Abigail confronts John Proctor when they are alone together, contradicting him when he flatly states that their affair is over. She uses a simile comparing Proctor to a virile horse to make her statement stronger:
ABIGAIL: I know how you clutched my back behind your house and sweated like a stallion whenever I come near! Or did I dream that? It’s she put me out, you cannot pretend it were you. I saw your face when she put me out, and you loved me then and you do now!
The simile "sweated like a stallion" compares Proctor’s arousal during their sexual encounters to a vigorous and powerful horse. He was so captivated by her, Abigail says, that he "sweated" buckets as they had sex. “Stallions” are male horses who have not been castrated or neutered and so are still able to breed. This imagery points to Abigail’s perception of Proctor’s virility and the intense physicality of their relationship. By saying Proctor was like a “stallion,” Abigail is stating that she knows his desire for her was (and is) extremely strong. She’s also trying to flatter him to make him feel desired and masculine. She knows that his wife is chilly toward him, so she wants to remind him how he “clutched [her] back” while they had sex. She wants him to compare Elizabeth to her and find his wife wanting.
Childbirth in the 17th century was a terrifying prospect for everyone involved and often came with grief. In this passage, Miller uses a simile to convey Mrs. Putnam’s profound fear and sorrow regarding the multiple deaths she had to endure as a mother. Pointing to her unconscious daughter, Goody Putnam explains why she called Reverend Parris in to see her:
MRS PUTNAM: Reverend Parris, I have laid seven babies unbaptized in the earth. Believe me, sir, you never saw more hearty babies born. And yet, each would wither in my arms the very night of their birth. I have spoke nothin’, but my heart has clamored intimations. And now, this year, my Ruth, my only- I see her turning strange. A secret child she has become this year, and shrivels like a sucking mouth were pullin’ on her life too. And so I thought to send her to you.
Here, Goody Putnam suspects her former midwives of cursing her, and of trying to kill Ruth, her only living child. By comparing the way Ruth’s condition progresses to “a sucking mouth” that is “pullin’ on her life,” Mrs. Putnam evokes an uncanny, parasitic feeling. It’s as though an unseen force is sapping her daughter’s vitality., which terrifies her. The idea of “sucking” in the context of discussing dying babies also feels frightening, as it suggests that breastfeeding is linked to death or decay.
Although Goody Putnma is particularly misfortunate, it was not at all uncommon for children (or mothers) to die in the process of birth in the 1600s. Expectant mothers had around a one in eight chance of dying in childbirth or from birth-related complications over the course of their lives. Babies had an even lower survival rate. Although Ann Putnam was actually 12 years old and one of the primary accusers in the real Salem witch trials, the real women of Salem of childbearing age and older would almost certainly have known losses like the ones this character describes. With no explanation for why babies seemed to suddenly die, “withering” in their parents’ arms, suspicion often fell on the women who helped in the birthing process. Midwives had a much higher chance of being accused of witchcraft than other members of the community, especially if they were unmarried and were easily scapegoated.
No matter what Proctor says, Elizabeth can’t seem to shake her sadness and frustration that he had an affair with Abigail Williams. Proctor uses a metaphor and a simile to emphasize how frustrated he feels, having reached his breaking point after months of contrition and after having fired Abigail. He shouts:
I have gone tiptoe in this house all seven month since she is gone. I have not moved from there to there without I think to please you, and still an everlasting funeral marches around your heart. I cannot speak but I am doubted, every moment judged for lies, as though I come into a court when I come into this house!
The metaphor "an everlasting funeral marches around your heart" refers poetically to Elizabeth’s seemingly endless sorrow and inability to truly forgive John. It’s a common misconception that Puritan theocratic societies like the town of Salem didn’t allow for divorce; they did, and it was actually the Massachusetts Bay colony that legalized divorce in 1629. The dissolution of marriage was actually often granted for circumstances involving adultery, as Proctor’s marriage does in The Crucible. However, Elizabeth is a deeply religious character and believes that it is her god-given duty to stay with her husband and to forgive him for his infidelity. Although she struggles to actually let the betrayal go, she tries to act as though all is forgiven.
Since Elizabeth is a poor liar, however, her husband is not fooled. Proctor likens Elizabeth’s emotional state to a perpetual funeral here, suggesting that she remains in a state of mourning even though there’s nothing else he can do to atone for his adultery. This metaphor gives the sense that Elizabeth sees her life as an unending procession of grief, where Proctor’s misdeeds are constantly paraded in front of him. Despite Proctor’s efforts to please her, he feels that her heart remains closed off.
The simile "as though I come into a court when I come into this house" further points to Proctor’s feeling of being constantly judged and scrutinized. By comparing his home to a courtroom, Proctor implied that Elizabeth treats him like a defendant on trial. Rather than being able to speak freely, he feels that every action and word of his are subject to doubt and judgment. Proctor feels that he cannot escape the scrutiny and suspicion his wife lives with, even in his own home.