Proctor: Ah, you're wicked yet, aren't ye! You'll be clapped in the stocks before you're twenty.
Abigail: Give me a word, John. A soft word.
Proctor: No, no, Abby. That's done with.
Abigail: You come five mile to see a silly girl fly? I know you better.
Proctor: I come to see what mischief your uncle's brewin' now. Put it out of mind, Abby.
Abigail: John-I am waitin' for you every night.
Proctor: Abby, I never give you hope to wait for me.
Abigail: I have something better than hope, I think!
Proctor: Abby, you'll put it out of mind. I'll not be comin' for you more.
Abigail: You're surely sportin' with me.
Proctor: You know me better.
Abigail: I know how you clutched my back behind your house and sweated like a stallion whenever I come near! Or did I dream that? It's she put me out, you cannot pretend it were you. I saw your face when she put me out, and you loved me then and you do now!
Proctor: Abby, that's a wild thing to say.
Abigail: A wild thing may say wild things. I have seen you since she put me out; I have seen you nights.
Proctor: I have hardly stepped off my farm this sevenmonth.
Abigail: I have a sense for heat, John, and yours has drawn me to my window, and I have seen you looking up, burning in your loneliness. Do you tell me you've never looked up at my window?
Proctor: I may have looked up.
Abigail: And you must. You are no wintry man. I know you, John. I know you. I cannot sleep for dreamin'; I cannot dream but I wake and walk about the house as though I'd find you comin' through some door.
Abigail: How do you call me child!
Proctor: Abby, I may think of you softly from time to time. But I will cut off my hand before I'll ever reach for you again. Wipe it out of mind. We never touched, Abby.
Abigail: Aye, but we did.
Proctor: Aye, but we did not.
--- Hirose: Our second son can be anything, depending on his brother's kindness. The third son never accomplishes anything; he's worthless from birth. Wife: And the eldest son is? Hirose: The first light to darken.