Proctor: It is a whore! Danforth: You charge! Abigail: Mr. Danforth, he is lying!
Proctor: Mark her! Now she'll suck a scream to stab me with but— Danforth: You will prove this! This will not pass!
Proctor: I have known her, sir. I have known her. Danforth: You—you are a lecher? Francis: John, you cannot say such a Proctor: Oh, Francis, I wish you had some evil in you that you might know me. A man will not cast away his good name. You surely know that.
Danforth: In—in what time? In what place?PROCTOR: In the proper place—where my beasts are bedded. On the last night of my joy, some eight months past. She used to serve me in my house, sir. A man may think God sleeps, but God sees everything, I know it now. I beg you, sir, I beg you—see her what she is. My wife, my dear good wife, took this girl soon after, sir, and put her out on the highroad. And being what she is, a lump of vanity, sir Excellency, forgive me, forgive me. She thinks to dance with me on my wife's grave! And well she might, for I thought of her softly. God help me, I lusted, and there is a promise in such sweat. But it is a whore's vengeance, and you must see it now.