English
ArthurDimmesdalegazedintoHester’sfacewithalookinwhichhopeandjoyshoneout,indeed,butwithfearbetwixtthem,andakindofhorroratherboldness,whohadspokenwhathevaguelyhintedat,butdarednotspeak.
ButHesterPrynne,withamindofnativecourageandactivity,andforsolongaperiodnotmerelyestranged,butoutlawedfromsociety,hadhabituatedherselftosuchlatitudeofspeculationaswasaltogetherforeigntotheclergyman.
Shehadwandered,withoutruleorguidance,inamoralwilderness,asvast,asintricate,andshadowyastheuntamedforest,amidthegloomofwhichtheywerenowholdingacolloquythatwastodecidetheirfate.
Herintellectandhearthadtheirhome,asitwere,indesertplaces,wheresheroamedasfreelyasthewildIndianinhiswoods.
Foryearspastshehadlookedfromthisestrangedpointofviewathumaninstitutions,andwhateverpriestsorlegislatorshadestablished;criticisingallwithhardlymorereverencethantheIndianwouldfeelfortheclericalband,thejudicialrobe,thepillory,thegallows,thefireside,orthechurch.
Thetendencyofherfateandfortuneshadbeentosetherfree.
Thescarletletterwasherpassportintoregionswhereotherwomendarednottread.Shame,Despair,Solitude!
Thesehadbeenherteachers—sternandwildones—andtheyhadmadeherstrong,buttaughthermuchamiss.
Theminister,ontheotherhand,hadnevergonethroughanexperiencecalculatedtoleadhimbeyondthescopeofgenerallyreceivedlaws;although,inasingleinstance,hehadsofearfullytransgressedoneofthemostsacredofthem.
Butthishadbeenasinofpassion,notofprinciple,norevenpurpose.
Sincethatwretchedepoch,hehadwatchedwithmorbidzealandminuteness,nothisacts—forthoseitwaseasytoarrange—buteachbreathofemotion,andhiseverythought.
Attheheadofthesocialsystem,astheclergymenofthatdaystood,hewasonlythemoretrammelledbyitsregulations,itsprinciples,andevenitsprejudices.
Asapriest,theframeworkofhisorderinevitablyhemmedhimin.
Asamanwhohadoncesinned,butwhokepthisconscienceallaliveandpainfullysensitivebythefrettingofanunhealedwound,hemighthavebeensupposedsaferwithinthelineofvirtuethanifhehadneversinnedatall.
Thusweseemtoseethat,asregardedHesterPrynne,thewholesevenyearsofoutlawandignominyhadbeenlittleotherthanapreparationforthisveryhour.ButArthurDimmesdale!
Weresuchamanoncemoretofall,whatpleacouldbeurgedinextenuationofhiscrime?
None;unlessitavailhimsomewhatthathewasbroker,downbylongandexquisitesuffering;thathismindwasdarkenedandconfusedbytheveryremorsewhichharrowedit;that,betweenfleeingasanavowedcriminal,andremainingasahypocrite,consciencemightfindithardtostrikethebalance;thatitwashumantoavoidtheperilofdeathandinfamy,andtheinscrutablemachinationsofanenemy;that,finally,tothispoorpilgrim,onhisdrearyanddesertpath,faint,sick,miserable,thereappearedaglimpseofhumanaffectionandsympathy,anewlife,andatrueone,inexchangefortheheavydoomwhichhewasnowexpiating.
Andbethesternandsadtruthspoken,thatthebreachwhichguilthasoncemadeintothehumansoulisnever,inthismortalstate,repaired.
Itmaybewatchedandguarded,sothattheenemyshallnotforcehiswayagainintothecitadel,andmighteveninhissubsequentassaults,selectsomeotheravenue,inpreferencetothatwherehehadformerlysucceeded.
Butthereisstilltheruinedwall,andnearitthestealthytreadofthefoethatwouldwinoveragainhisunforgottentriumph.
Thestruggle,iftherewereone,neednotbedescribed.Letitsufficethattheclergymanresolvedtoflee,andnotalone.
“Ifinallthesepastsevenyears,”thoughthe,“Icouldrecalloneinstantofpeaceorhope,1wouldyetendure,forthesakeofthatearnestofHeaven’smercy.
Butnow—sinceIamirrevocablydoomed—whereforeshouldInotsnatchthesolaceallowedtothecondemnedculpritbeforehisexecution?
Or,ifthisbethepathtoabetterlife,asHesterwouldpersuademe,Isurelygiveupnofairerprospectbypursuingit!
NeithercanIanylongerlivewithouthercompanionship;sopowerfulisshetosustain—sotendertosoothe!
OThoutowhomIdarenotliftmineeyes,wiltThouyetpardonme?”
“Thouwiltgo!”saidHestercalmly,ashemetherglance.
Thedecisiononcemade,aglowofstrangeenjoymentthrewitsflickeringbrightnessoverthetroubleofhisbreast.
Itwastheexhilaratingeffect—uponaprisonerjustescapedfromthedungeonofhisownheart—ofbreathingthewild,freeatmosphereofanunredeemed,unchristianised,lawlessregionHisspiritrose,asitwere,withabound,andattainedanearerprospectofthesky,thanthroughoutallthemiserywhichhadkepthimgrovellingontheearth.
Ofadeeplyreligioustemperament,therewasinevitablyatingeofthedevotionalinhismood.
“DoIfeeljoyagain?”criedhe,wonderingathimself.
“Methoughtthegermofitwasdeadinme!Oh,Hester,thouartmybetterangel!
Iseemtohaveflungmyself—sick,sin–stained,andsorrow–blackened—downupontheseforestleaves,andtohaverisenupallmadeanew,andwithnewpowerstoglorifyHimthathathbeenmerciful!Thisisalreadythebetterlife!Whydidwenotfinditsooner?”
“Letusnotlookback,”answeredHesterPrynne.“Thepastisgone!Whereforeshouldwelingeruponitnow?See!WiththissymbolIundoitall,andmakeitasifithadneverbeen!”
Sospeaking,sheundidtheclaspthatfastenedthescarletletter,and,takingitfromherbosom,threwittoadistanceamongthewitheredleaves.
Themystictokenalightedonthehithervergeofthestream.
Withahand’s–breadthfurtherflight,itwouldhavefallenintothewater,andhavegive,thelittlebrookanotherwoetocarryonward,besidestheunintelligibletalewhichitstillkeptmurmuringabout.
Buttherelaytheembroideredletter,glitteringlikealostjewel,whichsomeill–fatedwanderermightpickup,andthenceforthbehauntedbystrangephantomsofguilt,sinkingsoftheheart,andunaccountablemisfortune.
Thestigmagone,Hesterheavedalong,deepsigh,inwhichtheburdenofshameandanguishdepartedfromherspirit.Oexquisiterelief!
Shehadnotknowntheweightuntilshefeltthefreedom!
Byanotherimpulse,shetookofftheformalcapthatconfinedherhair,anddownitfelluponhershoulders,darkandrich,withatonceashadowandalightinitsabundance,andimpartingthecharmofsoftnesstoherfeatures.
Thereplayedaroundhermouth,andbeamedoutofhereyes,aradiantandtendersmile,thatseemedgushingfromtheveryheartofwomanhood.
Acrimsonflushwasglowingonhercheek,thathadbeenlongsopale.
Hersex,heryouth,andthewholerichnessofherbeauty,camebackfromwhatmencalltheirrevocablepast,andclusteredthemselveswithhermaidenhope,andahappinessbeforeunknown,withinthemagiccircleofthishour.
And,asifthegloomoftheearthandskyhadbeenbuttheeffluenceofthesetwomortalhearts,itvanishedwiththeirsorrow.
Allatonce,aswithasuddensmileofheaven,forthburstthesunshine,pouringaveryfloodintotheobscureforest,gladdeningeachgreenleaf,transmutingtheyellowfallenonestogold,andgleamingadownthegraytrunksofthesolemntrees.
Theobjectsthathadmadeashadowhitherto,embodiedthebrightnessnow.
Thecourseofthelittlebrookmightbetracedbyitsmerrygleamafarintothewood’sheartofmystery,whichhadbecomeamysteryofjoy.
SuchwasthesympathyofNature—thatwild,heathenNatureoftheforest,neversubjugatedbyhumanlaw,norilluminedbyhighertruth—withtheblissofthesetwospirits!
Love,whethernewly–born,orarousedfromadeath–likeslumber,mustalwayscreateasunshine,fillingtheheartsofullofradiance,thatitoverflowsupontheoutwardworld.
Hadtheforeststillkeptitsgloom,itwouldhavebeenbrightinHester’seyes,andbrightinArthurDimmesdale’s!
Hesterlookedathimwithathrillofanotherjoy.
“ThoumustknowPearl!”saidshe.“OurlittlePearl!Thouhastseenher—yes,Iknowit!
—butthouwiltseehernowwithothereyes.Sheisastrangechild!Ihardlycomprehendher!
Butthouwiltloveherdearly,asIdo,andwiltadvisemehowtodealwithher!”
“Dostthouthinkthechildwillbegladtoknowme?”askedtheminister,somewhatuneasily.
“Ihavelongshrunkfromchildren,becausetheyoftenshowadistrust—abackwardnesstobefamiliarwithme.
IhaveevenbeenafraidoflittlePearl!”
“Ah,thatwassad!”answeredthemother.“Butshewilllovetheedearly,andthouher.Sheisnotfaroff.Iwillcallher.Pearl!Pearl!”
“Iseethechild,”observedtheminister.“Yondersheis,standinginastreakofsunshine,agoodwayoff,ontheothersideofthebrook.Sothouthinkestthechildwillloveme?”
Hestersmiled,andagaincalledtoPearl,whowasvisibleatsomedistance,astheministerhaddescribedher,likeabright–apparelledvisioninasunbeam,whichfelldownuponherthroughanarchofboughs.
Therayquiveredtoandfro,makingherfiguredimordistinct—nowlikearealchild,nowlikeachild’sspirit—asthesplendourwentandcameagain.
Sheheardhermother’svoice,andapproachedslowlythroughtheforest.
Pearlhadnotfoundthehourpasswearisomelywhilehermothersattalkingwiththeclergyman.
Thegreatblackforest—sternasitshoweditselftothosewhobroughttheguiltandtroublesoftheworldintoitsbosom—becametheplaymateofthelonelyinfant,aswellasitknewhow.
Sombreasitwas,itputonthekindestofitsmoodstowelcomeher.
Itofferedherthepartridge–berries,thegrowthoftheprecedingautumn,butripeningonlyinthespring,andnowredasdropsofblooduponthewitheredleaves.
ThesePearlgathered,andwaspleasedwiththeirwildflavour.
Thesmalldenizensofthewildernesshardlytookpainstomoveoutofherpath.
Apartridge,indeed,withabroodoftenbehindher,ranforwardthreateningly,butsoonrepentedofherfierceness,andcluckedtoheryoungonesnottobeafraid.
Apigeon,aloneonalowbranch,allowedPearltocomebeneath,andutteredasoundasmuchofgreetingasalarm.
Asquirrel,fromtheloftydepthsofhisdomestictree,chatteredeitherinangerormerriment—forthesquirrelissuchacholericandhumorouslittlepersonage,thatitishardtodistinguishbetweenhismoods—sohechatteredatthechild,andflungdownanutuponherhead.
Itwasalastyear’snut,andalreadygnawedbyhissharptooth.
Afox,startledfromhissleepbyherlightfootstepontheleaves,lookedinquisitivelyatPearl,asdoubtingwhetheritwerebettertostealoff,orrenewhisnaponthesamespot.
Awolf,itissaid—butherethetalehassurelylapsedintotheimprobable—cameupandsmeltofPearl’srobe,andofferedhissavageheadtobepattedbyherhand.
Thetruthseemstobe,however,thatthemother–forest,andthesewildthingswhichitnourished,allrecognizedakindredwildernessinthehumanchild.
Andshewasgentlerherethaninthegrassy–marginedstreetsofthesettlement,orinhermother’scottage.
TheBowersappearedtoknowit,andoneandanotherwhisperedasshepassed,“Adornthyselfwithme,thoubeautifulchild,adornthyselfwithme!”
—and,topleasethem,Pearlgatheredtheviolets,andanemones,andcolumbines,andsometwigsofthefreshestgreen,whichtheoldtreeshelddownbeforehereyes.
Withtheseshedecoratedherhairandheryoungwaist,andbecameanymphchild,oraninfantdryad,orwhateverelsewasinclosestsympathywiththeantiquewood.
InsuchguisehadPearladornedherself,whensheheardhermother’svoice,andcameslowlyback.
Slowly—forshesawtheclergyman!
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