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THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE'S 
 
 SCARLET LETTER, 
 
 DRAMATIZED. 
 
 A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS. 
 
 BY 
 
 ELIZABETH WELLER 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 Feanklin Peess: Rand, Aveky, & Co. 
 
 1876. 
 
cj. lo 
 
 ^ 
 
 Copyright, 1876, 
 
 BY ELIZABETH WELLER PECK. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 Hestkr Pkynne, Wife of Roger Chillingvvorth. 
 
 Arthur DnniEbDALE, Clergyman. 
 
 Roger Chillingworth, Doctor. 
 
 Pearl, Daughter of Hester Prynne. 
 
 Rev. John Wilson. 
 
 Governor Bellingham. 
 
 Countrymen, Citizens, Witch, Beadle, and Jailer. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene I. —The Stage represents the front of Boston 
 Prison in early Colonial times. Men and 
 women stand waiting (one ivith an infant in 
 her arms) till the Beadle shall herald Hester's 
 coming. 
 
 Dame Lawton. 
 
 I 'm hearty; thanks, good neighbor. 
 
 I walked me to the town : 
 
 'Tis rare such sights to see, else I'd not come. 
 
 We women of the country, who thriftly labor, 
 
 Can but wonder that any woman findeth time to sin : 
 
6 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 It provetli well the adage true, — 
 
 " That Satan findeth work for idle hands to do." 
 
 Dame Hekndox. 
 
 True, true ; and yet there be 
 
 Some who claim her never idle. Her defty fingers 
 
 Did daint}^ broideries do, that she bestowed in charity ; 
 
 And soft-hearted folk do hold it forth 
 
 In palliation, that she be not entirely wrong. 
 
 And come not here to see her taste 
 
 The bitter fruit her hand did gather. 
 
 My man, in effort to dissuade, in anger grew. 
 
 And rated soundly that women gloried in dishonor. 
 
 I glory that justice be done. 
 
 Would that my will the punishment might give ! 
 
 I'd hold the law clean to the text. 
 
 And hang the woman 'twixt heaven and earth. 
 
 Dame Fales. 
 
 \_A young wife %vith haby in her arms, laying 
 her hand on Dame Herndon's plead- 
 ingly, and Interrupting her.] 
 
 Be not so wroth ! Some pity show ! 
 
 My breast, which bears my first-born's tender weight, 
 
 Can pity tliis unblest maternity. 
 
 Dame Hekxdox. 
 
 Ay ! But thou wert ever a tender-hearted wench, 
 And in your own white purity 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. i 
 
 Didst slowly credit Mistress Hester's shame : 
 Her child shrieked out her black dishonor 
 Ere thou a censure didst bestow. E'en then you wept 
 to blame. 
 
 Dame Fales. 
 
 I could but weep : \_clasping her hahy tenderly~\ 
 Motherhood to me such sweet joys gave 
 That I can pity one who holdeth in dishonor 
 The crowning glory of a woman's life. 
 Ay, my deepest soul with sorrow keen is stirred. 
 This moment I could weep ; but tears disturb 
 The nurse my pretty babe doth claim : 
 For him I do refrain. 
 
 Dame Herndon. 
 
 Thy pit}^ I can well respect ; 
 
 But in my soul I do despise 
 
 The mercy of these God-fearing magistrates, 
 
 Who will not brand a face that God made fair, 
 
 Kor break a neck made white and long. 
 
 Had Mistress Hester been but plain, 
 
 The law would not have felt this strain. 
 
 And honest women been avenged. 
 
 Our old code did read, To death the adulteress give : 
 
 Why spare this pretty mistress ? 
 
 Dame Bond. 
 
 I'll tell you a piece of my mind : — 
 
 Greatly for the public weal, that we of mature years, 
 
8 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Church-members all of good repute, 
 Into such hands the law should give 
 The judgment of such malefactress. 
 We bear the reputation of our sex : 
 'Tis meet its punishment bestow. 
 
 Husband of Dame Bond. 
 
 Ye have more to forgive than sin : 
 
 She hath beauty and 3'outh for her blame : 
 
 My good wife won't forget, — not she ! 
 
 Dame Bond. 
 
 What think ye, women ? — 
 
 Would Mistress Hester move our pity more 
 
 That she be fair? Beauty maketh men so merciful! 
 
 It shall not touch our hearts. 
 
 All womanhood one voice should cry, — 
 
 Death, death, to the adulteress ! 
 
 Dame Herndon. 
 
 Thou speakest rightly. A wholesome fear of the 
 
 gallows 
 Tends much to strengthen woman's purity. 
 
 Townsman. 
 
 Out upon thee for a defamer of thy sex ! 
 Has woman no purity save that which springs 
 From fear of death or shame ? 
 Must we be taught by woman 
 
 That pure womanhood, from love of soul-clean ne<jis, be 
 dead ? 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 9 
 
 Dame Hern d ox. 
 
 Nay, nay ! thou art too fast. 
 
 But I'm aweary of this disputation. 
 
 Even as m^^ soul's aweary, so is my body : 
 
 I've waited since the sun uprose. 
 
 Why comes she not ? Shall honest people patient 
 
 stand 
 While iufamy shall deck itself? 
 
 TOWXSMAN. ' 
 
 Ay, gossip! hold thy tongue: 
 She quicldy comes. Your deepest malice 
 Scarce could wish her punishment more keen 
 Tiian through the hateful, sneering crowd to tread, 
 Bearing on breast and arm the symbol and proof of 
 shame. 
 
 woman ! tliat bravely bears and dies 
 For love and faith, know not one pang 
 Of pity and regret when shame upon 
 A sister's face is set. 
 
 ScEXE II. — The prison door opens. Hester comes 
 out hearlnr/ herbahe upon her arm ; on her breast 
 a Scarlet Letter, ornamented. The Beadle her- 
 alds her coming. 
 
 Beadle. 
 Make way, make way ! in our good king's name. 
 
 1 promise you all, both men and women. 
 
 And children small, a sight of her brave attire. 
 
10 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Till the midda}" sun shall shine 
 
 In the market-place shall stand 
 
 Mistress Prynne, her babe, and her Scarlet Letter. 
 
 A blessing on this righteous colonj^, Massachusetts ! 
 
 — So come along ! 
 
 Dame Herndox. 
 
 Saw 3'ou ever such brazenness ? 
 The hussy to flaunt in the face of our magistrates 
 Her shame as an ornamentation ! 
 
 Dame Bond. 
 I'd have her gown so fine stripped off 
 Her dainty shoulders, and raiment coarse instead. 
 In place of her scarlet beauty, 
 My old rheumatic flannel should tell 
 How worthless her reputation. 
 
 Dame Hekxdox. 
 But she has stitched and stitched 
 It cunningly, in truth. 
 She makes a worship of her degradation. 
 She merits well her garments torn, 
 Her back well lashed, till ribbed its whiteness. 
 
 Dame Bond. 
 
 She does bravely wear it. 
 
 Dame Tales. 
 Oh, peace, good neiglibors, peace ! 
 Not so loud ! Misery makes the hearing clear. 
 Not one stitch in all that fancy broidered letter 
 But struck her soul in agony. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. H 
 
 ScEXE III. — Hesteii ?/?,o?«/z^.s- the scaffold. Crowd 
 of pco-ple look on. A stranger accompanied by 
 an Indian approacJi.es, and stands with the 
 crowd. He lays his hand on a townsman'' s 
 shoulder, and pjoints his finger in inquiry at 
 Hester. 
 
 EoCxEIl. 
 
 Good sir, who ia this woman, pray ? 
 And wlierefore set to public sliaine ? 
 
 Townsman. 
 You needs must be a stranger in these parts. 
 If you know not of Mistress Hester Prynne, 
 And of her evil doing. 
 A heavy scandal hath she raised, 
 
 And sorely tried the flock of goodl\' Master Dimmes- 
 dale. 
 
 [Scanning him closely, and. his Indian coni- 
 panion. 
 
 Eoger Chillingworth. 
 I am a stranger, — you truly speak, — 
 And wander 'gainst my will; 
 Grievous mishaps by sea and land ; 
 Held long in bondage 'mong heathen folks, 
 Till from the southward hither brought 
 
 \JiIotions towards the Indian. 
 To be redeemed from ni}'- captivity. 
 But tell me of this woman. 
 Of her offences. Detail, sparing nought, 
 
12 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 E'en tliongli my sonl it sicken, 
 And rend tlie faitli I held in woman. 
 Speak, man and friend : an eager listener I. 
 
 TOWXSMAX. 
 
 Methinks your heart it gladdens. 
 
 From perils freed, to reach a land where sin is pun- 
 ished 
 Jn sight of rulers and of people. 
 Ay ! brave New Ertgland holds a godly people, 
 Whose hands do quickly grasp at justice. 
 Yonder woman, wedded to a certain learned man, 
 English by birth, did live in Amsterdam. 
 Some time agone he minded to cross him over, 
 And cast his lot with us of Massachusetts. 
 Necessary aifairs compelled him to remain. 
 His wife preceding him, 
 And dwelling 'mong us for two years past. 
 No tidings came of this learned gentleman. 
 His wife, look you ! 
 Being to her own misguidance. 
 
 Roger. 
 Ah ! ah ! I conceive you. 
 By your favor, sir, who may the father be 
 Of yonder babe ? 
 
 Townsman. 
 Of the truth, my friend, that reraaineth still a riddle. 
 The Daniel that shall expound is still a-wanting. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 13 
 
 Madam Hester's firm prond lips have not parted, 
 
 And at their silence sorely are the magistrates taxed. 
 
 Peradventure even now the guilty one 
 
 Looks on this spectacle 
 
 Unknown, unshunned, and uncondemned of men, 
 
 Oblivious that God sees, and retribution cometh 
 
 For sins that lie bitter to his consciejice unconfessed. 
 
 EOGER. 
 
 The learned man should come 
 To look into this mystery. 
 
 Townsman. 
 
 It behooves him well — if still in life. 
 
 Our Massachusetts magistracy 
 
 Bethink themselves that she were young and fair. 
 
 And tempted in her fall. 
 
 The extremitj^ of our righteous law, 
 
 And penalty thereof, is death. 
 
 In their mercy, and great tenderness, 
 
 They doomed this Mistress Prynne 
 
 To stand for five hours upon the platform of the 
 
 pillory. 
 And then, and ever after the remainder of her life. 
 To wear the mark of shame upon her breast. 
 
 EOGER. 
 
 A wise sentence. 
 
 Thus she will ever be a living sermon 
 
 On the sin that stamped her bosom's scarlet in. 
 
14 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 It irks nio inucli. tlio partner of licr i::nilt 
 
 Stands not on yondor scalKold's licii^lit. 
 
 Jle will bo known ! He will be known ! 
 
 \_BoH''in(j coitrteoush/, with a irord to //is 
 IiuViai) ('onfj)(f)n'on, he moves tlirough the 
 crowd towards the scaffold. The gov- 
 ernor of the State, Magistrates, Clergy- 
 wen ; among them, the Rkv. Father 
 Wilson old and stern, and Mr. Dim- 
 MKSDALE. They sit in a balcony above 
 the scaffold. 
 
 WiLSOX. 
 
 Hearken unto me, Hester Prynne ! 
 I have striven with my youn<:j brother, 
 
 [^Lays his h<ind on Mr. Dimmesdalk's 
 shoulder. 
 I have souglit and do persuade 
 This godly youth lie deal with you 
 Here in the face of lieaven 
 And these honest upright people. 
 I do entreat he speak to 3'ou 
 Upon the vileness of your sin. 
 Knowing j'-our natural temper 
 Better far than I, lie may the better judge 
 What argument to use, of tenderness or terror, 
 As might prevail against your hardness. 
 Insoinucli you do no longer 
 Hide the ])artner of 3'our shame. 
 But he denies me with his over-softness, — 
 
THE SCARLET LETTETi. 15 
 
 AlVjoit wise beyond liis yf^ars, — 
 And says it wrongs tlie vory nature of tlio woman 
 To force her bare her bosom's secret 
 To the day's broad liglit and tlie assembled multitude. 
 I have sought to prove the sin lay in commission, 
 Not in showing forth. 
 
 What say, once again, my brother Dimmesdale? — 
 Shall it be you, or I, that deal with this poor sinners 
 soul ? 
 
 Gov. Bkllingiiam. 
 
 Most worthy Master Dimmesdale, 
 
 This woman's soul lies well with you 
 
 Her pastor and adviser: 
 
 It behooves you to exhort hei- to repent, — 
 
 Confess as proof and consequence thereof 
 
 Wilson. 
 
 ]\Iy brothf-r, speak unto this woman ! 
 
 'Tis of njoment to her soul : 
 
 Our most worshipful governor says. 
 
 Momentous to thine own, who hold this charge : 
 
 Exhort her to the truth ! 
 
 IJIMMKSDAL?:. 
 
 Hester Prynne, thou hearest what this good man 
 
 sayest, 
 Thou seest how great mine own accountability. 
 If it be for thy soul's peace 
 And that thy earthly punishment 
 
16 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Be effectual to salvation, 
 
 I cliarge thee speak out thy fellow-sinner's, 
 
 Thy fellow-sufferer's name. 
 
 Have no mistaken pity ! 
 
 Hester, believe me, did he step 
 
 From high places to thy pedestal of shame, 
 
 It were better so than struggle with a sin 
 
 That, un atoned hj free confession. 
 
 Would sap the strength of life. 
 
 And prey upon the vital spark 
 
 Till the maddened soul within 
 
 Would rush in vain remorse 
 
 To suicidal death and hell's enduring flames. 
 
 Th}^ silence wrongs him, 
 
 Yea, compels him to sin. 
 
 Thou hast been granted open ignominy : 
 
 Thou mayest work out an open triumph over evil. 
 
 Take heed that thou deny him not 
 
 Who mayhap is too weak, too sinful weak, 
 
 To clasp that bitter but unwholesome cup 
 
 Thou drainest to revolting lees. 
 
 I do implore thee, speak ! 
 
 [Hester shakes her head in denial. 
 
 WiLSOX. 
 
 Woman ! know you not that Heaven 
 Has limits to its mercy ? 
 Th}^ little babe does still confirm 
 The counsel thou hast heard. 
 Yet, godless, hast not heeded. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 17 
 
 Speak out the name ! 
 
 That and thy repentance may avail 
 
 To take the Scarlet Letter off thy breast. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Never ! Ye cannot take it off! 
 
 Do ye not know that this red infamy 
 
 \_Puts her hand on the letter'] Is branded in my soul ? 
 
 Kought save the grave's chill dust 
 
 Can fade the hue and color of my misery ! 
 
 J speak his name, condemn to shame — 
 
 When, all the long night through, 
 
 I pray the mighty, the forgiving Father, 
 
 To grant my sinfulness the power 
 
 To bear his agony, nor heed mine own ! 
 
 KOdER. 
 
 Speak, woman, speak ! 
 And give thy child a father. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 I will not speak ! 
 
 She may not know an earthly father; 
 
 But I will strive to early teach 
 
 My sin-born child to seek a heavenly one. 
 
 Wilson. 
 
 Once again I do command thou speakest ! 
 
 3 
 
18 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Vain are thy words ! I will not speak ! 
 
 Condemned, lost, I still do hold 
 
 My womanhood with all its heritage of grief. 
 
 Ye may hang me till my struggling members 
 
 Still in death ; ye may torture 
 
 By rack and flame : 
 
 Ye cannot ma^ke me speak 
 
 Nor bare the breast whose outward symbol 
 
 Speaks of blackest misery : 
 
 Ay, women ! grievously fallen though I be, 
 
 I yet do hold in common with ye. 
 
 The power to suffer and be still. 
 
ACT 11. 
 
 Scene I. — Night. Koger Chillingworth, at the 
 door of Hester's prison, speaks with the Jailer. 
 
 Koger Chillingworth. 
 Prithee, good friend, leave me here awhile: 
 Esculapius' art I bring. I promise thee 
 Mistress Prynne shall be more amenable 
 Than thou hast found her heretofore. 
 
 Bkrocket. 
 Nay! if your worship do but accomplish that, 
 I will own you for a man of skill indeed. 
 Verily the woman has been like one possessed ; 
 And little lack I take the lash 
 To drive out Satan. 
 
 Scene II. — He enters ; approaches a bed where 
 the child lies 7noaning. Scanning it carefully, 
 he unclasps a leathern case from liis j^erson, con- 
 taining medicine ; one of which he mingles with 
 water. 
 
 Roger Chillingworth. 
 
 My knowledge of alchemy, and sojourn with a people 
 
20 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Versed in properties of simples, have made me a 
 
 physician 
 Better than many that claim degrees. 
 Here, woman, this child is yours ; 
 She is none of mine : 
 Give her the draught with thine own hand. 
 
 Hester. 
 Wouldst thou poison my innocent babe ? 
 
 Roger Chillixgworth {lialf soothingly). 
 
 Foolish woman ! 
 
 Would I harm this misbegotten wretched babe ? 
 
 Tlie medicine is potent for good. 
 
 AVere it my cliild and thine, 
 
 I could no better. do, 
 
 \_He administers the liotion. The child sleeps. 
 Steps to Hester's side, touches her pulse, 
 and offers the cup. She draws back shud- 
 dering 1 1/. ' 
 
 Roger Chillixgworth. 
 I give not Lethe nor ^NTepenthe. 
 'Tis a potion taught me by an Indian 
 In return for lessons of mine own, 
 Old, old as Paracelsus. 
 Drink. {Fresentlng the cup^ 
 'Twill calm the swell and heaving of thy passions. 
 
 Hester. 
 I have thought of death, — prayed for it. 
 
' 'the scarlet letter. 21 
 
 Yet, if death's oblivion sleep within this cup, 
 I bid thee think again 
 Ere thou bidst me qiiaft. 
 See, e'en now, I drink. 
 
 Roger Chillingworth. 
 
 Dost tliou know me so little, Hester Prynne ? 
 
 Are my purposes so shallow ? 
 
 What scheme of vengeance do I perpetrate 
 
 If I give thee o'er to death ? 
 
 For death be rest and peace ; 
 
 And life be torture and endurance. 
 
 Ay, live to bear thy blazing shame. 
 
 \_Lajjs his finger on the letter. 
 Live to bear thy doom 
 In the eyes of scorning men and women, 
 In the eyes of him tliou callest husband, 
 In the eyes of yonder child. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Why taunt me with my infamy ? 
 Hath not my sin found me out ? 
 Lies not my future black and wasted ? 
 Its passions dead and soulless, save 
 The pure springs of mother -love. 
 That, welling from a fountain foul, 
 Shall taint m}^ one lone joy ? 
 
 Roger Chillingworth. 
 Here, drink that thou mayest live. 
 
22 THE SCARLET LETTER. V 
 
 \_S1ie drinks at his motion ; sits on the child's 
 bed. He draws up the only chair in the 
 room, and sits near her. She trembles. 
 Hester, I do not ask wherefore or how 
 Thou fell into this pit; 
 
 Or, rather, mounted to that pinnacle of shame 
 On which I found thee. 
 My folly and thy weakness ! 
 I, a bookworm of great libraries. 
 Old, misshapen from my birth, — 
 How dared I mate with youth and beauty 
 Like thine own ? 
 
 Nay, when we walked from the old church down, . 
 
 Had I been wise, I might have seen 
 The baleful glare of thy scarlet shame. 
 
 Hester. 
 Thou knowest I did not feign to love thee. 
 I gave no pretence of a passion 
 That to my undeveloped nature had not form. 
 In childish trust I gave my hand to thee. 
 Thou wert my one friend : 
 My heart knew tender reverence. 
 But gave no quick response to thy strong passions. 
 
 EOGER ClIILLTXGWORTH. 
 
 Later, and to thy ruin, self-knowledge came. 
 
 Hester. 
 To my ruin there came a day 
 When the free hand trembled at a touch 
 
THE SCAB LET LETTER. 23 
 
 That thrilled my soul to life ; 
 
 I woke to full conception of a world 
 
 Centred in one human life. 
 
 I woke to the revelation of my being; 
 
 And my untaught instincts cried out, — 
 
 What might I bestow upon my king ! 
 
 I longed for sacrifice, that should speak 
 
 The worship that bound my will. 
 
 Why do I speak of a past 
 
 Whose days held within their fleeting span. 
 
 Such fulness of joy. of rapture, 
 
 That when the night came down, 
 
 Devastating the memory of my bliss, 
 
 I seemed within my grave ? 
 
 With dulled brain and groping hands, 
 
 I reached out to life again. 
 
 Kemorse and deadlj' fear encompassed me ; 
 
 I lay within the grave of infamy. 
 
 Why didst thou send me from thee ? 
 
 Why didst thou wed me ? 
 
 EoGER Chillixgworth. 
 
 True, true ; it was my folly, 
 
 But till that epoch of life 
 
 I seeming lived in vain. 
 
 The world had been so cheerless, 
 
 My heart held habitation for many guests, 
 
 And longed for cheer of household flame. 
 
 It was a wild dream ; 
 
 Old as I was, misshapen, grave. 
 
24 THE SCARLET LETTER, 
 
 I hoped the simple bliss 
 
 Which scattered far and wide, 
 
 All mankind may gather up, might yet be mine ; 
 
 And, Hester, in my heart I drew thee, 
 
 And sought to warm thee 
 
 By the joy thy presence gave. 
 
 Hester. 
 I have most cruel wronged thee. 
 
 Roger Chilltxgworth. 
 
 We have wronged each other. Mine was the first 
 When I betrayed thy budding youth 
 In most unnatural union with decay. 
 As one who has not pliilosophized in vain, 
 I take no thought of vengeance 'gainst thee : 
 Between thee and me the scales are fairly balanced. 
 But, Hester, he wlio has wronged us both, 
 Speak out his name ! 
 
 Hester. 
 Thou shalt never know. 
 
 E.OGER Chillixgw^orth. 
 
 Never, sayest thou? Believe me, I shall know: 
 
 Cover thy secret as thou maj^est, 
 
 I shall seek this man 
 
 As men seek truth in books. 
 
 Or gold in alchemy. 
 
 There will come a sympathy 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. ^J 
 
 That shall speak his presence. 
 
 Sooner or later he needs must be mine. 
 
 Tliou wilt not speak, none the less he be mine. 
 
 His garments bear no mark of infamy ; 
 
 But I shall read his soul. 
 
 I judge him for a man of fair repute, 
 
 Ay ; start not : 
 
 I will not lead him to the grip of human law; 
 
 Let all outward honors compass him, 
 
 I will uphold them, and leave him with his conscience 
 
 Yet none the less be he mine. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Thy words are merciful, 
 
 And 3^et they hold within them terror. 
 
 ROGEK CllILLINGWOKTlI. 
 
 Thou hast well kept the secret of th}' paramour; 
 
 Keej) likewise mine. Thou wert my wife: 
 
 Speak not to any human soul 
 
 That thou didst ever call me husband. 
 
 Wanderer as I am, and isolated from all human ties. 
 
 Here will I pitch my tent ; 
 
 For thou and thine are mine. 
 
 What matter the ligaments be love or hate ? 
 
 My home is where thou art and thy sin's abettor. 
 
 Betray me not ! 
 
 Hester. 
 Wherefore ? I like not this secret bond ; 
 Openly announce thyself, and cast me off. 
 
26 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 EoGER Chilling WORTH. 
 
 Shall I tell thee V I will not meet dishonor 
 
 That besmirches the husband of a faithless wife; 
 
 Enough, I would live and die unknown. 
 
 Thy husband is as one dead, 
 
 From whom ho tidings ever come. 
 
 Know me not by word, or sign, or look ; 
 
 Breathe not the secret to the man thou wottest of. 
 
 Shouldst thou deceive me, 
 
 His life, his fame, be in my hands. Beware ! 
 
 Hester. 
 
 I will not speak thy name or mission. 
 
 EoGER Chllixgworth. 
 Swear it. \_8he kisses the Bible, and swears. 
 \_Sarcastica.lly .'] Mistress Prynne, I leave thee 
 With thy child, thy Scarlet Letter, 
 And th}' pleasant retrospections ; 
 Doth th}'- sentence bind thee 
 To wear e'en in thy sleep thy scarlet symbol ? 
 Art thou not in terror of black dreams and nightmare ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Wh}^ dost thou smile on me ? 
 Th}' levity seemeth evil. 
 Hast thou enticed me in a bond 
 That shall ruin quite my sinl'ul soul? 
 
 KoGER Chillixgworth. 
 
 Not thy soul ; no, not thy soul. 
 
 \_Exit Roger. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 27 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Betray him ! 
 
 The grief that rends my dislioiiored breast 
 
 Is that I may not bear his agony. 
 
 \_Slts down at the table ; opening the Bible, 
 reads from the Apocrypha. 
 Oh ! Judith mourned not more lier crime 
 Or deed, than I mourn tlie life I loved 
 To fill with lengtliened vain remorse. 
 
 \Tieads again, and, looking away, sits 
 thoughtful. 
 To break from bonding thrall tlie people that she 
 
 loved, 
 To bid the fainting hearts of women cheer and hope, 
 To strengthen manly arms to deeds of valor and of 
 
 fame, 
 She trailed the whitened purity of robes unstained 
 ]^Y envy's cruel thrust, undeliled by lust or shame. 
 In leclierous pools of royal blood. 
 Bowed, crushed, she loathed the beauty 
 That in her puny hand 
 
 An instrument of vengeance God had made ; 
 Threading with quivering fingers 
 The shadowing darkness of her hair. 
 As if the ashes of atonement, poured upon her heart, 
 Had drifted o'er the soft luxuriance. 
 And left its splendor blanched to whiteness. 
 Deeds of death, and trust betrayed, change not the 
 
 face. 
 Judith's face be fair, and eyes as winsome 
 
'2S THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 As wlien tlieir pleading softness lured the heart 
 Of Holofernes, — lured him to trust and death. 
 It is a shuddering thing to smile and soothe 
 With lovingness till gentle sleep shall come, 
 And, looking on the still face, strike to death. 
 
 Judith ! this was thy deed, — dark, revolting in its 
 
 truth, 
 Yet great, heroic in its purpose. 
 To give thyself to evil, to sacrifice th^'self 
 That thy people's wrongs might know redress, 
 Doth sanctify thee. I had no wrongs. (Weeps.) 
 
 1 would not weep did I not love the man 
 
 Into whose white life I crept, to give him pain and 
 sorrow. 
 
 To gaze into the ayes that always smiled on me, 
 
 To listen to the voice so soft and tender 
 
 At my coming, was such sweet joy 
 
 That I forgot all else ; and, sinking down 
 
 Close in his heart, I made him dread 
 
 Communion with his God. 
 
 OK, agony ! To know that I have banished 
 
 Peace and joy and sweet content from out thy life, 
 
 My Scarlet Letter burns, nor tortures less. 
 
 Accurst am I ; destroying that 
 
 Which I most cherished. 
 
 [Enter Jailer. Hester stands at the open 
 window looking out : the moon is full, 
 and shines upon her face and across the 
 bed. She does not heed his entrance. 
 Whippoorwills are singing. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. ' 29 
 
 Jailer. 
 
 Mistress Hester, how may I serve you ? 
 By my soul, I tliought the woman 
 Meant madness or murder : 
 There she be as grand as any queen. 
 Truly these dark wimmen are curious. 
 
 [^He 2)auses, gazing upon her. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Methinks the moon ne'er gave so soft a light, 
 
 It seeketh not my sliame ; 
 
 It speaketh peace from its far purity, 
 
 And bids my impatient spirit rest. 
 
 For soon the blaze of day shall come 
 
 To drive me fortli with my brand of Cain. 
 
 And never while heart shall beat, 
 
 And never while the sad soul agonize, 
 
 Shall I take mine own again. 
 
 Ever a thing despised and shunned, 
 
 A creature apart from honor and fame. 
 
 Jailer. 
 
 Ay, talk away to the moon : 
 
 It be death to a woman 
 
 If nothing listen to her complainings. 
 
 I would my old wife took the cue, 
 
 And talked to the moon and whippowils ! 
 
30 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 \_Goes to the bed, and bends over the child.'] 
 Tins much of life I yet liave left. 
 My future holds but thee, my child. 
 \_Clasping it fondly. 
 Within thy frailty lies the germ of immortality, 
 And I will struggle for thy soul, 
 Though fiends should compass thee about. 
 My babe, my nameless one. 
 I call thee Pearl, my priceless pearl : 
 Did I not purchase thee with my sole treasure ? 
 Sleep on, my innocent ! 
 Too soon, too soon, to thy frail life 
 Will come the morn. \_Gazing tenderly. 
 My innocent ! I thirst to call thee ever thus, 
 For thou art innocent. \_Kneeling. 
 Heaven guard thee, sinless one of sin ! 
 
ACT III. 
 
 Scene I. — Room in Mr. Dimmesdale's house. 
 Mr. Dimmesdale ill, recUning on a couch. 
 Dr. Chillingworth attends him. An interval 
 of six years supi^osed to have elai^sed. 
 
 Dr. Chillingworth. 
 
 Honoring thee, and loving thee, thy people do en- 
 treat, 
 I bring my leech's skill and healing lotions, 
 And tempt thee back to health again. 
 Art sick in body? or in mind opprest ? 
 
 Dimmesdale. 
 
 \_TuTnincj his head wearily.'] 
 I want no healing lotion. Did God will, 
 I were content to lay my labors down. 
 
 Dr. Chillingworth. 
 
 Youthfid men take not deep root on life, 
 
 And loose their hold at pain ; 
 
 And saintly men who walk with God on earth 
 
 Fain would away to him, and tread the New Jerusalem. 
 
32 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Naj : were I worthier Heaven's eternal peace, 
 I were tlie more content to labor here. 
 
 Dk. Chillixgwokth. 
 
 Good men do ever meanly hold themselves, 
 And heavy speak their own disparagement. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 \_Taking some dark, riuik leaves fi-oni the 
 doctor'' s hand.'] 
 Where, my good doctor, do you seek 
 Such black and noisome herbs? 
 Their very form and color doth oifend the sense. 
 
 Dr. Chillingworth. 
 
 E'en in the churcliyard, quite at hand. 
 
 They grew upon a grave that bore no mark, 
 
 And did memorialize the dead. 
 
 They throve from out liis breast, and do tjqnfy 
 
 Some hideous secret buried there, 
 
 That, unconfessed, they hold in black remembrance. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Perchance he did desire confession of his sin. 
 
 Dr. Chillixgworth. 
 
 And wherefore not? E'en Xature calls; 
 And, from the black heart's buried shame, 
 Springs the rank luxuriance of unspoken crime. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 33 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 'Tis but a fantasy ! If I forebode aright, 
 Nought save Divinity the i^oul may read ; 
 And I conceive that liearts that hold 
 Such blackening truths will yield them up 
 At that last da}'- with joy unutterable. 
 
 Dr. Chillixgworth. 
 
 Why not reveal while yet in life, 
 And taste the solace of confession ? 
 
 DiMMFSDALE. 
 
 The}^ mostly do, 
 
 \_Grasp'uig his vestments (ts if in ijain. 
 And not alone when death its shadow throws. 
 And bids the soul cast off its wrappings, — 
 E'en while life be strong, and fame be sweet. 
 
 Dr. Chillingworth. 
 
 Yet men do bury secrets black so deep, 
 God's mercy will not find them out. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Tliy words do ring of truth. And 3'et, mayhap, 
 
 Kept silent by Nature's weakness. 
 
 Crime-stained their souls, they 3'et do hold 
 
 A zeal for God's higli glory and man's well-being, 
 
 And trembling shrink to speak their crime, 
 
 Lest in the future be denied 
 
 The privilege to redeem by deeds of sacrifice. 
 
34 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Dr. Chillingworth. 
 Tliey do deceive tlieraselves, and fear to take up 
 
 sliame 
 That should smirch or soil their earthly fame; 
 And love for man, and zeal for God, 
 Live not in hearts where guilt unbars the door 
 To hellish thoughts that propagate but siu. 
 Such unclean hands God's glory cannot build. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Let us not farther reason, but tell me of my body. 
 Speak, good friend and doctor, fairlj^, 
 Be it life or death ! 
 
 Dr. Chillixgworth. 
 Fairly. I do watch you daily; 
 And by the token of your aspect I do read 
 That in the soul the mortal sickness lieth. 
 Show me the wound that leecheth at tliy life. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Nay ! not to thee, nor to a brother man, — 
 None save my God, who knoweth my infirmity. 
 But who art thou, that darest thrust thyself 
 'Twixt me and life and heavenly mercy ? 
 
 Dr. Chillixgworth. 
 My prescience, it doth anger thee. 
 I leave tliee to the night and memory. 
 
 \^Exit Dr. Chillingworth. Mr. Dimmes- 
 DALE paces the room wildlf/, heating his 
 breast.'] 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 35 
 
 DlMMESDALE. 
 
 How poor a thing is life ! How terrible 
 
 When twin terrors — remorse and pain — 
 
 Drive talons deep witli every heart-beat ! 
 
 Seven years has my soul in bondage died ; 
 
 Seven years lias this old man probed my wound. 
 
 I put the hot iron to my breast, 
 
 And deemed that pain would assuage its anguish : 
 
 Yet it stilleth not; ever it eats and eats, 
 
 As God's judgments the flesh devoureth. 
 
 I will no longer bear it ; but forth 
 
 On the pillory's shameful height I'll cry my shame. 
 
 And bare my branded breast to a world 
 
 That joys that evil liveth. 
 
 \_He goes qidckly from the room. 
 
 Scene II. — Nir/ht in the market-place. Mr. 
 DiMMESDALE staucls Oil the scajfold. Kev. Mr. 
 John Wilsox, an aged minister, 2^c(sses by. 
 He holds his lamp in front of him. The night is 
 dark. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 A pleasant evening to j^ou, Father Wilson ! 
 Come hither : a cheery hour we'll pass together. 
 
 SJie passes without seeing or hearing. 
 Thus ever doth penitence remain afar! 
 I grasp and grasp, and phantom-like it flitteth 
 Forever and forever, my weakness to elude. 
 
36 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 [Hester and Pearl appvoanh. 
 Wlioiii have we here? Hester! Hester Pryiine ! 
 
 Are ye tliere? 
 Wlience did ye come ? What sent ye hither ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Governor "Wintliroj) lietli dead. 
 
 His robe I measured, its foldings laid, 
 
 And now am homeward going. 
 
 Dimmesdale. 
 
 Come up hither, thou and little Pearl. 
 Come up hither once again. Hearken ! 
 [_W6ird singing in the distance. 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 'Tis the " Black Man " singing to his people 
 As they dance to the roundelay. 
 
 Dimmesdale. 
 
 What knoweth thou of things so evil ? 
 Pearl. 
 
 My mother's home and mine is in tlie forest: 
 
 The trees when they whispered taught it me. 
 
 Was it evil that set us thus apart ? 
 
 For no one passeth under 
 
 The blooms that shade our door. 
 
 Not even thou, who smile on the sick and blind : 
 
 Wilt thou never come, minister? 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 37 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 What woiildst thou, child ? 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 That thou shalt stand to-morrow noontide here 
 With mother and with little Pearl. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Nay, not on the morrow : another morn as well. 
 
 Peakl. 
 
 But thou wilt take my mother's hand and mine 
 To-morrow at the noontide ? 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Not then, little Pearl, nor then : 
 
 At the Judgment Day. These hands so alien 
 
 Then shall clasp for heaven or hell eternally*. 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 Nay, minister; I will not touch thy hand 
 If thou take not mine upon the morrow. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Peace, child. The daylight of this world 
 Our meeting may not see. 
 
 \^A meteor passes tlirough the heavens. Hes- 
 ter loolzS up. Mr. DiMMESDALE sllUcl- 
 
 ders. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 The soul of the dead passeth to judgment. 
 
38 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 [B(/ the light of the meteor Koger Chil- 
 LiNGWORTH is seeu approaching. Mr. 
 DIMMESDALE^o^^^^^5 to him. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Who is that man ? I sliiver at his glance. 
 
 Hester, dost tlioii know liim ? I liate liim. 
 
 A nameless horror seizes me : my soul dies within. 
 
 When he does touch my hand in greeting, 
 
 His will be seeming soft, j^et holdeth me as iron. 
 
 He delves into my mind, and speaks my thoughts. 
 
 What is my soul to him ? 
 
 Canst thou, with thy preternatural gift 
 
 Of quick clairvoyance, tell me, be he man or devil ? 
 
 Pearl. 
 Minister, I can tell thee. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Quickl}^, child, ere he comes ! 
 
 \_She mumbles in his ear, and jitmp)S away 
 laughing. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Dost thou mock me ? 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 Thou wast not brave, thou wast not true ; 
 
 Thou wouldst not take my mother's hand and mine 
 
 To-morrow at the noontide ! 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 39 
 
 [Roger Chillingworth approaches. Mr. 
 DiMMESDALE vecoUs, and Hester averts 
 her head, as he nears the scaffold. 
 
 Dr. Chillingworth. 
 
 Pious Master Diinmesdale, can this be you ? » 
 Well, well-a-day ! but bookS do make men mad. 
 Tliou art not strong, and the night wind blows ; 
 The sleet, it sifteth on my beard. 
 'Twill chill tliy weakness nigh to death : 
 I pray you, let me lead you home. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 How knewest thou that I wert here ? 
 
 Dr. Chillingworth. 
 
 Most worshipful GoveriKU- Winthrop died this night. 
 
 My skill I gave his parting moments : 
 
 I now am homeward !)ound ; 
 
 And 1 do beseech thou goest with me. 
 
 Such niglit exposure thy lease of days does shorten, . 
 
 And contumely on thy fame might bring. 
 
 The night doth wane: wiit thou come with me ? 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 I will go with thee. 
 
 \_He ivalks away helplessly, droj^jnng liis glove 
 on the scaffold as lie descends. Hester 
 looks after theyn.'] 
 
40 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Hester. 
 'Tis like a slave that followeth his master. 
 My hand, that claspt these shackles on, shall free him 
 From a bondage that drinks his life, 
 And maketh him as a babe in weakness. - . 
 
 Pearl. 
 'Tis the ''Black Man" that carrieth off the minister! 
 He'll catch both thee and me 
 If dai'kiiess it do find us out : 
 Take ni}' hand, and let us run. 
 
 Hester. 
 I have no free hand, Pearl, to hold thine : 
 These wraps do fill them quite. 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 Give me the sliroud : I'll clasp it close, nor lose; 
 And let us run, for I do tremble in my fear. 
 
 Scene III. — Market-place. Townsman lifting the 
 glove marked '■'Arthur Dlmmiesdale.'''' 
 
 First Townsman. 
 What have we here where evil-doers stand for shame ? 
 Satan put it as a poor jest 'gainst goodly Master 
 
 Dimmesdale. 
 Such pure hands as his may go gloved 
 Save when he deals with sin : 
 Then will he strip them off, nor spare himself. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 41 
 
 Second Townsman. 
 
 Thou liast well said; a more exalted servant * 
 New England has not known. 
 
 Thikd Townsman. 
 
 The holy man, he seemeth ill and dying. 
 
 This world of evil be not worthy 
 
 The touch of steps so saintly in their walk. 
 
 First Townsman. 
 
 I'll tender him the glove ; and he will say 
 A cleverness that we shall love to dwell upon, 
 When his pure notes are dead to earth, 
 Yet higher tuned to heaven's great anthems. 
 
 6 
 
ACT IV. 
 
 Scene T. — A forest. Hester sitting on a fallen 
 tree. Pearl puttiiig flowers and leaves about 
 the Scarlet Letter on her mother^s breast. 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 Why wearest tliou this Scarlet Letter 
 
 Just where the minister layeth his hand in pain ? 
 
 Hester. 
 It is my doom. I may not put it by. 
 
 Pearl. 
 Will I wear a Scarlet Letter when I'm a woman tall ? 
 
 Hester. 
 Heaven keep thee from so fearful a fate ! 
 
 Pearl. 
 Why fearful ? I love the letter. 
 Didst thou cast it off, I'd not call thee mother. 
 It is a beautiful letter, — my mother's letter. 
 
 Hester. 
 Away to thy play, my Pearl. 
 There cometh one that I would speak with. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 43 
 
 [Roger Chillingworth approaches. Pearl 
 seizes her 'mother'' s skirts in fear, and 
 quicldy releasing darts away. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 I fain would speak with thee ! 
 
 Roger Chillixgworth. 
 Aha ! Has Mistress Hester words for Roger Pr^'nne ? 
 Wliy, Mistress Hester, I hear good tidings — 
 Noble deeds — of you from high and low degree. 
 The worthy magistrates do say your Scarlet Letter, 
 With safety to the common weal, may now be taken 
 off. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 It lieth not in the pleasure of the magistrates : 
 Were I worthy, of itself 'twould fall. 
 
 Roger Chillixgworth. 
 Nay ! AVear it, then, if it suit 3'ou better. 
 A woman may her own adornments choose. 
 In faith, j'-ou wear it bravely. \_Sneering1y. 
 What see you in my face ? Your looks be grave. 
 
 Hester. 
 Something that would make me weep had I bitter 
 
 tears. 
 Of Arthur Dimmesdale I would speak. 
 
 Roger Chillixgworth. 
 What of him ? Speak freely ! 
 
44 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 ^ Hestek. 
 
 When last we spake together, seven years agone, 
 
 Thou didst extort secrecy of me relating to our past. 
 
 As this man's life and fame lay in 3'our hands, 
 
 I did yield compliance to your will ; 
 
 But not without misgivings did I bind myself. 
 
 Since that daj^ no man so near as thou. 
 
 Your footsteps followed his; beside him as he slept 
 
 You searched his thoughts; you rankled in his breast; 
 
 You clutched his life. He dies a living death, and 
 
 knows 3^ou not ; 
 I permitted this, and acted false to one T should been 
 
 true. 
 
 EOGER. 
 
 What choice had you ? My finger pointed to the 
 
 man, 
 And could have hurled him 
 From tho pulpit to a dungeon, thence the gallows. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 It had been better so ! 
 
 Roger. 
 
 What evil have I done him ? 
 
 I tell thee, Hester Prynne, 
 
 A monarch's richest fee could not have bouglit 
 
 The care I wasted on this wretched priest. 
 
 But for my care, in torment would his soul 
 
 Burned out these many months ago. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 45 
 
 He lacks thy spirit's strength to bear his Scarlet Let- 
 ter. 
 Oh ! I could a goodly secret tell : [^chuckles 
 He breathes, and creeps about the earth, 
 And owes his paltry life to me. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Better he had died ! 
 
 ROGEK. 
 
 Thou speakest truly. Better he had died. 
 
 The Creator has not made a man more sensitive. 
 
 Conscious of an influence falling like a curse. 
 
 Dreading death, despairing life, 
 
 And haunted ever by the presence of an evil 
 
 That tortured his gnilty soul with undying remorse. 
 
 His spiritual sense did cr}--, it was no friendly hand 
 
 That smote his heart-strings to sudden pain. 
 
 With the poor superstition belonging to his craft, 
 
 He deemed himself given over to fiends. 
 
 Truly he did not err ; 
 
 Fori, to whom belonged a tender human heart, 
 
 Became a fiend for his life's torment. 
 
 Hester. 
 Hast thou not tortured him enough ? 
 Has he not paid thee all ? 
 
 Roger. 
 
 No, no ! Tenfold hath he increased the debt. 
 Remember me, as I did seem nine years agone. 
 
46 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 E'en then, in the autumn of my days, — the early 
 autumn, 
 
 All my life was made of earnest, thoughtful 3'ears. 
 
 Faithful to increase my knowledge of book-lore, 
 
 Faithful to th.e advancement of human weal, 
 
 No life more innocent. Few lives so rich with bene- 
 fits conferred. 
 
 Dost thou remember? To thee I might seem cold; 
 
 Yet 1 cared little for myself, much for others; 
 
 Kind, true, and just, and constant in my love. 
 
 Was I not this ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 All this, and more. 
 
 Roger. 
 What am I now ? A fiend. Who made me so ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 'Twas I, not less than he : 
 Avenge thj^self on me. 
 
 Eoger. 
 I have left thee to thy Scarlet Letter. 
 
 Hester. 
 It has well avenged thee. 
 
 Eoger. 
 I judged me so. And now, what of this man ? 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 47 
 
 Hester. 
 
 I must reveal th}^ secret. 
 
 'Tis due the man whose bane and ruin I have been. 
 
 I shall speak, — I, whom tliis letter 
 
 Has disciplined to truth, and given prescience 
 
 Of evil m each nature, whose e3'e shall fall 
 
 Upon its lurid, ignoninious splendor. 
 
 His honors do grow ghastly in such companionship, 
 
 Their very emptiness do mock his spirit. 
 
 I will not bend to pray thy mercy ; 
 
 Do with him as thou wilt : 
 
 There is no good for him, no good for me, 
 
 No good for thee — nor little Pearl. \_She weeps. 
 
 Roger. 
 
 Woman ! I could well-nigh pity thee. 
 
 Thou hast great elements : 
 
 I pity thee for the waste of a great nature. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 And I do pity thee, — a just, a wise man, 
 Transformed by hatred to a fiend. 
 Wilt thou not purge it out of thee ? 
 Not for his sake, but for th}'- soul's sake. 
 There is no "'ood for he or.me : 
 We grope in maze of evil, grown of guilt ; 
 But for thee a priceless, God-like privilege. 
 Forgive ! and leave his farther retribution 
 To Him who claims his just prerogative. 
 
48 THE SC ABLET LETTER. 
 
 See ! I kneel. [Falls on her knees before him. 
 I do implore thee : turn not awa3^ 
 
 EOGER. 
 
 Peace, Hester, peace. It is not granted me to 
 pardon. 
 
 Ye who have wronged me are not sinful, 
 
 [Laughs'] Nor am I fiend-like. It is our fate. 
 
 It is the fruit of evil that grew 
 
 Yvom the black blossoms thou held out. 
 
 E-evenge is sweet ; and I will drink 
 
 Its tempting chalice to the dregs, 
 
 I go my way. 
 
 [He walks away. Hester hows her face 
 in her hands. Arthur Dimmesdale 
 passes without. Seeing Hester, she 
 calls to him faintly. He turns slowly, 
 as if dazed. 
 
 Hester. 
 Arthur Dimmesdale ! 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 Hester ! Hester Prynne ! Is it thou i 
 And art thou still in life ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Even so, — if life it be, 
 
 To live apart from human sympathy, 
 
 To cross no threshold, save where 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 40 
 
 Death and shame my path have cleared. 
 Hast thou found peace ? 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 None. Were I an atheist, devoid of conscience, 
 I might ere tliis forget mine evil-doing. 
 God's very gifts do now become 
 My ministers of torment. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Thy people reverence give, 
 
 And thou great good have wrought. 
 
 Does this not comfort thee ? 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 More misery ! I stand before my people, 
 
 And accept their honest reverence, 
 
 Yet fain would strip my soul, and 
 
 Take, instead, their scorn and loathing. 
 
 They look upon me as if the light of heaven 
 
 AVere beaming on my face ; 
 
 And, hungry for the truth, grasp at my words 
 
 As if the tongue of Pentecost were speaking. 
 
 I look within, and at the black pollution laugh 
 
 In bitterness and agony of soul. 
 
 And Satan laughs. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 But does not penitence bring relief? 
 
 7 
 
50 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Akthuk. 
 
 Penitence ? I none have had, else 'I would long ago 
 Stript off this garment of mock holiness. 
 
 IToJichinfj his vestments 7iervouslt/. 
 Would I had a friend who ever at my side 
 Would hold ni}^ confidence ! — a friend 
 Strong and hrave like thee, my Hester! 
 
 Hester. 
 Such an enemy thou hast beneath thy roof. . 
 
 Arthur. 
 What sayest thou ? An enemy beneath my roof? 
 What mean you ? Speak ! 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Arthur, forgive me ! 
 
 In all things have I striven to be true. 
 
 Truth was my one sole virtue. I held it fast, — 
 
 Held it fast through all extremity, 
 
 Save where thy good, thy life, thy fame, 
 
 Were put in jeopardy. 
 
 A lie is never good, e'en though death threaten. 
 
 Dost thou not read what I would speak ? 
 
 That old man ever at thy side, 
 
 Eoger Chillingworth, he was vuj husband. 
 
 Arthur. 
 Thy husband? \_Sinks 07i the ground beside her. 
 1 might have known ; I did know. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 51 
 
 Did not my heart recoil at sight of him? 
 The shame, the ugly horror of association 
 With one who daily gloated at my misery — 
 Woman, woman ! thou art accountable for this : 
 I cannot forgive thee. 
 
 \_Desijairinghj she throws her arms ahovt him, 
 pressing his face against the letter. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Thou shalt forgive ! Let God punish. 
 
 Arthur, you will forgive ? I have borne much. 
 
 The seasons have come, with heat and cold. 
 
 But gave me nought save life. 
 
 I might not look on the morning's scarlet glory, 
 
 Nor gaze on the sunset's splendor. 
 
 Nor pluck the crimson trumpet's bloom ; 
 
 For each in its brightness cried to me 
 
 Of shame and sin and obloquy. 
 
 Seven long years has the world frowned, 
 
 And heaven has frowned ; yet I have not died. 
 
 Yet now I will not live if thou dost turn 
 
 And frown in gloom upon me. 
 
 Forgive me. I would die or live for tliee. 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 I do forgive thee, Hester. May God forgive us both, 
 Sinners as we are ! this old man be even worse 
 Than thou the wife dishonored. 
 And I the priest polluted. 
 
52 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Has he not desecrated the soul's sanctity ? 
 Thou and I ne'er did that. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Never, never ! 
 
 And we did consecrate ourselves to faithfulness 
 
 When we believed this old man dead. 
 
 Hast tliou forgott(ni ? 
 
 Arthur. 
 I have not forgotten. 
 
 \_Takes her face between his hands, and looks 
 
 long and tenderly. 
 For one brief moment I would live to truth, 
 Forget the mockery of my life, 
 Forget the hollow pretence of its forms, 
 And, gazing in thine eyes so firm and sad, 
 Take lesson of their calm endurance ; 
 So precious are these moments 
 That I would garner up their peace, 
 And bind my soul to strength. 
 
 \_After a moment's silence he springs up 
 
 wildly. 
 Hester, here is new terror. Will he betray us ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 He loveth vengeance; I trust him not. 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 And I, can I live longer with this deadly foe ? 
 Think for me, Hester : thou art brave and strong: 
 Hesolve for me. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 53 
 
 Hester. 
 Thou must dwell no longer with him ; 
 Thy heart would die beneath his evil eye. 
 
 Arthur. 
 What choice remains, it were worse than death. 
 Would I might lie me down 
 These withered leaves among, 
 And rise not till the angel call ! 
 
 Hestkii. 
 Alas ! what ruin liath befallen thee ! 
 Thou wilt die with very fear. 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 Heaven's mighty judgment is upon me ; 
 My conscience stricken in despair. 
 
 Hester- 
 
 Heaven would show mercy 
 Hadst thou strength to seize it. 
 
 Arthur. 
 Be thou strong, my Hester; 
 Advise me as thou wilt. 
 
 Hester. 
 Is the world so narrow ? 
 
 Does yonder town compass the boundless universe? 
 Listen : I know a world remote from possibilit}^ 
 Of contact with the dust you shake from toil-worn 
 feet, — 
 
54 * THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 A land of soft, tender skies and limpid streams, 
 
 Of smooth sea, of broad forest arches 
 
 Where singing birds do soothe the soul to stillness, 
 
 A land of pleasant melodies and dreamj^ tliought, 
 
 A land of bloom, of fragrance, of forgetful n ess : 
 
 Come with me. Why linger? 
 
 Behind tliee the dungeon's shame doth tlireaten 
 
 Mayhap an ignominious death. 
 
 Th}^ manacled hands will vainly lift for mercy, 
 
 Hearts untempted be sternly locked. 
 
 And mercy cheateth not their bolts. 
 
 Come with me and little Pearl : 
 
 I yet will save thee. 
 
 Akthuk. 
 
 It cannot be. Wretched as I am, — 
 
 Lost as my soul may be, — I dare not leave my post. 
 
 Unfaithful sentinel! who knows that death 
 
 And shame shall end his dreary watch. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Thou art crushed with misery : 
 
 Leave this wreck and ruin. Begin anew. 
 
 Hast thou exhausted possibilities? 
 
 Exchange this false life for a true. 
 
 I am weary of dissimulation : 
 
 When words of love thrill my soul, 
 
 I feign would speak them ; 
 
 When thou dost suffer, I would weep; 
 
 In joy or grief be ever at thy side. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 55 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 This has been my sinful dream ; 
 Tortured as my soul lias been, 
 I could not banish the hope so dear 
 That in another land or life 
 Tliou vvouldst be mine. 
 Dwell not upon it ; 
 
 Born of sinful thouglit, the hope must perish ; 
 And thou must guard tliy glance, thy smile, thy 
 tears. 
 
 Hkster. 
 
 Smiles I never have, 
 
 Nor will I weep to betray thee 
 
 Wert tliou dead at my feet. 
 
 But is there no life for us ? 
 
 I will not yield the future : 
 
 Thou canst make a name and place 
 
 In the great outer world. 
 
 Preach, write, act, do any thing but die : 
 
 Let us up and away ! 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 Thou wouldst surely go with me, my Hester ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Will the bond take freedom ? Surely ! 
 *•' Whither thou goest " I go ; " where thou diest " I 
 die. 
 
56 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 \_Looking long and tenderly upon her.'] 
 Nay, nay ! It may not be. Thou liast repute 
 'Mong these godly Puritans, won througli strife : 
 I may not thrice make wreck of thee ! 
 My time be brief. I wait to meet my scarlet brand. 
 Turn thy suffering patient eyes from mine ; 
 They hold me, and do agonize my soul. 
 
 • [She hoivs her head. He lays his hand upon 
 it. 
 This head so lowly bowed, so bitterly degraded, 
 Weareth ever to my sight a crown 
 Of meek endurance. God keep thee ! 
 Farewell, Hester. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Gone, gone ! Hope hath perished in this hour ; 
 
 Would that life might perish too ! 
 
 \_IIe walks away. Hester bends even lower 
 moaning. Sadly moments ^:»a.?5 / she 
 rises, and calls to Pearl. 
 
 Pearl ! Pearl ! I bid thee come. 
 
 \_She conies ; and, clasping her mother'' s neck, 
 they sit on a fallen tree. Th.e child takes 
 Iter handkerchief, and dries away traces 
 of tears on her mother'' s face. 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 Thou didst weep : I saw thee. 
 
 The minister said, Wilt thou kiss me, little Pearl? 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 57 
 
 Nay, nay ! Thou didst bring my mother grief; 
 And I ran to thee. Nor did I kiss. 
 
 Hi:STER. 
 
 Thou shouldst not deny liim. 
 
 Peakl. 
 
 On the morrow 'twill be a brave show: 
 
 I'll wear a dress of white ; and do thou, mother, 
 
 Glad thy Pearl, and wear white garments loo. 
 
 CUKTATX DlJOl'S. 
 
ACT. V. 
 
 Scene I. — A New England holiday. The new 
 governor takes up the duties of office. Mr. 
 DiMMESDALE preaches the election sermon. 
 Great enthusiasm. The market-place. Feople 
 waiting for the 2)rocession to 'pass. Music and 
 rejoicing heard in the distance. PIestek and 
 Pearl, wearing white, stand near the pillory ; 
 Mistress Hibbins, regarded as a udteh, near 
 them, fantastically attired. They look towai^ 
 the procession as it advances. 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 Is that the minister, that kissed me in the wood? 
 How grand and tall he walks beside the governor ! 
 
 Hester. 
 Hold thy peace, dear little Pearl. 
 
 Pearl. 
 Will he kiss me now before the people ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Thou art a silly little Pearl ; mayhap, mayhap — 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 50 
 
 Mistress Hibbins. 
 
 What mortal miiicl could well conceive 
 
 Yonder divinity ? That saint on earth, 
 
 His people term him ; and I must needs say 
 
 He hath a look etherealized ; hearken ! 
 
 From his study forth he went chewing Hebrew texts, 
 
 With Scripture in his mouth into the forest ; 
 
 And wlio forsooth shall say 
 
 He danceth not the measure when Satan iiddleth ? 
 
 Can we tell who shall change our hands, 
 
 If it be an Indian pow-wow, or Lapland wizard? 
 
 'Tis but a trifle when a woman knows the world : 
 
 What think ye ? 
 
 Hester. 
 
 'Tis not for one like me 
 
 To lightly talk of pious Master Dimmesdale. 
 
 Mistress Hibbins. 
 
 \_Shakln(j her fincjer at Hester, and grinning 
 maliciously.'] 
 Fie, woman, fie ! Have I been so often to the wood, 
 And cannot tell who goeth there ? 
 Thou wearest openly, there be no question here; 
 But the minister — Put down thine ear 
 That I may whisper thee. Listen : 
 The " Black Man " knows his servants signed and 
 
 sealed, 
 And he hath a way of ordering matters, 
 When one is shy in owning to the bond, 
 
60 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Tliat shall disclose it in open light to all the world. 
 
 What seeketli tiie minister 
 
 To hide with his hands upon his breast? 
 
 Peakl. 
 
 What is it, good Mistress Hibbins? 
 Hast thou seen it ? 
 
 MiSTllESS HiBBIXS. 
 
 No matter, sprite. You will see it one time or other. 
 
 They sa}^ chihl, thou art of the lineage 
 
 Of the Prince of Air. 
 
 Wilt thou ride with me in the moonlight 
 
 To see thy father? Then shalt thou know. 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 I have seen the minister in the wood 
 And in the air \_points to the scaffold, 
 And yet I do not know. 
 I will not ride with thee in the moonlight, 
 Nor is my father a prince of the air. 
 
 \_Townsmeii precede the procession, and enter 
 the square. 
 
 First Townsman. 
 
 I did not deem that man 
 
 Such God-like powers could hold ; 
 
 His softness springeth but from a soul 
 
 That lives in near communion with his God. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 61 
 
 Second Townsmam. 
 It seemed an angel spake. 
 How wept the congregation ! 
 
 [^The procession fills the square. Mr. Dimmes- 
 r>ALE stands at the governor'' s side. The 
 people crowd around him, shaking his 
 hands, and congratulating. 
 
 Third Townsman. 
 He illy holds himself erect. 
 Such purity would bear translation. 
 
 First Townsman. 
 Good Master Dimmesdale, but let me touch your hand. 
 Sucli eloquence fell not from mortal lips before. 
 
 Governor Bellingham. 
 
 Thou art a people's pride, a country's glory. 
 Heaven give thee back to health and strength ! 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 \_He seems not to hear ; breaks away from the 
 crowd, and gropes feebly forward toward 
 the pillory. They would assist him. 
 [ Waving them back'] Touch me not, touch me not ! 
 [He j^duses in iveakness. 
 
 Hester. 
 Come hither ! Come, my little Pearl. 
 
 [Hester and Pearl step forward. Eoger 
 Chillingworth springs to his side, and, 
 catching his sleeve, would restrain him. 
 
62 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Roger Chillixgwoeth. 
 
 Holil, madman ! Wave back this woman ; 
 Cast off the cliild. All shall be well. 
 Wouldst thou bring infamy upon thy sacred faith, 
 And perish in dishonor ? 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Ha, tempter ! Thou art too late : 
 
 Th}^ power is over. With God's help I do escape. 
 
 \_Extencling his hand to Hester. 
 Hester Prjnme, in the name of Him so terrible, so 
 
 merciful, 
 Come hither. 
 Thou art stronger than this wretched, wronged old 
 
 man : 
 Come, Hester, quickly. Aid me ! 
 
 [iSAe steps to his side, holding Pearl's hand. 
 He leans on her shoulder . Together they 
 ascend the scaffold. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 my master ! forbear ! 
 
 Roger Chillingworth. 
 Heed her words, and save thyself ! 
 What folly wouldst thou perpetrate ? 
 
 Arthur. 
 Away with thine evil counsellings ! 
 Let me speak and die. — 
 Hester, come nearer; support me to mine infamy. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 63 
 
 \_L6ani7ig upon her slioulder, they ascend the 
 
 scaffold. 
 The people are offended, and murmur that lie 
 
 loill have none to support him save this 
 
 woman. 
 Hester speaks in loiv tones. 
 
 Hester. 
 Arthur Dimraesdale, hast thou forgotteu 
 The sacrifice, the endurance of these many years, 
 Tliat ye dare with one fell blow 
 Destroy the structure that time and painful care 
 Hath built upon a tottering frame ? 
 
 Arthur. 
 I do not forget. With Death's sure approach 
 Comes a prescience of evil-doing unconfessed, 
 That holds my tortured soul 
 Till I shall speak in late atonement. 
 
 Roger. 
 
 Hadst thou sought the broad earth over, 
 There was no place so secret, no place so high, 
 No place so low, that thou couldst escape me. 
 Save on this scaffold. 
 
 Dimmesdale. 
 
 Thanks be to God, who led me hither ! 
 
 [_He trembles, and turning from Roger gazes 
 tenderly on Hester. 
 Is not this better than we dreamed of in the forest ? 
 
64 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 I know not ! know not ! Better — 
 
 Yea! so botli sIkiH die; and little Pearl — 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 For thee and little Pearl, be it as God shall order ; 
 
 And God is merciful. 
 
 But, Hester, I am dying : 
 
 Let me haste to take my shame upon me. 
 
 \_Siipported hi) Hester he stands erect ^ ghast- 
 ly, dying. In a voice of agony he cries 
 out, — 
 People of New England ! Ye that have loved me, 
 Ye that have deemed me holy, 
 Behold me here, tlie one sinner of the world. 
 I whom ye behold in the robes of priesthood ; 
 I who ascend the sacred desk. 
 And turn my pale face heavenward. 
 Presuming to take upon m^'self to hold communion 
 In your behalf with that Most High Omniscience; 
 I in whose daily life you saw the sanctity of Enoch, 
 In whose footsteps you saw the gleam ©f heavenly 
 
 purity ; 
 I who have baptized your children ; 
 I who have breathed the parting pra^^er 
 Above your dead, and broke the bread of sacrament, 
 I your pastor, whom ye did love and reverence, — 
 Am all unworthy, a pollution, a lie. 
 I stand where seven years — 
 
 [Hester interrupts him wildly. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 65 
 
 Hester. 
 In mercy to th^^self forbear ! 
 Hath sympathy, hath pity for my shame, 
 Made thee mad ? Let me go from thee ! 
 Let tlie strong arms of thy brothers 
 Bear thee to thy home, 
 Where rest shall bring tranquillity. 
 
 Arthur. * 
 
 Not till the end. 
 
 Lo ! the Scarlet Letter which Hester wears. 
 
 \_Pointing to the letter. 
 Ye have shuddered at it. 
 It cast the lurid gleam of infancy about her, 
 But there stood one in your midst 
 Whom ye bowed down to, whose infamy ye saw not; 
 
 \_He all hut falls, but Tnastering his weakness 
 uprises again. 
 It was on him. God's eye beheld it; 
 The angels knew it ; the Devil knew it. 
 And fretted it over with the touch of his burning 
 
 finger. 
 He hid it from men, and walked among ye 
 With a mien of a spirit mournful 
 Because so pure, in a sinful world ; 
 Sad, because he missed and longed for heavenly 
 
 fellowship. 
 He stands befor^ ye dying. 
 And bids ye look at Hester's Scarlet Letter. 
 He tells ye, with all its weird horror, 
 . y 
 
66 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 'Tis but a shadow of what his own breast bears. 
 
 Stand any here who doubt God's judgment ? 
 
 Behold ! behold a witness ! 
 
 [^e tears open his vestments, and betrays on 
 his breast a red woii7id ; smiling tri- 
 umj^hantly, sinks down. Hester sup- 
 ports him. EoGER Chilltngworth 
 kneels beside him. 
 
 KoGEK Chillingworth. 
 
 Thou hast escaped me ! thou hast escaped me ! 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 May God forgive thee! thou too hast sinned. 
 
 [He turns his dying eyes on Hester and 
 Pearl. 
 My little Pearl, dear little Pearl ! 
 Wilt thou kiss me ? Thou wouldst not 
 In the forest ; but thou wilt now. 
 
 [Pearl kisses him. 
 
 Peakl. 
 
 I will kiss tfiee, for now thou art brave, art true. 
 And dost not fear to take my mother's hand and 
 mine. 
 
 [Pearl loohs around upon the pteople and 
 scaffold. 
 Tis like a picture in my lesson-book, — the crucifix- 
 ion. 
 
 LOfC. 
 
THE SCARLET LETTER. 67 
 
 DiMMKSDALE. 
 
 It is the crucifixion, my child, of passion and pride. 
 
 Pearl. 
 
 And yet 'tis even like the transfiguration. 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 It is the transfiguration of a soul purified by sacrifice. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Shall we not meet again V 
 
 Shall not immortal life be ours togetlier ? 
 
 Surely ! Surely ! We have redeemed one another. 
 
 Thou lookest far into eternity 
 
 With thy briglit dying eyes. 
 
 Tell me, tell me, what thou seest? 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 Hush, Hester, hush. The law we broke. 
 I fear, I fear tiiat when we forgot our God, 
 And violated reverence for each other's souls. 
 It be henceforth vain to hope eternal pure reunion. 
 God knoweth, and he is merciful, — 
 Merciful in giving me this burning torture 
 By sending yonder dark old man 
 To witness and intensify my agony. 
 By bringing me before my people 
 To perish in triumphant ignomin}' ; 
 Had either these been wanting, 
 I had been lost forever. Praised be his holy name ! 
 
68 TEE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 [ The people take it up repeating, — 
 
 People. 
 
 Praised be his lioly name ! 
 
 DiMMESDALE. 
 
 .Death's tide breaks over me : 
 
 God bless my people, their children, and thee, 
 
 My Hester. Farewell ! farewell ! 
 
 [He dies ; the jyeople murmur with resentment, 
 believing him guilty of some great crime. 
 
 First Townsman. 
 
 Some monstrous crime hath he perpetrated: 
 His conscience would not give him rest 
 Till he should give confession. 
 
 Second Townsman. 
 
 Had his past held no evil-doing, 
 
 He casteth shame upon the church 
 
 In seeking death in the arms of disrepute. 
 
 Dame B. 
 
 Do we not hold among us virtue, 
 That he make this bold extremity? 
 
 Eev. Mr. Wilson. 
 
 Ye are hasty in your judgment : an hour agone 
 • Ye fell in worship to him who lieth dead. 
 
THE SC ABLET LETTER. 69 
 
 Dame Hibbins. 
 
 True, true : in sooth the world it chaugeth ; 
 Yet many hold an evil closer than she 
 Who weareth the scarlet token. 
 
 Magistrate. 
 
 What commandment hath he outraged ? 
 
 I have it : a felon's garb he feared, 
 
 Else had he spoken ; 
 
 Or, hath he done a murder? 
 
 [Hester, who has sujjjported the dead pastor, 
 is relieved by the sexton. She rises ma- 
 jestically at these ivords ofhlame; a fierce 
 grandeur pervades her mien. In thrill- 
 ing tones of offended entreaty, she speaks 
 to the 2^eople.] 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Shame upon ye ! Do ye, 
 
 His people who did love and reverence, 
 
 Upbraid at this fearful moment ? 
 
 Forget the mad self-accusations 
 
 Begotten of the morbid imaginings 
 
 Of a diseased mind. 
 
 He hath done no wrong 
 
 That prayer and penance hath not wiped away. 
 
 The Master he serv^ed laid hands of purity 
 
 On the repentant Magdalen ! 
 
 Hath he done worse ? Have I not repented ? 
 
70 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 Do I not plead, tliat ye forgive me 
 The bitter shame I cast upon ye 'i 
 
 Rev. Mk. Wilsox. 
 We do forgive, and bid ye come among us, ^ 
 
 Into tlie bosom of the cliurch 
 That so long pronounced thy banishment. 
 
 People. 
 Thou art more worthy — \_ Pointing to their Late 
 pastor. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Would ye defame the dead? — 
 Your pastor, in whose life of purity 
 Ye could not point at spot or blemish ! 
 Ungrateful people ! Do ye forget he loved 3^e, 
 Loved your souls, and struggled for their salvation ? 
 
 \_Kneeling, and taking the hand of the dead. 
 Look upon him, dead in thy service ! 
 Tliis hand did break the bread of sacrament, 
 Did put the cup of life to your parched lips, 
 Hath lain in baptism upon your children's heads. 
 Oh ! be loved your little children, 
 In death he gave them benediction. 
 Recall his goodness, his labors, 
 Recall his tender chidings, his loving counsel ; 
 His heart was so great, so merciful ! \_She iveejys. 
 It pitied me, and it hath doomed him to shame. 
 Forgive him this; give back your reverence; 
 Forgive me in whose arms he died. 
 
THE SCAB LET LETTER. 71 
 
 Kev. Mr. Wilson. 
 
 We do forgive thee, who hath 
 
 So well redeemed thyself. 
 
 In the name of the jjeople, I command 
 
 That ye put off thy Scarlet Letter, 
 
 And come down among us as of yove. 
 
 People. 
 
 Take off the letter I 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Do ye his people hid me cast it off? 
 
 I have sinned; I have tasted the bitterness of death. 
 
 Yet I am forgiven from the great heart of humanity 
 
 Even as Divinity forgiveth. 
 
 Use again this beneficent power, 
 
 And tell me ye do forgive his madness, 
 
 That the pale face looking heavenward 
 
 Is thy beloved pastor ! 
 
 Rev. Mk. Wilson. 
 
 \_Sha1nng his head gloomihj.'] He is beyond our 
 
 honor ; 
 His judgment be passed at a greater tribunal : 
 Yet do thou cast thy Scarlet Letter. 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Never! Ever at my heart this infamy shall burn. 
 If the dead who loved my soul lies in dishonor, 
 I will live in dishonor, — meet punishment 
 
72 THE SCARLET LETTER. 
 
 That I have brought obloquy on heaven's pure ser- 
 vant. 
 
 Eev. Mk. Wilson. 
 
 Thou teachest us a lesson. 
 
 Th.y faithfulness restores him to our hearts 
 
 As ever, — the beloved pastor whom we do mourn 
 
 In deep reverence, and hold in tender memory. 
 
 People. 
 
 \_The jjeople sob, and cry oiit^ 
 Take off thy letter ! take off thy letter ! 
 
 Hester. 
 
 Across the dead I clasp thy hands, 
 
 And from my breast tear my Scarlet Letter, 
 
 At the mandate of a just people. 
 
 Fmis. 
 
 
xO^^. 
 
 
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