This scene is a contrast to the earlier scene where Elizabeth and Proctor are again being extremely careful as to what they are saying to each other, but for different reasons. Here, it is obvious that they care very much for each other, and may be afraid of saying that out loud, but the previous scene is filled with tension as we wonder whether they are going to have an argument over Abigail or not. This is ironic, because Abigail is actually responsible for the tension in both these scenes. The first, Elizabeth is angry with John and Abigail for having an affair and the second, she has caused their separation by accusing Elizabeth of witchcraft.
However, the moments of stilted speech soon dissipate with time, but the situation does not become any less tense. As they start to talk more, the topic of conversation unavoidably turns to the affairs in Salem which has led to this situation; the trials. The most noticeable thing during this next part is the sheer force of Elizabeth's character. Even when she 'catches a weakening in herself', she 'downs it', showing that she can overcome her emotions to still function properly to state things 'quietly, factually,' without bursting into wails or tears. When she learns that her husband has been tortured, there is a pause but still Elizabeth 'will not ... be drowned in the sea that threatens her,' showing her defiance against giving into what she wants for what she believes she can do to help other people. The language there is powerful and makes the reader feel that she must be as a rock to withstand what she does.
From the night which Elizabeth was first arrested, we can see the subtle strength of her character shining through as she hides her feelings in order to organise what things ought to be done around the house and how the children must be taken care of and also later lying for Proctor in order to try and save him which again, shows how deep her love for him is to commit a sin in order that he might be free. We also feel that in this scene we get to know Elizabeth much more, as she starts to talk about herself much more frankly. We admire her for being a woman who can analyse herself and tell other people what is wrong with herself. However, we also empathise with Elizabeth as we can identify with the feeling that other people are better than us, that we are 'so plain, so poorly made', so we find it hard even then to find fault with the fact that Elizabeth was enough of a 'cold wife to prompt lechery'. We also think that Elizabeth could not possibly be intentionally cold towards Proctor, but was only so because she knew not how to express herself without breaking the strict Puritan rules of that time. Overall, our respect for her increases in this scene as Elizabeth not only controls only her own overwhelming emotions, but deals very realistically with the situation at hand and finds the strength to encourage Proctor and back him up by saying that 'Whatever [he] will do, it is a good man does it.'
In contrast to this complete selflessness, our respect for John Proctor decreases slightly, as he reveals that he means to confess and therefore save himself. The stage directions show that he is 'numbed' by the news of Giles Corey only asking for 'more weight', as it is 'a thread to weave into his agony' since he will now be compared to this martyr who died painfully rather than give in, and his name and reputation mean a great deal to him. John knows that what he wants to do is wrong, and we are relieved to know that he feels enough shame to be 'not quite looking' at Elizabeth, as if afraid of what he might see in her expression. Everything Proctor does indicates that he knows that what he is doing 'is evil' as he does not want Hathorne to 'cry out' the fact and let everyone know, and even though he knows that it is wrong, he cannot face the prospect of being hung.
We also appreciate that Proctor's decision is a life or death decision, and that even telling his wife causes him a 'great force of will', yet we still judge him as selfish, like many of the characters in the book. We frown upon Proctor for feeling a 'flail of hope' as he asks if Goody Corey has confessed, as we think that it is wrong for him to hope that another who is influential has confessed and committed a sin just so that he might not be the only one who will have shame over his name. The repetition of the word 'agony' in Proctor's stage directions emphasise to us just how hard it is for him to confess and live with the guilt of doing such a thing when many others died for it. On the other hand, we feel consoled somewhat that in giving his soul away and yet receiving his life, Proctor would be able to live and take care of Elizabeth and their children, rather than die and leave them alone. Although we know that what Proctor wants to do is morally wrong, we are moved by how much he has endured so far, and cannot fully blame him for wanting to do so.
However, as we reach the climax of Elizabeth's speech, when she admits openly for the first time in the play that she loves Proctor, we are not allowed to see what his reaction is, as they are interrupted when Hathorne enters. We feel somewhat indignant, as the couple have endured so much, yet there has not been a romantic or passionate scene with the two. We are also annoyed at Hathorne for interrupting as such a crucial point, even though he could not possibly know that that was when he entered. We start to feel sorry for Elizabeth, as she obviously both wants John alive to be with her, and dead in order to do the right thing. When he tells Hathorne that he wants to confess, Proctor does so in a 'hollow' voice, for he is 'off the earth' and knows that he is condemning himself at the same time as saving himself.
Several ongoing themes throughout the entire play are shown quite well in this scene. There is the basic theme of selfishness, that all human beings are essentially selfish, as they do what they want as opposed to what is right, breaking the rules of society back then. This is what the entire play started off with; a bout of selfishness on the part of the girls dancing in the woods, which was frowned upon then although not any more. Proctor is giving into what he wants, even though he is pressurised greatly by the fact that it is wrong. However, Elizabeth, being the other main character, is the source of the other theme, which is selflessness. Elizabeth along with people like Rebecca Nurse and Giles Corey emanate selflessness and it is accentuated even more as they can be contrasted with people like Parris and Abigail who do things only to benefit themselves. It is ironic that Abigail, who first started the outcry on witches in order to have her way and gain Proctor back ends up not only causing the devastation of Salem and the execution of many people, but also loses Proctor even as she tries to win him back, letting him realise how vicious she really is and leads to Elizabeth and Proctor finally realising how much they love each other. The fact that the Proctors portray a theme each which are opposite to each other is interesting too, but they seem to counteract the other and therefore the arrangement works; Elizabeth lets Proctor do whatever he wants in the hope that he will be happy and that she is not a hindrance to his happiness, as she tries to convince him to have confidence in himself, whatever he chooses, and he in return thinks greatly of her opinion as she does not force it upon him.
The scene I have chosen produces a highly emotional piece of drama which catches and keeps both the reader and audience's attention. The stage directions emphasise to the reader how deep the emotions are, some which cannot be displayed with the same intensity as in drama, yet there is a lot of space for much drama in the acting to create dramatic gestures and effects with which to capture the audience's interest too. The underlying threat that the characters must lie or be seen as with Satan is ironic and would seem to a modern audience as a ridiculous and frustrating situation, but the audience in the time that Miller wrote 'The Crucible' would be able to relate to it and share the characters' pain much more than we can now, as they would have just lived through McCarthyism themselves, which makes it all the more compelling to the audience this was aimed at.
The stage directions also contribute much more than simply emotions. Miller has quite detailed stage directions, and some of the effects a reader receives cannot be conveyed over acting in the same way as when one reads it. Some directions are short and snappy to draw attention to them and create impact. The start of my scene begins with 'A sound – the sibilance of dragging feet on stone.' Sibilance is onomatopoeia, which can not be shown through the acting. 'A sound' is a fragment, short, sudden and dramatic. Also, there is no acting during this point. One has to imagine what is happening, as there is something scraping a sound off of the stage, unseen, before John Proctor is revealed, looking bedraggled and completely different to the last we saw or read of him. There are also areas of vivid description in the stage directions, Proctor's eyes being 'misty as though webs had grown there' and 'they stood in a spinning world' which use similes and imagery to provoke emotion for the characters rather than an action. While the stage directions cannot always be translated directly onto the stage, they are still highly dramatic themselves and enhance the reading of the play much more and gives us a deeper understanding of what the characters are enduring.
Overall, while there are many other scenes which are also compelling such as when Elizabeth is arrested, when Elizabeth denies the charge of lechery against Proctor, the scene with Abigail's yellow bird and the ending of the play, I feel that this is a small part of a scene which might get overlooked as a choice for the most compelling scene, yet I still think that it is. This is the first scene where Elizabeth openly tells Proctor directly that she loves him, and also a crucial point for what Proctor decides. It is as though in this scene, Proctor wishes Elizabeth to either tell him that he is condemning himself and confirm what he thinks, or to persuade him out of giving in. It is also the scene in which we hear about Giles Corey's death, and although he is not a main character, I think that each death that Proctor hears about, each death of people he knows and respects contributes to his final decision. It is not only the significance to the plot which leads me to think that scene is the most compelling, but also the intensity of John and Elizabeth Proctor's feelings, which are never portrayed anywhere else, as strong emotions in public were frowned upon by the Puritans. They are both strong characters, but in different ways; Elizabeth seems to be the redeeming light for the selfishness and deceit in Salem as she does what helps others and is right even though at risk of being hurt herself and Proctor is strong enough to have not confessed until now, even though he claims that 'spite only keeps [him] silent'. It is the addition to the plot that this scene brings, the revelation of the sheer depth of Proctor and Elizabeth's characters, the frank verity with which they speak to each other and the fact that the scene remains unfinished and unheard by any other characters gives me the basis of my argument that this scene is the most compelling in the play 'The Crucible'.
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