The Crucible by Arthur Miller

Open yourself, Tituba—open yourself and let God’s holy light shine on you.
    TITUBA: Oh, bless the Lord.
    HALE: When the Devil comes to you does he ever come—with another person? She stares up into his face. Perhaps another person in the village? Someone you know.
    PARRIS: Who came with him?
    PUTNAM : Sarah Good? Did you ever see Sarah Good with him? Or Osburn?
    PARRIS: Was it man or woman came with him?
    TITUBA: Man or woman. Was—was woman.
    PARRIS: What woman? A woman, you said. What woman?
    TITUBA: It was black dark, and I—
    PARRIS: You could see him, why could you not see her?
    TITUBA: Well, they was always talking; they was always runnin’ round and carryin’ on—
    PARRIS: You mean out of Salem? Salem witches?
    TITUBA: I believe so, yes, sir.
    Now Hale takes her hand. She is surprised.
    HALE: Tituba. You must have no fear to tell us who they are, do you understand? We will protect you. The Devil can never overcome a minister. You know that, do you not?
    TITUBA-She kisses Hale’s hand: Aye, sir, oh, I do.
    HALE: You have confessed yourself to witchcraft, and that speaks a wish to come to Heaven’s side. And we will bless you, Tituba.
    TITUBA, deeply relieved: Oh, God bless you, Mr. Hale!
    HALE, with rising exaltation: You are God’s instrument put in our hands to discover the Devil’s agents among us. You are selected, Tituba, you are chosen to help us cleanse our village. So speak utterly, Tituba, turn your back on him and face God—face God, Tituba, and God will protect you.
    TITUBA, joining with him: Oh, God, protect Tituba!
    HALE, kindly: Who came to you with the Devil? Two? Three? Four? How many?
    Tituba pants and begins rocking back and forth again, staring ahead.
    TITUBA: There was four. There was four.
    PARRIS, pressing in on her: Who? Who? Their names, their names!
    TITUBA, suddenly bursting out: Oh, how many times he bid me kill you, Mr. Parris!
    PARRIS: Kill me!
    TITUBA, in a fury: He say Mr. Parris must be kill! Mr. Parris no goodly man, Mr. Parris mean man and no gentle man, and he bid me rise out of my bed and cut your throat! They gasp. But I tell him “No! I don’t hate that man. I don’t want kill that man.” But he say, “You work for me, Tituba, and I make you free! I give you pretty dress to wear, and put you way high up in the air, and you gone fly back to Barbados!” And I say, “You lie, Devil, you lie!” And then he come one stormy night to me, and he say, “Look! I have white people belong to me.” And I look—and there was Goody Good.
    PARRIS: Sarah Good!
    TITUBA, rocking and weeping: Aye, sir, and Goody Osburn.
    MRS. PUTNAM: I knew it! Goody Osburn were midwife to me three times. I begged you, Thomas, did I not? I begged him not to call Osburn because I feared her. My babies always shriveled in her hands!
    HALE: Take courage, you must give us all their names. How can you bear to see this child suffering? Look at her, Tituba. He is indicating Betty on the bed. Look at her God-given innocence; her soul is so tender; we must protect her, Tituba; the Devil is out and preying on her like a beast upon the flesh of the pure lamb. God will bless you for your help.
    Abigail rises, staring as though inspired, and cries out.
    ABIGAIL: I want to open myself! They turn to her, startled. She is enraptured, as though in a pearly light. I want the light of God, I want the sweet love of Jesus! I danced for the Devil; I saw him; I wrote in his book; I go back to Jesus; I kiss His hand. I saw Sarah Good with the Devil! I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil! I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!
    As she is speaking, Betty is rising from the bed, a fever in her eyes, and picks up the chant.
    BETTY, staring too: I saw George Jacobs with the Devil! I saw Goody Howe with the Devil!
    PARRIS: She speaks! He rushes to embrace Betty. She speaks!
    HALE: Glory to God! It is broken, they are free!
    BETTY, calling out hysterically and with great relief: I saw Martha Bellows with the Devil!
    ABIGAIL: I saw