How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #4
"Oh, dear God!" I murmured. Then an idea came to me. "Tituba, tomorrow you can tell the truth to the magistrates."
"Tituba want no more beatings."
"They won't beat you."
"Tituba's master will, if Tituba tell truth. He don't want it known his little daughter and niece are lying."
"Does he know they are lying?"
"He never think this. He know only that Tituba make disaster. He want to believe Tituba is to blame. Others need to think so, also. So Tituba will give them what they need to know." (11.16-21)
When it comes to Tituba, she starts lying to save her life—Reverend Parris won't stop beating her until she says she's a witch, so that's just what she does. What do you think of this? Reverend Parris sure has backed Tituba into a corner.
Quote #5
"Why did you not come forth sooner?" I asked.
"I was caught in a whirlwind. I come forth now to save my master. I am his jade." This in itself was a confession, and I wondered if she would say such words in court. Did she indeed fancy herself in love with John Proctor? Had she had a sinful dalliance with him in his house? Was that why she had named his wife as a witch? To be rid of her? I had heard that Elizabeth Proctor was again with child.
"I love him," she said, answering my unspoken question. (13.12-14)
Mary Warren used to be part of the circle of lying girls. But the tides have changed, Shmoopers, and now this gal is all about truth-telling. Gosh, she's even telling the truth about things that could really get her in trouble, like having a little crush on her master. What do you think of this quick switch from lies to truth?
Quote #6
"Of course," she answered, "Why should we not? Do you think we take this charge from the Lord lightly?"
"It started as sport, I reminded her. "The last time we spoke you said you had accepted the diagnosis of the evil hand on you to get attention."
"We were not sensible yet of what was happening with us. We thought it sport. But when we name people, they confess to horrible doings we do not even accuse them of. And when an accused witch confesses, a great peace comes over us."
I looked from Ann to Mercy. "You have become enamored with your own lies," I said. They both shrugged. (14.57-61)
Uh-oh—now Salem is in big trouble. Earlier in the book, Ann and her gaggle of gal pals thought they were lying just for fun, and though it wasn't funny at all, at least they knew they were lies. Now Ann and her posse have totally flipped the switch, and they're convinced they're doing the right thing. Do you notice a change in Ann's demeanor in this passage? Does she seem to view the accusations differently? Or do you think she's still just as evil as ever?