency.

DANFORTH: Will you plead for his confession, or will you not!

ELIZABETH: I promise nothing. Let me speak with him. (A sound—the sibilance of dragging feet on stone. They turn. Pause. Herrick enters with Proctor. His wrists are chained. Herrick removes them and exits. He is another man, bearded, filthy, his eyes misty as webs had overgrown them. Halts inside doorway, his eye caught by the sight of Elizabeth. The emotion flowing between them prevents anyone from speaking for an instant. Hale looks up stage. Proctor crosses down slowly toward Elizabeth, looks around, then Hale speaks.)

HALE: Pray, leave them, Excellency. (Exits.)

DANFORTH: (Parris and Cheever rise.) I see light in the sky, Mister; let you counsel with your wife and may God help you turn your back on hell. (Proctor is silent, staring at Elizabeth. Danforth exits. Cheever follows, then Hathorne and Parris. Proctor and Elizabeth move together, clasp hands.)

ELIZABETH: You have been chained?

PROCTOR: (Feeling his wrists.) Aye. The child?

ELIZABETH: It grows.

PROCTOR: You are a… marvel, Elizabeth. They come for my life now.

ELIZABETH: I know it.

PROCTOR: None… have yet confessed?

ELIZABETH: There be many confessed.

PROCTOR: Rebecca…?

ELIZABETH: Not Rebecca. (He smiles slightly in admiration, nodding. She then speaks.) She is one foot in heaven now. Naught may hurt her more.

PROCTOR: And Giles?

ELIZABETH: Giles is dead.

PROCTOR: (He looks at her incredulously.) When were he hanged?

ELIZABETH: (Quietly, factually.) He were not hanged. He would not answer ay or nay to his indictment; for if he denied the charge they‘d hang him surely, and auction out his property. So he stand mute, and died Christian under the law. (He nods.)

PROCTOR: (Not looking at her.) Then how does he die?

ELIZABETH: (Gently.) …They press him, John.

PROCTOR: (Looking at her.) Press?

ELIZABETH: Great stones they lay upon his chest until he plead ay or nay. (With a tender smile for the old man.) They say he give them but two words. ―More weight,‖ he says. And died.

PROCTOR: (Nodding, smiling grimly in admiration.) More weight!

ELIZABETH: Ay. It were a fearsome man, Giles Corey. (Pause.)

PROCTOR: (With a shy smile. Elizabeth crossing to end of bench, sits.) I have been thinkin‘ I would confess to them. (She shows nothing. He takes her hand, pulls her down to bench, not looking at her.) What would you have me do?

ELIZABETH: As you will, I would have it. (Slight pause.) I want you living, John. That‘s sure.

PROCTOR: (Taking his hand away from her.) It is a pretense, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: What is?

PROCTOR: (Trying to convince himself.) I cannot mount the gibbet like a saint. It is a fraud. I am not that man. (She is silent.) My honesty is broke, Elizabeth, I am no good man. Nothing‘s spoiled by giving them this lie that were not rotten long before.

ELIZABETH: And yet you‘ve not confessed till now. That speak goodness in you.

PROCTOR: (Bitterly smiling.) Spite. Spite only keeps me silent. It is hard to give a lie to dogs! (He takes her hand, holds it.) I would have your forgiveness, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: John… it come to naught that I should forgive you. Will you forgive yourself? It is your soul, John. (He bows his head.) Only be sure of this, for I know it now: Whatever you will do, it is a good man does it. (Hathorne enters.)

HATHORNE: What say you, Proctor? The sun is soon up. (Proctor lifts his head.)

ELIZABETH: (Warmly.) Do what you will. But let none by you judge, there be no higher judge under heaven than Proctor is! Forgive me, forgive me, John—I never knew such goodness in the world!

PROCTOR: I want my life.

HATHORNE: You‘ll confess yourself?!

PROCTOR: I will have my lie.

HATHORNE: God be praised!—It is a providence! (Hathorne rushes out door, his voice is heard calling offstage.) He will confess! Proctor will confess!

PROCTOR: (With a cry, rising.) Why do you cry it! It is evil, is it not? It is evil.

ELIZABETH: (Weeping) I cannot judge you, John, I cannot!

PROCTOR: Then who will judge me? God in Heaven, what is John Proctor, what is
John Proctor! (A fury is riding in him, a tantalized search.) I think it is honest, I think so: I am no saint. Let Rebecca go like a saint, for me it is fraud!

ELIZABETH: I am not your judge, I cannot be..

PROCTOR: Would you give them such a lie? Say it. Would you ever give them this? (She can‘t answer.) You would not; if tongs of fire were singeing you, you would not! – it is evil. (Slight pause. Sitting.) Good then, it is evil, and I do it. (Hathorne enters with Danforth, and with them Cheever, Parris and Hale. It is a business-like, rapid entrance, as though the ice had been broken.)

DANFORTH: Praise to God, man, you shall be blessed in Heaven for this. (Cheever hurries to prepare to write.) Now then, let us have it. Are you ready, Mister Cheever?

PROCTOR: Why must it be written?

DANFORTH: Why, for the good instruction of the village, Mister; this we shall post upon the church door! Now, then, Mister, will you speak slowly, and directly to the point for Mister Cheever‘s sake? Mister Proctor, have you seen the Devil in your life? Come, man, there is light in the sky; the town waits at the scaffold, I would give out this news. Did you see the devil?

PROCTOR: (Looks at him, then away, and speaks.) I did.

PARRIS: Praise God!

DANFORTH: And when he come to you, what were his demand? Did he bid you to do his work upon the earth?

PROCTOR: He did.

DANFORTH: And you bound yourself to his service (Danforth turns, as Rebecca and Herrick enter.) Ah, Rebecca Nurse. – Come in, come in, woman.

REBECCA: Ah, John! You are well, then , eh?

DANFORTH: Courage, man, courage—let her witness your good example that she may come to God herself. Now hear it, Goody Nurse! Say on, Mister Proctor—did you bind yourself to the Devil‘s service?

REBECCA: Why, John!

PROCTOR: (Face turned from Rebecca.) I did.

DANFORTH: Now, woman, you surely see it profit nothin‘ to keep this conspiracy any further. Will you confess yourself with him?

REBECCA: Oh, John—God send His mercy on you!

PROCTOR: Take her out!

DANFORTH: I say will you confess yourself, Goody Nurse!

REBECCA: Why, it is lie, it is a lie; how may I damn myself? I cannot.

DANFORTH: Mister Proctor. When the Devil came to you did you see Rebecca Nurse in his company? Come, man, take courage—did you ever see her with the Devil?

PROCTOR: (Almost inaudibly, in agony.) No. (Rebecca takes a step toward him.)

DANFORTH: Did you ever see anyone with the devil?

PROCTOR: I did not.

DANFORTH: Proctor, you mistake me. I am not empowered to trade your life for a lie. You have most certainly seen some person with the Devil. Mister Proctor, a score of people have already testified they saw this woman with the devil…

PROCTOR: I speak my own sins, I cannot judge another.

HALE: Excellency, it is enough he confess himself. Let him sign it..

PARRIS: It is a great service, sir—it is a weighty name, it will strike the village that he confess. I beg you, let him sign it. The sun is up, Excellency!

DANFORTH: Come then, sign your testimony.

PROCTOR: You have all witnessed it—it is enough.

DANFORTH: You will not sign it?

PROCTOR: You have all witnessed it; what more is needed?

DANFORTH: Do you sport with me? You will sign your name or it is no confession, Mister! (Proctor signs) Your second name, man (Proctor signs his last name.)

PARRIS: Praise be to the Lord!

DANFORTH: (Perplexed, but politely extending his hand.) If you please, sir.

PROCTOR: (Dumbly, looking at paper.) No.

DANFORTH: Mister Proctor, I must have…

PROCTOR: (Putting paper behind him. Childishly befuddled.) No—no I have signed it. You have seen me. It is done! You have no need for this.

PARRIS: Proctor, the village must have proof that…

PROCTOR: Damn the village! I confess to God and God has seen my name on this! It is enough!

DANFORTH: No, sir, it is…

PROCTOR: You came to save my soul, did you not? Here—I have confessed myself, it is enough!

DANFORTH: You have not con…

PROCTOR: I have confessed myself! Is there no good penitence but it be public? God does not need my name nailed upon the church! God sees my name, God knows how black my sins are! It is enough.

DANFORTH: Mister Proctor…

PROCTOR: You will not use me! I am no Sarah Good or Tituba, I am John Proctor! You will not use me!

DANFORTH: I do not wish to…

PROCTOR: I have three children—how may I teach them to walk like men in the world and I sold my friends?

DANFORTH: You have not sold your friends…

PROCTOR: I blacken all of them when this is nailed to the church the very day they hang for silence!

DANFORTH: Mister Proctor, I must have good and legal proof that you…

PROCTOR: You are the high court, your word is good enough! Tell them I confessed myself, say Proctor broke his knees and wept like a woman, say what you will, but my name cannot…

DANFORTH: (With suspicion) It is the same, is it not? If I report it or you sign to it?

PROCTOR: No, it is not the same! What others say and what I sign to is not the same!

DANFORTH: Why? Do you mean to deny this confession when you are free?

PROCTOR: I mean to deny nothing!

DANFORTH: Then explain to me, Mr. Proctor, why you will not let…

PROCTOR: Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life. Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul, leave me my name!

DANFORTH: Is that document a lie? If it is a lie I will not accept it! You will give me hour honest confession in my hand, or I cannot keep you from the rope.

PARRIS: Proctor, Proctor!

HALE: Man, you will hang— you cannot!

PROCTOR: (Crossing slowly to Elizabeth, takes her hand for a moment.) Pray God it speak some goodness for me. (They embrace. He then holds her at arm‘s length.) Give them no tear. Show them a heart of stone and sink them with it.

REBECCA: Let you fear nothing. There is another judgment waits us all.

DANFORTH: Whoever weeps for these weeps for corruption. Take them!

PARRIS: Go to him. (Drum roll) Goody Proctor! There is yet time! (Parris runs out as though to hold back his fate.) Proctor! Proctor!

(Elizabeth crosses to window.)

HALE: Woman, plead with him! (Drum roll. Elizabeth avoids his eyes.) It is pride, it is vanity. Be his helper! –what profit him to bleed? Shall the dust praise him? Shall the worms declare his truth? Go to him, take his shame away.

ELIZABETH: (Firmly, bitterly with triumph.) He have his goodness now. God forbid I take it from him. (The drum roll heightens violently. Three seconds then.. )

THE CURTAIN FALLS
Write the lyrics for a misc song made in 1953, titled "Act Four", by artist "Arthur Miller".