ed by her week away from the other girls. She's lost the sense of it now," as she says.Hathorne and Parris think they have won. Mary has failed the test, so she must be lying now. But Danforth isn't sure. Too much doubt has been cast on Abigail, and Mary's pathetic explanations somehow ring true to him. So he turns to Abigail again and bids her search her heart and speak the truth.But Hathorne's trick has brought Abigail enough time to collect her wits. Once again, as she did with her uncle in Act I, she dodges the question and attacks Danforth for asking it, even going so far as to threaten him openly:Let you beware, Mr. Danforth. Think you to be so mighty that the power of Hell may not turn your wits? Beware of it!The irony is that this is precisely what's happening. Abigail Williams, at this very moment, is turning Danforth's wits toward her destructive purpose.But she breaks her threat off in midsentence. Maybe she's afraid of going too far, maybe she just gets a better idea. It is fun twisting Danforth around her little finger, but Danforth isn't Abigail's real enemy here, Mary Warren is, and Mary Warren must be destroyed. What better way then to "cry her out"?We've heard a lot about the awful torments these poor girls endure in court day after day. Now we get to see them in action. The important thing here is not what these girls suffer, but who is being made to suffer. To the judges, these are children. Adults are strong enough to fend for themselves; but the suffering of children is an outrage.Danforth cannot conceive that a child could be evil enough or even smart enough to plot murder. Abigail knows this, and she plays on it. When it begins to look like Proctor might be opening Danforth's eyes Abigail moves quickly. And the girls, like robots, follow suit.They haven't lost the "sense of it," as Mary Warren quickly sees. By now the girls are old hands at being tormented, and can turn it on as easily as a water faucet. They foll...
