he books' "authority" that the witches will later be hanged.But before he can begin even to find out if there are witches in this case, a disturbing thing happens. John Proctor, who knows the girls were only fooling around (he doesn't seem to have heard about the charm to kill his wife), leaves. Maybe he's giving up on what he sees as the foolishness of his neighbors, maybe he believes Reverend Hale will talk some sense into them. Shortly afterward, Rebecca Nurse follows Proctor out, saying she is "too old for this." She doesn't believe there is witchcraft here, and she also seems to be afraid that Reverend Hale's being here is a bad idea. There is no one left in the room who doubts the existence of witchcraft. Except maybe Abigail, but she is, as we have seen, a special case.What follows is the logical result of removing the only really reasonable people from the scene. Had they stayed, they would certainly have hampered Mr. Hale's work, and the momentum that carries the town into witch madness might never have built up. To use the analogy of a tug-of-war, they let go of the rope.Since the opening of the play we have been prepared for this moment; we have seen it coming. We expect to see some witchcraft. And Arthur Miller does not disappoint us.The people in the room are all breathless, waiting for Mr. Hale and his books to work their magic. They all know that what takes place in the next few moments will probably change their lives. Even if he comes up with nothing, as he warns them might happen, and finds "no bruise of hell" on Betty, at least they will have witnessed a prodigious demonstration of deep learning.But Hale has given them reason to hope for something more spectacular. This man has acquaintance with all familiar spirits--"your incubi and succubi; your witches that go by land, by air, and by sea; your wizards of the night and of the day." He has promised that "If [Betty] is truly in the Devil's grip we may have to rip and ...
