Today in Salem: The maid Mary Warren winces as her master, the harsh John Proctor, waves hot fire tongs at her. Mary has been half-dazed all day, tormented by unseen specters.
“Go ahead!” he shouts. “Run into that fire, throw yourself into water, and I won’t stop you! You say you’re afflicted – I wish you were even more so.”
“Why would you say that?” Mary asks, still cringing.
“Because you’re lying. All of you,” he says. “You’re accusing innocent people, and I won’t stand for it.”
John’s quarrelsome wife Elizabeth refills the wool basket and puts Mary hard to work at the spinning wheel. It isn’t long before Mary says she’s feeling much better, that the specters have left her entirely alone. Finally, she can breathe.
After supper Mary rides a mile and a half to the Meeting House and tacks a note on the door, thanking God for deliverance from afflictions. It’s a common practice, and tomorrow Rev Parris will read the note to the congregation. But when Mary returns, it’s Elizabeth who’s angry this time.
“How can you thank God for delivering you from something that never existed?” she asks. “You are telling lie upon lie!”
Tomorrow in Salem: The servant Mary Warren says the afflicted girls are lying