The Crucible – Elizabeth Proctor’s Monologue
It is night outside. The town’s marshal, Herrick, leads Elizabeth Proctor through a dilapidated corridor in Salem’s jails. Thick, heavy chains link Elizabeth’s hand together, yet she walks with her head held high. Other accused sit forlornly in their own cells; barely looking up as Herrick and Elizabeth pass. The pair halts outside an empty cell and wordlessly motions for Elizabeth to enter. Shutting the cell door and locking it, Herrick leaves down the same passageway.
This is what I’ve been reduced to; confined to this squalid cell that is nothing more than four dank, rock-hewn walls and a grime-covered floor. And…is that excrement? I cannot bear the though of spending longer than a day in this
It is night outside. The town’s marshal, Herrick, leads Elizabeth Proctor through a dilapidated corridor in Salem’s jails. Thick, heavy chains link Elizabeth’s hand together, yet she walks with her head held high. Other accused sit forlornly in their own cells; barely looking up as Herrick and Elizabeth pass. The pair halts outside an empty cell and wordlessly motions for Elizabeth to enter. Shutting the cell door and locking it, Herrick leaves down the same passageway.
This is what I’ve been reduced to; confined to this squalid cell that is nothing more than four dank, rock-hewn walls and a grime-covered floor. And…is that excrement? I cannot bear the though of spending longer than a day in this