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Текст на Статията

  • What’s this mischief here?The road past my house is a pilgrimage to Salem allmorning. The town’s mumbling witchcraft.
  • Gah! I’d almost forgot how strong you are, John Proctor!Oh, she’s only gone silly somehow
  • Then you saw him! TITUBA weeps. Now Tituba, I know that when we bind ourselves to Hell it is very hard to break with it.Who?.
  • : Mister Reverend, I dobelieve somebody else be witchin’ these children.: I don’t know, sir, but the Devil got him numerous witches.
  • I never sold myself! I’m a good girl! I’m a proper girl!She made me do it! She made Betty do it!: She makes me drink blood!
  • No more! I should have roared you down when firstyou told me your suspicion. But I wilted, and, like a Christian,I confessed. Confessed! Some dream I had must have mistakenyou for God that day. But you’re not, you’re not, and let youremember it! Let you look sometimes for the goodness in me,and judge me not.
  • What keeps you so late? It’s almost dark.I do not judge you. The magistrate sits in your heartthat judges you. I never thought you but a good man, John—
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