o conjure up the dead!" Parris cries, and turns in horror to Abigail. Of course, she had nothing to do with conjuring spirits: "Not I, sir--Tituba and Ruth." Once again, all Parris can think of is himself: "Oh, Abigail, what proper payment for my charity! Now I am undone." But Thomas Putnam has a plan. If Parris will quit dithering and take charge of the situation, he will not be undone. "Let you strike out against the Devil, and the village will bless you for it!" Parris, swayed by this argument--which not only makes sense, but also flatters his self-important image of himself--goes down to the parlor with the Putnams to lead the people in a psalm.I said that Putnam's argument made sense, and it does, but only if you accept the premise that Betty and Ruth are in fact "witched." And this has not yet been proven even to Parris's satisfaction. But Putnam puts it to him in such a way that the only thing Parris can do to save himself is to "Wait for no one to charge you--declare it [witchcraft] yourself." And Parris, being who he is, has to go along. Whatever his doubts, whatever his fears, his actions say, "This is witchcraft."NOTE: Every act is studded with such moments, seemingly innocent or unavoidable decisions that determine the direction of future events. Here Parris takes the first small step toward the horror that will follow.And a word here about "proof." It is the most troublesome issue in the play: how do you prove witchcraft? Everyone seems to have a different answer. Look at Goody Putnam's speech, "They were murdered, Mr. Parris! And mark this proof! Mark it! Last night my Ruth were ever so little close to their little spirits; I know it, sir. For how else is she struck dumb now except some power of darkness would stop her mouth? It is a marvelous sign, Mr. Parris!" Later on Reverend Hale, the expert on witchcraft, will say, "We cannot look to superstition in this. The Devil is precise." But the question of what constitutes pr...
