Start:

Proctor: I must speak with you, Abigail. (She does not move, staring at him.) Will you sit?

Abigail: How do you come?

Proctor: Friendly.

Abigail: (Glancing about.) I don’t like the woods at night. Pray you, stand closer. (He comes closer to her.) I knew it must be you. When I heard the pebbles on the window, before I opened my eyes, I knew.

[... … …]

End:

Abigail: Oh, how hard it is when pretense falls! But it falls, it falls! (She wraps herself up as though to go.) You have done your duty by her. I hope it is your last hypocrisy. I pray you will come again with sweeter news for me. I know you will--now that your duty’s done. Good night, John. Fear naught. I will save you tomorrow. From yourself I will save you.

Arthur Miller, The Crucible. Dramatists Play Service, New York,