The Crucible auditions will take place on August 9 starting at 7:00pm.
In person auditions and callbacks will take place at 1600 Emory Rd, Upperco, MD 21155.
Performances are October 25, 26, 27
For auditions, please prepare one or two of the following monologues (note: if you wish to choose a different monologue from The Crucible or another show, you are free to do so):
REBECCA NURSE: Pray, calm yourselves. I have eleven children, and I am twenty-six times a grandma, and I have seen them all through their silly seasons, and when it come on them they will run the Devil bowlegged keeping up with their mischief. I think she’ll wake when she tires of it. A child’s spirit is like a child, you can never catch it by running after it, you must stand still, and for love it will soon itself come back.
MARY WARREN: I never knew it before. I never knew anything before. When she come into the court I say to myself, I must not accuse this woman, for she sleep in ditches, and so very old and poor… But then… then she sit there, denying and denying, and I feel a misty coldness climbin’ up my back, and the skin on my skull begin to creep, and I feel a clamp around my neck and I cannot breathe air; and then… (Entranced as though it were a miracle.) I hear a voice, a screamin’ voice, and it were my voice… and all at once I remembered everything she done to me!
ABIGAIL WILLIAMS: Why, you taught me goodness, therefore you are good.
It were a fire you walked me through, and all my ignorance was burned away. It were a fire, John, we lay in fire. And from that night no woman dare call me wicked any more but I knew my answer. I used to weep for my sins when the wind lifted up my skirts; and blushed for shame because some old Rebecca called me loose. And then you burned my ignorance away. As bare as some December tree I saw them all–walking like saints to church, running to feed the sick, and hypocrites in their hearts! And God gave me strength to call them liars, and God made men to listen to me, and by God I will scrub the world clean for the love of Him! Oh, John, I will make you such a wife when the world is white again! (She kisses his hand.) You will be amazed to see me every day, a light of heaven in your house, a- (He rises, backs away amazed.) Why are you cold?
ABIGAIL WILLIAMS: Now look you. All of you. We danced. And Tituba conjured Ruth Putnam’s dead sisters. And that is all. And mark this-let either of you breathe a word, or the edge of a word about the other things, and I will come to you in the black of some terrible night and I will bring a pointy reckoning that will shudder you.
And you know I can do it; I saw Indians smash my dear parents’ heads on the pillow next to mine, and I have seen some reddish work done at night, and I can make you wish you had never seen the sun go down!
TITUBA: He say Mister Parris must be kill!
Mister Parris no goodly man, Mister Parris mean man and no gentle man, and he bid me rise out of my bed and cut your throat! (They gasp.) I tell him, no! I don’t hate that man! I don’t want kill that man! But he say, You work for me, Tituba, and I make you free! I give you pretty dress to wear, and put you way high up in the air and you gone fly back to Barbados! And I say, You lie, Devil, you lie! And then he come one stormy night to me, and he say, Look! I have white people belong to me. And I look… And there was Goody Good.
JOHN PROCTOR: Eight months now, sir, it is eight months. She used to serve me in my house, sir. A man may think God sleeps, but God sees everything. I know it now. I beg you, sir, I beg you–see her what she is. My wife, my dear good wife took this girl soon after, sir, and put her out on the highroad. And being what she is, a lump of vanity, sir… (Starts to weep.) Excellency, forgive me, forgive me. She thinks to dance with me on my wife’s grave! And well she might!-for I thought of her softly, God help me, I lusted, and there is a promise in such sweat! But it is a whore’s vengeance, and you must see it; I set myself entirely in your hands, I know you must see it now. My wife is innocent, except she know a whore when she see one.
ELIZABETH PROCTOR: Spoke or silent, a promise is surely made. And she may dote on it now—I am sure she does—and thinks to kill me, then to take my place. It is her dearest hope, John, I know it. There be a thousand names, why does she call mine? There be a certain danger in calling such a name—I am no Goody Good that sleeps in ditches, nor Osburn drunk and half-witted. She’s dare not call out such a farmer’s wife but there be monstrous profit in it. She thinks to take my place, John. John, have you ever shown her somewhat of contempt? She cannot pass you in the church but you will blush…and I think she sees another meaning in that blush. I think you be somewhat ashamed, for I am there, and she so close. Go and tell her she’s a whore. Whatever promise she may sense break it John!! Break it!
REVEREND HALE: Let you not mistake your duty as I mistook my own. I came into this village like a bridegroom to his beloved; bearing gifts of high religion, the very crowns of holy law I brought, and what I touched with my bright confidence, it died; and where I turned the eye of my great faith, blood flowed up. Beware, Goody Proctor- cleave to no faith when faith brings blood. It is mistaken law that leads you to sacrifice. Life, woman, life is God’s most precious gift; no principle however glorious may justify the taking of it. I beg you, woman–prevail upon your husband to confess. Let him give his lie. Quail not before God’s judgment in this, for it may well be God damns a liar less than he that throws his life away for pride. Will you plead with him? I cannot think he will listen to another.
REVEREND SAMUEL PARRIS: I cannot blink what I saw, Abigail, for my enemies will not blink it. I saw a dress lying in the grass and I thought I saw someone naked running through the trees. I saw it! Now tell me true, Abigail. Now my ministry’s at stake; my ministry and perhaps your cousin’s life….Whatever abomination you have done, give me all of it now, for I dare not be taken unaware when I go before them down there. Abigail, I have fought here three long years to bend these stiff-necked people to me, and now, just now when there must be some good respect for me in the parish, you compromise my very character. I have given you a home, child, I have put clothes upon your back—now give me upright answer: your name in the town — it is entirely white, is it not?
Below are the character descriptions (all roles are available):
Note: Ages listed are for the characters, not necessarily the actors. ages of actors will be flexible.
Characters:
The Young Girls:
Abigail Williams: Around 17, clever, quick, and brutal. Having an affair with John Proctor.
Mary Warren: Around 15, timid and easily influenced, torn between self-defense and doing right
Betty Parris: Younger than 15, fallen into a strange stupor after dancing in the woods
Mercy Lewis: Around 17, willing to throw blame with Abigail if it means personal safety.
Susanna Walcott: Younger than 18, a friend to Abigail, willing to point fingers
The Town:
John Proctor: Around 30, a stern, no-nonsense farmer determined to protect his good name, despite having an affair with Abigail.
Reverend John Hale: Loosely “young,” eager to use his new schooling to identify witchcraft, naive and from out of town
Elizabeth Proctor: Around 30, John’s virtuous wife, well aware of John’s flaws. Cold, but loyal.
Reverend Parris: Over 30, Abigail’s uncle and Salem’s local, yet controversial minister. Simultaneously self-pitying and self-righteous.
Rebecca Nurse: Over 30, upheld in town as a good, well-respected woman, Godly
Francis Nurse: Over 30, dignified and well-respected by most
Judge Danforth: Over 30, by the book witchcraft prosecutor, believes an accusation should lead to punishment
Giles Corey: Over 50, feisty, combative, and principled older citizen of Salem
Tituba: Any age, Reverend Parris’ slave from Barbados, desperate to save herself from being the sacrificial scapegoat
Thomas Putnam: Over 30, a wealthy landowner, holds grudges and backs accusations that work in his favor
Ann Putnam: Over 30, suspects witchcraft to be behind her children’s deaths
Judge Hathorne: Over 25, subservient to Danforth, agrees witchcraft must be hunted but occasionally tries to talk sense to Danforth
Sarah Good: Over 18, a homeless woman accused of witchcraft, spends time confessing to witchcraft as self defense
Ezekiel Cheever: Over 18, clerk of the court
Marshal Herrick: Over 18, guards the jail cells while nearly drunk