Chapter Three: What God Hath Joined Together

John stood at the window, watching the sunrise. His eyes went to the shutter, at an uneven surface on the plane of the wood. He ran his fingers over it with a faint frown. He would have to see to it later and make the necessary adjustments. No doubt there were other imperfections to be found as well, for the house he was in had been more hastily constructed than the home Abel Proctor had inherited for from his own father. This new home was the one that John had built for his own family- for he and his bride and whatever children they would bring into this world.

When word first came from the Kilbournes that Elizabeth had accepted John's marriage proposal, Abel had abruptly announced to his son that he would be excused from his normal labors beside him in their fields to see to the more imminent task of building a house of his own to present as a wedding gift to his wife. The wedding date had already been established for November the 16th. That had meant that he had all of four months to erect a house not only worthy enough to present to a bride, but a house to raise a family. Four short months.

John had known that he would have to build a house of his own for he and his family eventually. It was only customary, as the scriptures instructed for a man to leave his mother and father and cleave onto his wife. Besides, the thought of living underneath the same roof with Elizabeth and his parents wasn't the most appealing one he had ever had. The thought of escaping from the demanding expectations and presence of his father however, was very appealing to him. All the same though, he had expected to at least have a short time after the wedding to plan and build his home in the way he would have liked; carefully and methodically, after he had had time to observe and consult with Elizabeth as to her own preferences and wishes for their home. But with his father's instructions came the reality that there would be no time for any of that.

It was fortunate that John had long excelled in carpentry, even above farming. Even with the limited timetable that Abel had given him, he had worked diligently, day after day and even at times into the early evening on his and Elizabeth's new home. His father had offered no aid to him in the project, which John hadn't expected to begin with. Abel was of the type to believe that something as personal and monumental as a home had to solely come from the hands of the man who would preside over it. This house was to be a symbol of John's own manhood and efforts, something John knew his father believed him to be lacking in.

The boundaries of the Proctor property were spacious and generous enough for John to pick a patch of land a good distance away from Abel and Miriam's home on which to build his own home. It was just at the bottom of a low, but tranquil valley that adjoined a bountiful field of grains, and was one of his favorite parts of his father's land. Although he could not build the house he had always imagined being able to build for himself, John made do with what he could, and worked diligently on a house that he could nonetheless be proud of. Although not as impressive as some of the other homes in the countryside, it was still more than acceptable, with two stories, two bedrooms, and a sizeable single room on the first floor.

After the first few weeks of his laboring, Giles Corey, the farmer whose property was just upon the outskirts of John's valley began to come and help him work upon the house. Giles was a simple and admittedly uneducated man, who was not as refined and disciplined as Abel. Although his family had a decently sized and prosperous farm, it wasn't anywhere near as prosperous as the Proctors, nor the Putnams, who lived on the other adjoining side of his land. His tongue was not kept as thoroughly in cheek as perhaps it should have been. Upon several occasions, John had been able to smell alcohol on his breath. He even kept a small flask of ale concealed in one of his pockets that he had offered to John to drink from more than once. (Which John, listening to the better side of his conscience, had always refused). He also had a quick temper which the very mention of his neighbor, Thomas Putnam could set off in an instant. But regardless of his faults, Giles Corey was, in John's opinion, a very good and likable man. He was quick to lend a hand in hard work, good-natured, kind, and always able to recite an amusing, if mildly vulgar joke. The two of them had become fast and loyal friends during the course of the past four months, despite Abel's reservations and opinion that Giles was too coarse and undisciplined to be an acceptable friend for his son. He did nothing to hinder the growth of their friendship though, most likely not wanting to cause a rift or discord with so close a neighbor.

When he had first began the work on the house, the task had seemed daunting and endless. But now, as he stood in the bedroom of the finished product on the morning of his wedding day, John could not believe that four months had come and gone so quickly.

The knock at the door startled John from his thoughts. He'd no time to even reply to the knock before the door opened and his father walked into the room. John braced himself, inwardly tensing up in preparation for anything. Abel didn't speak though. Their eyes met and held in an awkward silence before he began walking slowly about the room, his hands clasped behind his back as they always were when he was prepared to say something that he considered vastly important.

"You have risen earlier than usual." he said, "I went to your chamber this morning to find that you had gone."

"I decided to come here and give the place a final inspection." John replied, "The next time I come to it will be for the ceremony itself- I wanted to ensure everything was to proper standard."

"Hmm." Abel mused, still pacing, "An all too often over-exaggerrated business, weddings are. The Almighty intended it for a solemn, serious occasion with no pomp or ceremony, and still his children partake in the vain indulgences of the flesh. I tried to tell Josiah that a dinner was entirely unnecessary. It does a disservice to his daughter to allow her such an opportunity for vanity and he serves as a poor example himself in displaying such a weakness of manhood. When your mother and I were married, you can be assured that there was no ceremony to distract us from our sacred duties to the Almighty." He glanced at John sharply, "I do hope that you intend to be a better model for your wife in your marriage. A wife can have no better teacher and moral guide than her husband. As go a man's standards and code, so go his entire household."

John nodded, "I understand, Father." And he did understand- Abel may have made it his life's mission to prove to the world how holy and righteous he was by depriving his family of any and everything that failed his 'moral standards', but that wasn't the way that his son intended on overseeing his family or household. He would rather have been condemned to damnation before causing his wife to fear and cower before him as Miriam feared and cowered before his father. His children would not grow up in abashed, silent disdain of him. John's family would honor and respect him, but he also intended that they would also freely and truly love him. There would be none of the tyrannical shadow that Abel had cast over his house. John was determined to be different- he would be different.

Abel came closer to him near the window, and John had to resist the urge to step back. "It is my greatest hope that my efforts and instruction of you have not been in vain, John." he said, "I am aware that you and I have not always been in perfect harmony with one another. I am aware that there have been many times in which that you have found my ways to be unsatisfactory." The distaste was apparent on Abel's face as he gave a small shake of his head, "As I am sure you are aware, your mother believes that I have often been too severe in my raising of you."

John didn't know how to respond at first, "Father...I-"

Abel held up his hand to interrupt him mid-sentence though, "No." he said firmly, "There is little use in denying that. Nor will I try to pretend that it has not served as a point of...disagreement between us over the years."

The admission surprised John. To hear his father actually admit that he and his wife were in discord about anything, much less to his own son was outside of Abel's character. It was an admission of an imperfection, a stain on the clean sheet of his household.

"Nevertheless, I stand firm in my belief that everything I have done, every lesson I have striven to teach you, has all been for your benefit. I have been stern and severe with you because that is the way that my father was with me. He taught me many a valuable lesson, but the most important, the most essential of these- was the importance of a man's honor."

"Hear me, John," he said, his face and tone more serious than ever, "We have a good living here. Our land yields good harvest. You and your mother have never wanted for anything. I have had a sufficient income to provide for you both, and leave you a substantial inheritance for when I am gone to amply provide for both your family and your mother. There are many things I have amassed for this family to give thanks for. And yet, all of this, all of these material things would be absolutely worthless to me if I did not first and foremost, have my honor and self-respect."

John nodded, his thoughts already drifting away from what he foresaw as one of his father's endless lectures, "Aye sir, I under-"

"Do you?" Abel cut him off, his voice sharper than before, "Do you truly understand? There have been occasions, John, more than I would wish, that have given me pause about you. Even now, I am uncertain if you truly understand what it is that I say. But today is the day that you begin to build your own household- the day you can no longer be shielded beneath the shadow of my name. After today, every man will no longer see you as merely my son. You will be your own man, with his own reputation and honor to protect and defend. Every word you speak, every decision you make will be under constant scrutiny and critique. Every person in this village will either look to you as an example, or look down upon you as an object of their ridicule. There is no room for neutrality or indifference- not in Salem, not in all of this world. The ability to walk the streets with an uplifted head; to be consulted for wisdom and counsel rather than being forced to constantly seek it; giving your word, and having the knowledge that it will be accepted and respected as absolute truth-there are no greater possessions, no greater claims that a man can have in this world than these, John. If a man cannot rest in this security, he will never find rest in any other matter that he sets his mind to. He will never find peace. He will never find himself."

At the onset of his father's speech, John had at first been paying him little mind, believing that he would be hearing more of the same condescending, patronizing lectures that he had been hearing from Abel for most of his life. The more he went on though, the more attention John found himself paying to the words he heard- really and truly listening to them as he had never listened before. By the time Abel stopped speaking, he was fully engrossed-even nearly overwhelmed by the magnitude of what he heard.

His father sighed heavily, facing him as he went on, "Until this day, I have made every decision for you, with all of these things in consideration. I know you believe that my only wish in this was to control and perhaps even tyrannize you, but this is not the truth. You are my only son, John. You are my only child- the heir to everything I possess. I wished only to protect you," He paused then, looking down at the ground as his voice became quieter, "...That is still my greatest wish."

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. John seemed stricken. To hear his father speak this way brought him no comfort- in truth, it was almost jarring. After a lifetime of brusque and harsh lectures, reprimands and orders, hearing Abel speak to him in what seemed to be actual sentiment and concern was far too much for John to try to take in for one day- even more so on this particular day.

Abel meanwhile, briskly cleared his throat, his voice taking on its familiar, gruff tone, "That however is no longer possible. It is no longer my responsibility to protect you as your father. You must do that for yourself as a man. Do you understand?"

John nodded, "Yes, sir." He bit his lip, pausing as he watched Abel turn towards the door. He called out to stop him, "Father? I...I know that I have not always been the most dutiful, nor the most obedient son. I know I have disappointed you. But I...well, I wish you to know...I never wanted to...that is to say, I did not mean-"

"John," his father held up a hand to silence him, although calmly, "We shall have no more talk of your past behavior. Your trespasses are between you and the Lord- I have forgiven you for ones made against me. Today is not a day for repentance. It is a day of duty. Responsibility. Honor: all yours. Let you dedicate your attentions onto those matters where they be best spent."

John nodded again, his voice thick with the earnest honesty of his words, "I will not fail you in this, Father. I swear it: before you and the Almighty. I will protect and defend the honor of this family. My household will never have a reason to hang its head in shame. The Proctor name shall never lose its honor."

Abel looked at him in silence for a long moment, "Well...then I could hardly ask for more from you." he finally answered. He gestured towards the door, "Come. It is time. Your bride awaits you."

John went ahead of him, going out the door to the stairs down to the first level of the house. Just as he reached the top step, he felt a light, but undeniable pressure on his shoulder.

It was his father's hand.

John didn't turn around, continuing in his footsteps, knowing he was expected to let the gesture go unacknowledged. It was an expectation that he had almost disappointed though; it was the first time in his entire memory that Abel had ever touched him out of affection...

Elizabeth finished tying the knot that fastened her cap firmly to her head. She swept her fingers along the place where the cloth met her scalp to ensure that no stray hairs has escaped from the cap's confines. She let them flit over the rest of her body briefly, making sure that every other aspect of her attire was in order. Everything was in its ordinary state; she looked as she always did.

It may have been the morning of her wedding, but Elizabeth worse no special adornment for the occasion. The dress that she wore was one of two that she owned- the one that was least faded into a dullish gray color. The fabric at the elbows of the sleeves were the least frayed of the two. And it had the the least amount of stains from cooking, cleaning or gardening that no amount of scrubbing or washing could remove. It would have to suit, even for this momentous event. Her father had forbidden her from making a new gown for her wedding day, or doing anything to seek to improve her appearance, saying it would be taken as a sign of vanity on her part by their neighbors. His harsh restrictions did not apply to himself however.

Almost as soon as the bans were posted for John and Elizabeth's engagement, Josiah had demanded that she begin to sew him an entirely new suit for the wedding, complete with a silken cravat and intricate embroidery. He also intended to see to it that the guests (his guests, as he saw them) could make no complaints as to his hospitality. Elizabeth had been upon her feet in their small kitchen nearly half the night, preparing the food for the dinner that was modest, but nevertheless no small task for her to do in addition to the rest of her chores. It would be an equally modest sized group; her father, the Proctors, the Nurses, Giles and Martha Corey, Thomas and Ann Putnam, and Reverend Swift. That was of little matter to Josiah though; there would be three of the most revered, powerful, and not to mention wealthy families in all of Salem at his table that night, and he intended to flatter and accommodate them as best as he was able.

Elizabeth walked over to her bedroom window, slowly lowering herself down into the chair placed just below the pane. She looked outside at the horizon that became more and more eclipsed by the approaching sunrise. She didn't know how everything had happened so fast, how everything had finally come to this day. There had been a time when she thought that she would be elated to be leaving the oppressive grip of her father's household- but now that the day had finally come, she had no sense of the peace or calm that she was usually able to call upon and use to settle herself.

A knock came at the door. "Enter." she called, then looked over just in time to see Josiah enter the room. He was dressed in the suit that she had made for him. Elizabeth fought back the urge to grimace at the sight of her father. It was obvious that he had grown in girth since the last time she had measured him for the cut and fit of the clothing, even though it was a mere four months ago. The buttons of his shirt strained at the paunch of his belly, the sleeves squeezed too tightly at his arms, and Josiah's breaths came heavy and unevenly, as if the clothes were making it difficult for him to be breathe.

Elizabeth waited, her face a mask of serene civility (even if that wasn't what she felt), "Father."

"Elizabeth." he nodded at her briskly, "I trust you are ready. We shall be departing for the Proctors within the hour."

"I am, Father."

"Before we depart there are some important matters that I wish to discuss with you. You are to be leaving this house for the house of your husband within a matter of moments. I hope that you are prepared for new responsibilities that your marriage will require."

"I am, Father." she repeated.

"I am aware that since your mother's death you have had very little guidance in...feminine matters." he finished awkwardly, "And I did not choose to select a new wife for which to aid you in your understanding of them as you grew. I must confess that there are times when I worry that that was a mistake. But that is neither here nor there now. What is most important is that you understand what will be expected of you in your marriage."

He walked closer to her, clasping his hands behind his back. "You are no doubt aware that the Proctors are one of the more elite families in Salem. Abel and his brothers were always proud- just as proud as their father was before them. The entire clan have always been proud- proud of their land, of their wealth, of their long heritage. It is a grievous fault, but it is nevertheless one for which they remain un-chastised and un-reprimanded. What is more, because of their power and position, it is likely remain so. I know that I brought you up in all humility and modesty, but it is imperative that you understand the difference in the family you are about to enter. The Proctors are not humble, Elizabeth. Neither are they modest: they are proud. They will expect much from you, but above all they will expect that you do nothing to threaten or lessen the honor and pride that they've built up for their family name. As the wife of the only son and heir, your honor and name must be above reproach in the village. There must be no gossip, no scandal that can ever possibly be traced back to you. You must guard the dignity of your person and your family as if it were more precious than gold. Do you understand?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, Father."

"I hope that you are also cognizant of the impression that your behavior as a wife will also leave upon my own name and character. The effectiveness of my instruction and guidance as your father will also be held up to scrutiny. I pray you never forget that above all."

She might have known. For all of his words, Elizabeth was aware that this was Josiah's main and primary concern for her marriage to John Proctor- that she do nothing to bring him the slightest bit of embarrassment or shame. "I would never do anything that might discredit you in the least, Father." she replied steadily, "I will be a good, virtuous wife to Mr. Proctor. I will maintain the honor and reputation their family has built, and that you require at any cost. I swear it."

Josiah nodded, seeming satisfied, "I trust that you will do just that, my daughter. I trust that you will."

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocence, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church-"

John stood straight and erect, looking straight ahead of him. He struggled to concentrate on the clergyman's words and remain solely focused upon the momentous occasion at hand, but he still found his thoughts wandering as always. Outside, he could see that the sun was shining brightly, casting warm rays of light into the room and creating an almost luminiscent glow on both the crown of Reverend Swift's bald head, and the wooden crucifix hanging on the wall.

If only he could have had one final day. One more day to think. One more day with which to prepare, to ready himself. One final day before becoming a husband.

"... Therefore is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men's carnal lusts and appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God; duly considering the causes for which Matrimony was ordained."

The words seemed to take on a life of their own from the minister's lips and engulf John like the blustering winds in the fields during the autumn season. The room felt as though it were growing smaller and smaller, all fresh air being sucked out of it and being left with only a hot and stuffy atmosphere. He could feel the eyes of guests of his wedding fixed upon his back, including that of his parents. Elizabeth Kilbourne stood at his right hand. Reverend Swift and The effigy of Christ were stationed in front of him. John was surrounded at all sides, at every turn.

Trapped.

"First, It was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy Name."

John shut his eyes. It was difficult enough for him to fully process that he was to become a husband within a few mere moments without even attempting to imagine him becoming a father. But it was something that would undoubtedly have to come eventually. He and Elizabeth weren't in love; they scarcely even knew one another. Without love, friendship, or any type of emotional bond between them, what else could there be but children to bind their marriage together?

Reverend Swift was continuing, "...Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace."

John opened his eyes and pointedly fixed his gaze upon the crucifix on the wall, as if willing the figure of Christ to look at or speak to him. He had managed to come to this moment thus far resolved, but suddenly, at this crucial moment, he felt an irrepressible feeling of uncertainty and doubt.

Is this truly right? He silently asked the effigy, Is this your will?

There was no answer from above; no lightning, no thunder, no voice. The entire room was filled with nothing but absolute silence.

Was this to be his 'sign' from God? Was this to be his only answer? Was he supposed to take the silence for approval and confirmation, or for disaproval and a warning?

John was still pondering this, when the words came from Reverend Swift that made all time stand still:

"I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful."

John could hear his heart pounding in his ears- it seemed impossible that Reverend Swift could look upon him so calmly- surely he, surely every other guest in the room, must have heard the thundering beat of his pulse. He wondered if his thoughts were written upon his face or peering out of his eyes:

I do not love her...I do not know her...I fear that I never will...

He could not help himself; John moved his head ever so slightly, and managed to steal a quick glance at the woman standing beside him. Elizabeth stood straight and tall, her posture almost rigidly erect. There was no betrayal of any kind of emotion on her face that he could see or make out. It was almost as if she were a soldier in the Lord's army, going to into the heat of battle.

She said nothing.

Reverend Swift locked eyes with him, "John Proctor, wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

John's mouth felt dry and constricted. His heart continued to pound wildly and sweat had begun to form beneath his armpits. But there was nothing he could do about any of that- the final moment had come. There was no going back now. It was time.

"I will." he replied hoarsely.

"Elizabeth Kilbourne," the cleric went on, "Wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

Elizabeth's voice was steady and clear, "I will."

John stole another glance at her, resisting the urge to shake his head in bewilderment. How calm and composed she looked. So completely serene. How was it that she could appear so? Could it be that that was actually how she felt? Was there truly no anxiety or fear hidden behind those gray eyes?

Reverend Swift looked past the two of them, calling out, "Who giveth this Woman to be married to this Man?"

Josiah Kilbourne ambled his portly torso up a step or two, ceremoniously raising up the right hand of his daughter as if he were one of the three wise men offering their gifts to Joseph, Mary and the Christ child,

"I do." he announced, his voice mired with pompous authority. John stared at the sheen of sweat stains already formed on his father in law's shirt, and the white flecks of spittle at the corners of his mouth, thinking that the old man looked obscene. Then his eyes went to the right hand of Elizabeth that Josiah was still outstretching to him. He slipped his hand over it, his first three fingers just barely touching the first three of her own hand. Despite the lightness of her touch, he was still able to feel the coolness of her skin.

The reverend addressed him again, "I bid thee repeat after me: I, John Proctor take thee Elizabeth Kilbourne to my wedded Wife."

John turned a little to face Elizabeth, inwardly hoping that his face was as resolute and blank as hers,"I... John Proctor, take thee Elizabeth Kilbourne... to my wedded Wife."

The words of remainder of the vow followed, each one making John feel weaker and weaker with the weightiness and obligation that they bound him to. God would forever require him to have, and hold this woman. Whether they were in good or in bad circumstances with one another, whether they were rich or poor, whether they were sick or healthy; God would hold him responsible and expect him to love and cherish Elizabeth.

Reverend Swift turned to Elizabeth, "Woman, I bid thee to repeat after me: I Elizabeth Kilbourne take thee John Proctor to my wedded Husband."

Elizabeth obeyed, giving her vow as steadily and calmly as ever, "I Elizabeth Kilbourne take thee John Proctor to my wedded Husband..."

John searched her face intently as she recited the rest of the vow. Her gaze did not meet his as she spoke, and her eyes were downcast, almost as if she were praying to God rather than making him a vow. He remained so focused upon watching her facial expression that he briefly lost track of the ceremony. It wasn't until Reverend Swift cleared his throat and surreptitiously gestured towards Elizabeth's hand that John realized what he was supposed to be doing next.

The thin wedding band rested on the open pages of the clergyman's Bible. John reached out to retrieve it, then proceeded to slide it on Elizabeth's slender fourth finger. "With this ring..." he murmured, his voice still hoarse, "I thee wed. With my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly Goods I thee endow...In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

The limpness in his legs made John grateful for the next part of the ceremony, where he and Elizabeth were required to kneel down together while Reverend Swift performed the closing prayer,

"O Eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, Giver of all spiritual grace, the Author of everlasting life; Send thy blessing upon these thy servants, this Man and this Woman, whom we bless in thy Name..."

In his mind, John had commenced to beginning a prayer of his own,

I do not profess to being in any great understanding of you, Lord. I am not a man in any possession of divine revelation or enlightenment. I am not a saint...But I do wish to do your will. I wish to live a decent life. I wish to be a good man who acts uprightly. I am a humble man who asks nothing of you but this: that you give me the strength and ability to do what is necessary and expected of me in this marriage.

"Those whom God hath joined together," revered Swift pronounced solemnly, "Let no man put asunder."

As he and Elizabeth's hands were once more joined together, John studied her again, his expression somber but resigned,

I do not love her, Lord. But with your grace and through your mercy...I pray you instruct me that I may care for her, as Christ cares for your church. Help me to be a proper husband and provider for her. Let me grow to love her.

"For as much as this man and this woman have consented together in holy Wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost...Amen."

The guests in the room all echoed in unanimous response, "Amen."

John closed his eyes, letting out a quiet, but shaky breath from his lungs.

It was done. There could be no going back now. All was final. Settled.

Come what may, he and Elizabeth were married. Forever.