From The Crucible
ELIZABETH: What keeps you so late? Itâs almost dark.
PROCTOR: I were planting far out to the forest edge.
ELIZABETH: Oh, youâre done then.
PROCTOR: Aye, the farm is seeded. The boys asleep?
ELIZABETH: They will be soon. And she goes to the fireplace, proceeds to ladle up stew in a dish. Pray now for a fair summer.
ELIZABETH: Aye.
PROCTOR: Are you well today?
ELIZABETH: I am. She brings the plate to the table, and, indicating the food: It is a rabbit.
PROCTOR, going to the table: Oh, is it! In Jonathanâs trap?
ELIZABETH: No, she walked into the house this afternoon; I found her sittinâ in the corner like she come to visit.
PROCTOR: Oh, thatâs a good sign walkinâ in.
ELIZABETH: Pray God. It hurt my heart to strip her, poor rabbit. She sits and watches him taste it.
PROCTOR: Itâs well seasoned.
ELIZABETH, blushing with pleasure: I took great care. Sheâs tender?
PROCTOR: Aye. He eats. She watches him. I think weâll see green fields soon. Itâs warm as blood beneath the clods.
ELIZABETH: Thatâs well.
Proctor eats, then looks up.
PROCTOR: If the crop is good Iâll buy George Jacobsâ heifer. How would that please you?
ELIZABETH: Aye, it would.
PROCTOR, with a grin: I mean to please you, Elizabeth.
ELIZABETHâit is hard to say: I know it, John. He gets up, goes to her, kisses her. She receives it. With a certain disappointment, he returns to the table.
PROCTOR, as gently as he can: Cider?
ELIZABETH, with a sense of reprimanding herself for having forgot : Aye! She gets up and goes and pours a glass for him. He now arches his back.
PROCTOR: This farmâs a continent when you go foot by foot droppinâ seeds in it.
ELIZABETH, coming with the cider: It must be.
PROCTOR, he drinks a long draught, then, putting the glass down: You ought to bring some flowers in the house.
ELIZABETH: Oh! I forgot! I will tomorrow.
PROCTOR: Itâs winter in here yet. On Sunday let you come with me, and weâll walk the farm together; I never see such a load of flowers on the earth. With good feeling he goes and looks up at the sky through the open doorway. Lilacs have a purple smell. Lilac is the smell of nightfall, I think. Massachusetts is a beauty in the spring!
ELIZABETH: Aye, it is.
There is a pause. She is watching him from the table as he stands there absorbing the night. It is as though she would speak but cannot. Instead, now, she takes up his plate and glass and fork and goes with them to the basin. Her back is turned to him. He turns to her and watches her. A sense
of their separation, rises.
PROCTOR: I think youâre sad again. Are you?
ELIZABETHâshe doesnât want friction, and yet she must: You come so
late I thought youâd gone to Salem this afternoon.
PROCTOR: Why? I have no business in Salem.
ELIZABETH: You did speak of going, earlier this week.
PROCTORâhe knows what she means: I thought better of it since.
Which of the following specific details best supports the idea that John and Elizabeth Proctorâs marriage is strained?