(There is a small grave, sitting in a graveyard on the edge of town. It is in the old 17th Century style of gravestones, marked with a small, sunken face on the top and bordered with an array of designs. It reads: "Here Lyes John Proctor.". ELIZABETH, seven years older, slowly makes her way through the cemetery to kneel in front of John's grave. She does not cry, nor does she lay flowers at the grave. She only stares at it, humming a small lullaby to herself. In her hand she holds a small wooden carving of sorts. Finally, she begins to speak.)


There be seven years passed since I last stood by your side, John. I have found my courage, and a better trade than widow I now learn. Aye, there is still much love in my heart for you. And I mean to love you, John.


"But what of tomorrow," I hear you speak. "What of tomorrow, my Elizabeth. I bid you, will you love me tomorrow when you are another man's wife?"

(A silence creeps upon her)

Aye, John. I shall.

(She takes a moment to collect her thoughts)

I cannot believe our paths were never to cross. Surely there be a reason why you were my husband and I your wife. I were young when we first drew vows from the pulpit. Why, I were but a girl, and you but a few years ahead. I thought not to love you, but I am a good Christian woman and thought marriage a promise. But I think I were a long time cold, and while you were a righteous and good man, I drew anger on you. My house was good, yes. But my heart burned as if it were Hell. I think I did drive you mad.

(Growing more frantic)

Now at night, I wake from a dream that shows not you on the hangman's cart, but I. And I think I hear my voice sound out with nothin' but cries and pleas for mercy. There be no goodness, nor pride nor truth in my words. I speak only a tired prayer to let me be. To let me live. And I think if it were I who gone to the hangman, I would not have hanged.Aye, I think if I were as good as you hath been, this stone would read both our names. But then what of the children.

(She sets the wooden carving on the grave)

Jonathon bid me bring you this. It is a small wood carving he made. He grows to be a fair child of his father's. He is a good boy, John. And I think Daniel means to love him. Why, Daniel shows himself not to be a bad man. He is goodly, and I think he shall take care of your family.

(Looking to the grave as if it has accused her.)

You must understand, I cannot go on through my life alone. While we sat in prison, they came to our house and took everything from us. The courts have ruled, John. And I think they stay their rule. And God forgive me for turning my children to a new father and my cold hands to a new husband. But John, I swear it when I say I love you. I think not on your bewilderments any longer. For you hath found your goodness, and that is all I care for. You were a good man, God knows it. Forsake me not, John. I love you. If only I should kiss you one last time, you should know that my anger hath melted away. Any question of my admiration needn't be preserved. I fell in love with you when you last kissed me.

(Stands, and presses a kiss to the head of the stone. She turns away, but at the last moment gives a final look to her husband.)

Aye, John. I love you.