Abigail Williams Line - 2.1

I must speak with you, Abigail. Will you sit?

How do you come?

Friendly.

I don’t like the woods at night. Pray you, stand closer. I knew it must be you. When I heard the pebbles on the window, before I opened up my eyes I knew. I thought you would come a good time sooner.

I had thought to come many times.

Why didn’t you? I am so alone in the world now.

Are you! I’ve heard that people ride a hundred mile to see your face these days.

Aye, my face. Can you see my face?

Then you’re troubled.

Have you come to mock me?

No, no, but I hear only that you go to the tavern every night, and play shovelboard with the Deputy Governor, and they give you cider.

I have once or twice played the shovelboard. But I have no joy in it.

This is a surprise, Abby. I’d thought to find you gayer than this. I’m told a troop of boys go step for step with you wherever you walk these days.

Aye, they do. But I have only lewd looks from the boys.

And you like that not?

I cannot bear lewd looks no more, John. My spirit’s changed entirely. I ought to be given Godly looks when I suffer for them as I do.

Oh, How do you suffer, Abby?

Why look at my leg. I’m holes all over from their damned needles and pins. The jab your wife gave me’s not yet healed, you know.

Oh, it isn’t

And George Jacobs—he comes again and again and raps me with his stick—the same spot every night all this week. Look at the lump i have.

Abby - George Jacobs is in the jail all this month.

Thank God he is. And bless the day he hangs and lets me sleep in peace again. Oh John, the world’s so full of hypocrites. They pray in jail! I’m told they all pray in jail.

They may not pray?

And torture me in my bed while sacred words are comin’ from their mouths. Oh, it will need God himself to cleanse this town properly.

Abby—You mean to cry out others still?

If I live, if I am not murdered, I surely will until the last hypocrite.

Then there is no one good?

Aye, there is one. You are good

Am I?! How are I good?

Why, you taught me goodness, therefore you are good. It were a fire you walked me through and it burned my ignorance away. It were a fire, John, we lay in fire. And from that night no woman dared call me wicked anymore but I knew my answer. I used to weep for my sins when the winds lifted up my skirt, or blushed for shame when some Old Rebecca called me loose. And you burned my ignorance away. As bare as some December trees, I saw them all. Walking like saints to church, running to feed the sick, and hypocrites in their hearts! And God gave me the strength to call them liars, and God made men to listen to me, and by God, I will scrub this world clean for the love of him. Oh John, I will make you such a wife when the world is white again. You will be amazed to see me, a light of heaven in your house…why are you so cold?

My wife goes to trial in the morning, Abby.

Your wife?

Surely you knew of it

I do remember it now. How-How-Is she well?

As well as she may be, 36 days in that place.

You said you came friendly.

She will not be condemned, Abby!

You brought me from my bed to speak of her.

I come to tell you Abby, what I will do tomorrow in the court. I would not take you by surprise, but give you all the good time to think on what to do to save yourself.

Save myself.

If you do not free my wife tomorrow, I am set and bound to ruin you.

How-ruin me?

I have rocky proof in documents that you knew that poppet were none of my wife’s; and that you yourself bade Mary Warren stab that needle into it.

I bade Mary Warren

You know what you do, you are not so mad.

Oh hypocrites, have you won him too? Why do you let them send you?

I warn you Abby!

They send you! They steal your honesty-

I have found my honesty!

No, this is your wife pleading. Your sniveling, envious wife. This is Rebecca’s voice, this is Martha Corey’s voice. You were no hypocrite.

I will prove you for the fraud you are!

And if they ask you why Abigail would ever do so murderous a deed, what will you tell them?

I will tell them why

What will you tell? You will confess to fornication? In the court?

You will tell the court you are blind to spirits; you cannot see them any more, and you will never cry witchery again, or I will make you famous for the whore you are!

Never in this world! I know you, John— At this moment, you are singing secret hallejuahs your wife will hang!

You mad, you murderous bitch!

Oh how hard it is when pretense falls. But it falls, it falls. You have done your duty by her. I hope it is your last hypocrisy. I pray you will come again with sweeter news for me. I know you will- now that your duty’s done. Good night, John. Fear naught, I will save you tomorrow. From yourself, I will save you.