Deputy Governor Danforth

Deputy Governor Danforth

1. Believes that he is fair minded, is annoyed when people are afraid of the Court

   • GILES, beginning to plead: They be tellin’ lies about my wife, sir, I— DANFORTH: Do you take it upon yourself to determine what this court shall believe and what it shall set aside?
   • Takes pride in the number of people he has hanged
     • DANFORTH: Peace, Judge Hathorne. Do you know who I am, Mr. Nurse? FRANCIS: I surely do, sir, and I think you must be a wise judge to be what you are. DANFORTH: And do you know that near to four hundred are in the jails from Marblehead to Lynn, and upon my signature? FRANCIS: I— DANFORTH: And seventy-two condemned to hang by that signature? FRANCIS: Excellency, I never thought to say it to such a weighty judge, but you are deceived
     • Mr. Hale, as God have not empowered me like Joshua to stop this sun from rising, so I cannot withhold from them the perfection of their punishment.
   • I tell you true, woman, had I no other proof of your unnatural life, your dry eyes now would be sufficient evidence that you delivered up your soul to Hell! A very ape would weep at such calamity! Have the Devil dried up any tear of pity in you?

2. No innocent person should fear the Court

   • FRANCIS: These are all covenanted Christians, sir. DANFORTH: Then I am sure they may have nothing to fear
   • No uncorrupted man may fear this court, Mr. Hale! None! To Giles:

3. He and Governer Haethorn are working for God

   • I pray you, Mr. Parris. Do you know, Mr. Proctor, that the entire contention of the state in these trials is that the voice of Heaven is speaking through the children?
   • Mr. Hale, believe me; for a man of such terrible learning you are most bewildered—I hope you will forgive me. I have been thirty-two year at the bar, sir, and I should be confounded were I called upon to defend these people. Let you consider, now—To Proctor and the others: And I bid you all do likewise. In an ordinary crime, how does one defend the accused? One calls up witnesses to prove his innocence. But witchcraft is ipso facto, on its face and by its nature, an invisible crime, is it not? Therefore, who may possibly be witness to it? The witch and the victim. None other. Now we cannot hope the witch will accuse herself; granted? Therefore, we must rely upon her victims— and they do testify, the children certainly do testify. As for the witches, none will deny that we are most eager for all their confessions. Therefore, what is left for a lawyer to bring out? I think I have made my point. Have I not?
   • Now hear me, and beguile yourselves no more. I will not receive a single plea for pardon or postponement. Them that will not confess will hang. Twelve are already executed; the names of these seven are given out, and the village expects to see them die this morning. Postponement now speaks a floundering on my part; reprieve or pardon must cast doubt upon the guilt of them that died till now. While I speak God’s law, I will not crack its voice with whimpering. If retaliation is your fear, know this—I should hang ten thousand that dared to rise against the law, and an ocean of salt tears could not melt the resolution of the statutes. Now draw yourselves up like men and help me, as you are bound by Heaven to do

4. Miller’s depiction of the characters of the people who prosecuted witches—like Danforth—was sometimes criticized as being too excessive. Miller agreed, but defended his depiction as adhering to the facts of history. Miller suggested Danforth was important because he helped define and defend the boundaries of society, the rules that people lived by. His character, Miller said, is driven by the idea that mankind must be protected from knowledge, an idea that Miller characterized as believing that “evil is good.”

   • No, old man, you have not hurt these people if they are of good conscience. But you must understand, sir, that a person is either with this court or he must be counted against it, there be no road between. This is a sharp time, now, a precise time—we live no longer in the dusky afternoon when evil mixed itself with good and befuddled the world. Now, by God’s grace, the shining sun is up, and them that fear not light will surely praise it. I hope you will be one of those
   • I will tell you this—you are either lying now, or you were lying in the court, and in either case you have committed perjury and you will go to jail for it. You cannot lightly say you lied, Mary. Do you know that?
   • I cannot hear you. What do you say? Mary utters again unintelligibly. You will confess yourself or you will hang! He turns her roughly to face him. Do you know who I am? I say you will hang if you do not open with me!