A young girl of about twenty.
A pastor of about fifty.
We are in colonial Massachusetts circa 1690.
The young girl bounds on to the stage running in horrified grief. She wails and cries, howls and trembles, screams into the air and then slowly composes herself looking straight out into the audience in a wordless plea to God.
Enter the Pastor behind her. He is wearing a black veil over his face but soon removes it as he begins to speak. The two never make eye contact. Instead he remains a few steps behind her at all times.