Chapter 17  THE PASTOR AND HIS PARISHIONER

SLOWLY as the minister walked, he had almost gone by, before Hester Prynne could gather voice enough to attract his observation. At length, she succeeded.

"Arthur Dimmesdale!" she said, faintly at first; then louder, but hoarsely: "Arthur Dimmesdale!"

"Who speaks?" answered the minister.

Gathering himself quickly up, he stood more erect, like a man taken by surprise in a mood to which he was reluctant to have witnesses. Throwing his eyes anxiously in the direction of the voice, he indistinctly beheld a form under the trees, clad in garments so, sombre, and so little relieved from the grey twilight into which the clouded sky and the heavy foliage had darkened the noontide, that he knew not whether it were a woman or a shadow. It may be, that his pathway through life was haunted thus, by a spectre that had stolen out from among his thoughts.

He made a step nigher, and discovered the scarlet letter.

"Hester! Hester Prynne!" said he. "Is it thou? Art thou in life?"

"Even so!" she answered. "In such life as has been mine these seven years past! And thou, Arthur Dimmesdale, dost thou yet live?"

It was no wonder that they thus questioned one another's actual and bodily existence, and even doubted of their own. So strangely did they meet, in the dim wood, that it was like the first encounter, in the world beyond the grave, of two spirits who had been intimately connected in their former life, but now stood coldly shuddering, in mutual dread; as not yet familiar with their state, nor wonted to the companionship of disembodied beings. Each a ghost, and awe-stricken at the other ghost! They were awe-stricken likewise at themselves; because the crisis flung back to them their consciousness, and revealed to each heart its history and experience, as life never does, except at such breathless epochs. The soul beheld its features in the mirror of the passing moment. It was with fear, and tremulously, and, as it were, by a slow, reluctant necessity, that Arthur Dimmesdale put forth his hand, chill as death, and touched the chill hand of Hester Prynne. The grasp, cold as it was, took away what was dreariest in the interview. They now felt themselves, at least, inhabitants of the same sphere.

Without a word more spoken- neither he nor she assuming the guidance, but with an unexpressed consent- they glided back into the shadow of the woods, whence Hester had emerged, and sat down on the heap of moss where she and Pearl had before been sitting. When they found voice to speak, it was, at first, only to utter remarks and inquiries such as any two acquaintances might have made, about the gloomy sky, the threatening storm, and, next, the health of each. Thus they went onward, not boldly, but step by step, into the themes that were brooding deepest in their hearts. So long estranged by fate and circumstances, they needed something slight and casual to run before, and throw open the doors of intercourse, so that their real thoughts might be led across the threshold.

After a while, the minister fixed his eyes on Hester Prynne's.

"Hester," said he, "hast thou found peace?"

She smiled drearily, looking down upon her bosom.

"Hast thou?" she asked.

"None!- nothing but despair!" he answered. "What else could I look for, being what I am, and leading such a life as mine? Were I an atheist- a man devoid of conscience- a wretch with coarse and brutal instincts- I might have found peace, long ere now. Nay, I never should have lost it! But, as matters stand with my soul, whatever of good capacity there originally was in me, all of God's gifts that were the choicest have become the ministers of spiritual torment. Hester, I am most miserable."

"The people reverence thee," said Hester. "And surely thou workest good among them! Doth this bring thee no comfort?"

"More misery, Hester!- only the more misery!" answered the clergyman, with a bitter smile. "As concerns the good which I may appear to do, I have no faith in it. It must needs be a delusion. What can a ruined soul, like mine, effect towards the redemption of other souls?- or a polluted soul, towards their purification? And as for the people's reverence, would that it were turned to scorn and hatred! Canst thou deem it, Hester, a consolation, that I must stand up in my pulpit, and meet so many eyes turned upward to my face, as if the light of heaven were beaming from it!- must see my flock hungry for the truth, and listening to my words as if a tongue of Pentecost were speaking!- and then look inward, and discern the black reality of what they idolise? I have laughed, in bitterness and agony of heart, at the contrast between what I seem and what I am! And Satan laughs at it!"

"You wrong yourself in this," said Hester gently. "You have deeply and sorely repented. Your sin is left behind you, in the days long past. Your present life is not less holy, in very truth, than it seems in people's eyes. Is there no reality in the penitence thus sealed and witnessed by good works? And wherefore should it not bring you peace?"

"No, Hester, no!" replied the clergyman. "There is no substance in it! It is cold and dead, and can do nothing for me! Of penance, I have had enough! Of penitence, there has been none! Else, I should long ago have thrown off these garments of mock holiness, and have shown myself to mankind as they will see me at the judgment-seat. Happy are you, Hester, that wear the scarlet letter openly upon your bosom! Mine burns in secret! Thou little knowest what a relief it is, after the torment of a seven years' cheat, to look into an eye that recognises me for what I am! Had I one friend- or were it my worst enemy!- to whom, when sickened with the praises of all other men, I could daily betake myself, and be known as the vilest of all sinners, methinks my soul might keep itself alive thereby. Even thus much of truth would save me! But, now, it is all falsehood!- all emptiness!- all death!"

Hester Prynne looked into his face, but hesitated to speak. Yet, uttering his long-restrained emotions so vehemently as he did, his words here offered her the very point of circumstances in which to interpose what she came to say. She conquered her fears, and spoke.

"Such a friend as thou hast even now wished for," said she, "with whom to weep over thy sin, thou has in me, the partner of it!" Again she hesitated, but brought out the words with an effort, "Thou hast long had such an enemy, and dwellest with him, under the same roof!"

The minister started to his feet, gasping for breath, and clutching at his heart, as if he would have torn it out of his bosom.

"Ha! What sayest thou!" cried he. "An enemy! And under mine own roof! What mean you?"

Hester Prynne was now fully sensible of the deep injury for which she was responsible to this unhappy man, in permitting him to lie for so many years, or, indeed, for a single moment, at the mercy of one whose purposes could not be other than malevolent. The very contiguity of his enemy, beneath whatever mask the latter might conceal himself, was enough to disturb the magnetic sphere of a being so sensitive as Arthur Dimmesdale. There had been a period when Hester was less alive to this consideration; or, perhaps, in the misanthropy of her own trouble, she left the minister to bear what she might picture to herself as a more tolerable doom. But of late, since the night of his vigil, all her sympathies towards him had been both softened and invigorated. She now read his heart more accurately. She doubted not, that the continual presence of Roger Chillingworth the secret poison of his malignity, infecting all the air about him- and his authorised interference, as a physician, with the minister's physical and spiritual infirmities- that these bad opportunities had been turned to a cruel purpose. By means of them, the sufferer's conscience had been kept in an irritated state, the tendency of which was, not to cure by wholesome pain, but to disorganise and corrupt his spiritual being. Its result, on earth, could hardly fail to be insanity, and hereafter, that eternal alienation from the Good and True, of which madness is perhaps the earthly type.

Such was the ruin to which she had brought the man, once- nay, why should we not speak it?- still so passionately loved! Hester felt that the sacrifice of the clergyman's good name, and death itself, as she had already told Roger Chillingworth, would have been infinitely preferable to the alternative which she had taken upon herself to choose. And now, rather than have had this grievous wrong to confess, she would gladly have lain down on the forest-leaves, and died there, at Arthur Dimmesdale's feet.

"O Arthur," cried she, "forgive me! In all things else, I have striven to be true! Truth was the one virtue which I might have held fast, and did hold fast, through all extremity; save when thy good- thy life thy fame- were put in question! Then I consented to a deception. But a lie is never good, even though death threaten on the other side! Dost thou not see what I would say? That old man!- the physician!- he whom they call Roger Chillingworth!- he was my husband!"

The minister looked at her, for an instant, with all that violence of passion, which- intermixed, in more shapes than one, with his higher, purer, softer qualities- was, in fact, the portion of him which the Devil claimed, and through which he sought to win the rest. Never was there a blacker or a fiercer frown than Hester now encountered. For the brief space that it lasted, it was a dark transfiguration. But his character had been so much enfeebled by suffering, that even its lower energies were incapable of more than a temporary struggle. He sank down on the ground, and buried his face in his hands.

"I might have known it," murmured he. "I did know it! Was not the secret told me, in the natural recoil of my heart, at the first sight of him, and as often as I have seen him since? Why did I not understand? O Hester Prynne, thou little, little knowest all the horror of this thing! And the shame!- the indelicacy!- the horrible ugliness of this exposure of a sick and guilty heart to the very eye that would gloat over it? Woman, woman, thou are accountable for this! I cannot forgive thee!"

"Thou shalt forgive me!" cried Hester, flinging herself on the fallen leaves beside him. "Let God punish! Thou shalt forgive!"

With sudden and desperate tenderness, she threw her arms around him, and pressed his head against her bosom; little caring though his cheek rested on the scarlet letter. He would have released himself, but strove in vain to do so. Hester would not set him free, lest he should look her sternly in the face. All the world had frowned on her- for seven long years had it frowned upon this lonely woman- and still she bore it all, nor ever once turned away her firm, sad eyes. Heaven, likewise, had frowned upon her, and she had not died. But the frown of this pale, weak, sinful, and sorrow-stricken man was what Hester could not bear, and live!

"Wilt thou yet forgive me?" she repeated, over and over again. "Wilt thou not frown? Wilt thou forgive?"

"I do forgive you, Hester," replied the minister, at length, with a deep utterance, out of an abyss of sadness, but no anger. "I freely forgive you now. May God forgive us both! We are not, Hester, the worst sinners in the world. There is one worse than even the polluted priest! That old man's revenge has been blacker than my sin. He has violated, in cold blood, the sanctity of a human heart. Thou and I, Hester, never did so!"

"Never, never!" whispered she. "What we did had a consecration of its own. We felt it so! We said so to each other! Hast thou forgotten it?"

"Hush, Hester!" said Arthur Dimmesdale, rising from the ground. "No; I have not forgotten!"

They sat down again, side by side, and hand clasped in hand, on the mossy trunk of the fallen tree. Life had never brought them a gloomier hour; it was the point whither their pathway had so long been tending, and darkening ever, as it stole along; and yet it enclosed a charm that made them linger upon it, and claim another, and another, and, after all, another moment. The forest was obscure around them, and creaked with a blast that was passing through it. The boughs were tossing heavily above their heads; while one solemn old tree groaned dolefully to another, as if telling the sad story of the pair that sat beneath, or constrained to forbode evil to come.

And yet they lingered. How dreary looked the forest-track that led backward to the settlement, where Hester Prynne must take up again the burden of her ignominy, and the minister the hollow mockery of his good name! So they lingered an instant longer. No golden light had ever been so precious as the gloom of this dark forest. Here, seen only by his eyes, the scarlet letter need not burn into the bosom of the fallen woman! Here, seen only by her eyes, Arthur Dimmesdale, false to God and man, might be for one moment true!

He started at a thought that suddenly occurred to him.

"Hester," cried he, "here is a new horror! Roger Chillingworth knows your purpose to reveal his true character. Will he continue, then, to keep our secret? What will now be the course of his revenge?"

"There is a strange secrecy in his nature," replied Hester thoughtfully; "and it has grown upon him by the hidden practices of his revenge. I deem it not likely that he will betray the secret. He will doubtless seek other means of satiating his dark passion."

"And I!- how am I to live longer, breathing the same air with this deadly enemy?" exclaimed Arthur Dimmesdale, shrinking within himself, and pressing his hand nervously against his heart- a gesture that had grown involuntary with him. "Think for me, Hester! Thou art strong. Resolve for me!"

"Thou must dwell no longer with this man," said Hester, slowly and firmly. "Thy heart must be no longer under his evil eye!"

"It were far worse than death!" replied the minister. "But how to avoid it? What choice remains to me? Shall I lie down again on these withered leaves, where I cast myself when thou didst tell me what he was? Must I sink down there, and die at once?"

"Alas, what a ruin has befallen thee!" said Hester, with the tears, gushing into her eyes. "Wilt thou die for very weakness? There is no other cause!"

"The judgment of God is on me," answered the conscience-stricken priest. "It is too mighty for me to struggle with!"

"Heaven would show mercy," rejoined Hester, "hadst thou but the strength to take advantage of it."

"Be thou strong for me!" answered he. "Advise me what to do."

"Is the world, then, so narrow?" exclaimed Hester Prynne, fixing her deep eyes on the minister's, and instinctively exercising a magnetic power over a spirit so shattered and subdued that it could hardly hold itself erect. "Doth the universe lie within the compass of yonder town, which only a little time ago was but a leaf-strewn desert, as lonely as this around us? Whither leads yonder forest-track? Backward to the settlement, thou sayest! Yes; but onward, too! Deeper it goes, and deeper, into the wilderness, less plainly to be seen at every step; until, some few miles hence, the yellow leaves will show no vestige of the white man's tread. There thou art free! So brief a journey would bring thee from a world where thou hast been most wretched, to one where thou mayest still be happy! Is there not shade enough in all this boundless forest to hide thy heart from the gaze of Roger Chillingworth?"

"Yes, Hester; but only under the fallen leaves!" replied the minister, with a sad smile.

"Then there is the broad pathway of the sea!" continued Hester. "It brought thee hither. If thou so choose, it will bear thee back again. In our native land, whether in some remote rural village or in vast London- or, surely, in Germany, in France, in pleasant Italy- thou wouldst be beyond his power and knowledge! And what hast thou to do with all these iron men, and their opinions? They have kept thy better part in bondage too long already!"

"It cannot be!" answered the minister, listening as if he were called upon to realise a dream. "I am powerless to go! Wretched and sinful as I am, I have had no other thought than to drag on my earthly existence in the sphere where Providence hath placed me. Lost as my own soul is, I would still do what I may for other human souls! I dare not quit my post, though an unfaithful sentinel, whose sure reward is death and dishonour, when his dreary watch shall come to an end!"

"Thou art crushed under this seven years' weight of misery," replied Hester, fervently resolved to buoy him up with her own energy. "But thou shalt leave it all behind thee! It shall not cumber thy steps, as thou treadest along the forest-path; neither shalt thou freight the ship with it, if thou prefer to cross the sea. Leave this wreck and ruin here where it hath happened. Meddle no more with it! Begin all anew! Hast thou exhausted possibility in the failure of this one trial? Not so! The future is yet full of trial and success. There is happiness to be enjoyed! There is good to be done! Exchange this false life of thine for a true one. Be, if thy spirit summon thee to such a mission, the teacher and apostle of the red men. Or- as is more thy nature- be a scholar and a sage among the wisest and the most renowned of the cultivated world. Preach! Write! Act! Do anything, save to lie down and die! Give up this name of Arthur Dimmesdale, and make thyself another, and a high one, such as thou canst wear without fear or shame. Why wouldst thou tarry so much as one other day in the torments that have so gnawed into thy life!- that have made thee feeble to will and to do!- that will leave thee powerless even to repent! Up, and away!"

"O Hester!" cried Arthur Dimmesdale, in whose eyes a fitful light, kindled by her enthusiasm, flashed up and died away, "thou tellest of running a race to a man whose knees are tottering beneath him! I must die here! There is not the strength or courage left me to venture into the wide, strange, difficult world, alone!"

It was the last expression of the despondency of a broken spirit. He lacked energy to grasp the better fortune that seemed within his reach.

He repeated the word.

"Alone, Hester!"

"Thou shalt not go alone!" answered she, in a deep whisper.

Then, all was spoken!

尽管牧师走得很慢，也几乎要走过去了，可海丝特·白兰还是提不起声音喊他。最后，她总算叫了出来。

“阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔！”她说，起初有气无力，后来声音倒是放开了，可是有些沙哑。“阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔！”

“是谁在说话？”牧师应声说。

他立刻提起精神，挺直身子站住了，就象是一个人正处于不想被人看见的心情之中，突然吃了一惊似的。他急切地循声望去，模模糊糊地看见树下有个人影，身上的服色十分晦暗，在阴霾的天空和浓密的树荫遮得连正午都极为膝脆的昏幽之中，简直难以分辨，’他根本说不上那儿是个女人还是个影子。也许，在他的人生旅途上，常有这么一个幽灵从他的思想里溜出来纠缠他吧。

他向前迈了一步，发现了红字。

“海丝特！海丝特·白兰！”他说。“是你吗？你是活人吗？”

“岂止如此！”她回答说。“我已经这样生活了七年了！而你呢，阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔，你还活着吗？”

他俩这样互相询问对方的肉体的实际存在，甚至怀疑自己还活着，是不足为奇的。他们在这幽暗的树林中如此不期而遇，简直象是两个幽灵，出了坟墓之后在世上首次避遁：他们的前世曾经关系密切，但如今却站在那里打着冷战，都让对方给吓坏了；似乎既不熟悉自己的状态，又不惯于与脱离了肉体的存在为伴。双方都是鬼魂，但又被对方的鬼魂吓得不知所措！他们其实也被自己吓得不知所措；因为这一紧急关头又重新勾起他们的意识，并向各自的心头揭示了自己的历史和经历，那是除去这种令人窒息的时刻，平常的人生中所从来没有的。灵魂在逝去的瞬间的镜子中看到了自己的模样。阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔恰恰是心怀恐惧，周身战抖，并且事实上缓慢而勉强地伸出他那死人一般冰冷的手，触摸到海丝特·白兰的发凉的手。这两手的相握虽然冷漠，但却驱散了相会时最阴沉的东西。他们此时至少感到双方是同一天地中的居民了。

他俩没再多说，况且哪一个也没有引路，只是凭着一种默契，便一起退到海丝特刚才走出的树荫中，双双坐在她和珠儿坐过的那堆青苔上。他们好不容易才开口讲话，起初只是象两个熟人那样搭汕两句，说说天空阴沉，就要有暴风雨了，后来便谈到各自的健康情况。他们就这样谈下去，小心翼翼地，一步一步地，扯到深深埋藏在心底的话题。由于命运和环境这多年来将他们相互隔绝，他们就需要些轻松的阔谈来开头，然后再敞开交谈的大门，把他们的真实思想领进门限。

过了一会，牧师的目光紧紧盯住海丝特·白兰的眼睛。

“海丝特，”他说，“你得到平静了吗？”

她凄楚地笑了笑，垂下眼睛看着自己胸前。

“你呢？”她反问……

“没有！——除了绝望再无其它！”他回答说。“作为我这样一个人，过着我这样的生活，我又能指望什么呢？如果我是一个无神论者，——一个丧尽良心的人，——一个本性粗野的恶棍，——或许我早就得到了平静。不，我本来就不该失去它的！不过，就我的灵魂而论，无论我身上原先有什么好品质，上帝所赐予的一切最精美的天赋已经全都变成了精神折磨的执行者。海丝特，我实在太痛苦了！”

“人们都尊重你，”海丝特说。“而且说实在的，你在他们中间确实做着好事！这一点难道还不能给你带来慰藉吗？”

“益发痛苦，海丝特！——只能是益发痛苦！”牧师苦笑着回答说。“至于我表面上做的那些好事，我也毫无信念可言。那不过是一种幻觉罢了。象我这样一个灵魂已经毁灭的人，又能为拯救他人的灵魂做出什么有效之举呢？——或者说，一个亵渎的灵魂能够净化他人吗？至于别人对我的尊重，我宁愿统统变成轻蔑与愤懑！我不得不站在布道坛上，迎着那么多仰望着我的面孔的眼睛，似乎我脸上在发散天国之光！我不得不看着我那群渴望真理的羔羊聆听我的话语，象是一只‘火焰的舌头’在讲话！可是我再向自己的内心一看，却辨出了他们所崇拜的东西中丑陋的真相！海丝特，你能认为这是一种慰藉吗？我曾在内心的极度辛酸悲苦之中，放声嘲笑我的表里不一！撒旦也是这样嘲笑的！”

“你在这一点上冤枉了自己，”海丝特温和地说。“你已经深刻而痛彻地悔过了。’你的罪过早已在逝去的岁月中被你抛弃在身后了。说实在的，你目前的生活并不比人们心目中的神圣的弥差什么。你这样大做好事来弥补和证实你的悔过，难道还不是真心诚意，实实在在的吗？为什么还不能给你带来平静呢？”“不成，海丝特，不成啊！”牧师应道。“其中并没有实实在在的东西！那是冰冷与死寂的，对我毫无用处！忏悔嘛，我已经做得够多的了！可是悔过呢，还一点没有！不然的话，我早就该抛掉这貌似神圣的道袍，象人们在最后审判席上看到我的那样，袒露给他们看了。你是有幸的，海丝特，因为你能把红字公开地戴在胸前！可我的红字却在秘密地灼烧！你简直想象不出，在经过七年之久的欺骗的折磨之后，看到一双眼睛能够认清我是什么货色，我的心内有多么轻松！假如我有一个朋友——或者说，哪怕他是我最恶毒的敌人！——能够让我在受到别人赞扬得难过的时候，随时到他那儿去一下，让他知道我是一切罪人中最可耻的，我想，这样我的灵魂或许还可得以生存。只消这小小的一点真诚就可以挽救我！可是，如今呢，一切全是虚伪！——全是空虚！——全是死亡！”

海丝特·白兰凝视着他的面孔，迟迟没有开口。不过，他如此激烈地说出长期压抑的情感，这番话倒给了她一个机会，正好借以说出她来此想谈的事。她克服了内心的畏惧，终于启齿了。

“象你此时所希望有的那样一个朋友，”她说，“以便可以哭诉一下你的罪过，不是已经有我了嘛——我是你的同案犯啊！”——她又迟疑了，但还是咬了咬牙，把话说了出来。——“你也早就有了那样一个敌人，你还和他同住在一所房子里呢2”牧师猛地站起身来，大口喘着租气，紧紧抓住胸口，象是要把心抠出来。

“啊！你说什么！”他叫道。“一个敌人！而且跟我住在一起！你是什么意思？”

海丝特·白兰如今才充分意识到，这个不幸的男人所受的伤害有多深，她对此是有责任的，她不该允许那个一心抱着恶毒动机的人在他身边摆布他这么些年，其实即使是一瞬间也不该的。那个心怀叵测的人不管蒙上什么面具来遮掩，仅仅接近一下象阿瑟，丁梅斯代尔那样敏感的人，就足以扰乱他的方寸了。有一段时间，海丝特没怎么动脑筋考虑这一点；也许是因为她自己痛不欲生，而把他的厄运看得比较容易忍受，也就没去过问他。但自从他那天晚上夜游以来，最近她对他的全部同情都变得又温柔又有力了。如今她对他的心看得更准了。她毫不怀疑，罗杰·齐灵渥斯没日没夜地守在他身边，他那不可告人的险恶用心毒化了他周围的气氛，他那医生的身分对牧师的身心痈疾具有权威性的影响——这一切都构成了达到残酷目的的可乘之机。凡此种种，使那个受苦人的良心始终处于一种烦躁状态，长此以往，不但不会以有益健康的痛苦治愈他，反而会紊乱和腐蚀他的精神生命。其结果，他在世间难以不弄得精神错乱，之后则与“真”和“善”永远绝缘，其现世的表现就是疯狂。

这就是她带给那个男人的毁灭，而那个男人正是她一度——唉，我们何必不直说呢？——而且至今仍满怀激情地爱恋着的！海丝特觉得，正如她最近对罗杰·齐灵渥斯所说，牺牲掉牧师的好名声，甚至让他死掉，都比她原先所选择的途径要强得多。如今，与其把这极其严重的错误坦白出来，她宁可高高兴兴地躺在这林中落叶之上，死在阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔脚旁。

“啊，阿瑟，”她叫道，“原谅我吧！不管我有什么不好，我可一直想努力作一个诚实的人！诚实是我可以仅守的美德，而且不管有什么艰难险阻，我也确实牢牢守住了这一美德；只有一条例外，那就是当你的利益、你的生命、你的名誉受到挑战的时候！只有在这种时候，我才同意采取欺骗的手段。但说谎永远不能算是好事，哪怕退路是死亡的威胁！你难道还不明白我要说的话吗？那个老人！——那个医生！——就是人们叫他罗杰·齐灵渥斯的那个人！——他是我过去的丈夫！”

牧师以他的激情的全部冲动，看了她一会儿，这种激情以各种形态同他那比较高尚、比较纯洁、比较温柔的品德混杂在一起，事实上是恶魔在他身上所占领的阵地，并借以战胜其它的那部分。海丝特还从来没见过这么阴暗、这么凶猛的脸色。在那理额皱眉的刹那间，那可真是一种阴森的变脸。但他本人已经给折磨得十分虚弱，即使这种较低劣的表现也只能是转瞬即逝的挣扎。他一屁股坐在地上，把脸埋在双手之中。

“我早就该明白了，”他油油地说。“我其实早就知道了！从我第一眼看到他起，直到后来每次见到他，我的心都会退缩，这难道不是向我泄露了秘密吗？我怎么还没明白呢？噢，海丝特·白兰，你简直，你根本不懂这件事有多可怕！有多无耻！——有多粗鄙！——竟然把一颗病弱和犯罪的心暴露给幸灾乐祸地注视着的眼睛，丑得有多可怕啊！女人啊，女人啊，你要对此负责的！我不能原谅你！”

“你应当原谅我！”海丝特一边叫着，一边扑倒在落叶上，躺在他身边。“让上帝来惩罚吧！你得原谅我！”

她怀着突然和绝望的柔情，猛地伸出两臂搂住了他，并且把他的头靠在她胸前；她没有顾及这样一来，他的面颊恰好贴在那红字上。他本想抽身出来，但是动弹不得。海丝特不肯放松他，以免看见他盯望着她面孔的那种严厉表情。整整七年，全世界都曾经对她，对她这孤苦无依的女人，皱起眉头，但她还是挺过来了，从来没有一次掉转开她那坚定而伤心的目光。上天也同样向她皱眉，但她活了过来。然而，这个苍白虚弱、负罪而伤透心的男人的皱眉，却是海丝特所忍受不了，会让她死掉的！

“你还得原谅我！”她一遍又一遍地重复着。“你别皱眉好吗？你肯原谅我吗？”

“我一定原谅你，海丝特，”牧师终于回答了，同时深深地叹了一口气，那是发自悲伤而不是气愤的深渊的。“我现在爽快地原谅你。愿上帝饶恕我们俩吧！海丝特，我们并不是世上最坏的罪人。还有一个人，甚至比受到玷污的教士还要坏！那老人的复仇比我的罪过更见不得人。他阴险地凌辱一颗神圣不可侵犯的心灵。你和我，海丝特，从来没干过这种事！”

“从来没有，从来没有！”她悄声说。“我们的所作所为其本身是一种神圣的贡献。我们是这样看的！我们在一起说过的！你忘了吗？”

“嘘，海丝特！”阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔说着，从地上站起身来。

“没有；我没忘！”’

他俩重新坐下；肩并着肩，手握着手，就这样坐在长满青苔的倒下的树干上。这是生命赋予他们的最阴郁的时刻；这是生命旅途早就引导他们走来的地方，而且在他们的不知不觉之中越走越黑暗；然而此时此地却包含着一种魅力，叫他们留连忘返，期望着能够再停留一会儿，再停留一会儿，终归仍是再停留一会儿。四下的森林朦胧一片，一阵风吹过，响起噼啪之声。粗大的树枝在他们的头上沉重地摇晃；一棵肃穆的老树对另一棵树悲声低吟，仿佛在倾诉树下坐着的这一对人儿的伤心的故事，或是在不得不预告那行将到来的邪恶。

然而他们仍然不肯回去。那通往居民区的林中小路看来有多么沉闷，一回到那居民区，海丝特·白兰就得重新负起她那耻辱的重荷，而牧师则要再次戴上他那好名声的空虚的面具！因此他们就又多呆了一会儿。金色的光辉从来没有象在这黑树林的幽暗中这么可贵。在这里，红字只有他一个人的眼睛能够看见，也就不必烧进那堕落的女人的胸膛中去了！在这里，对上帝和人类都虚伪的阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔也只有她一人的眼睛能够看见，也就在这片刻之间变得诚实了！

他为突然闪现的一个念头而惊跳起来。

“海丝特，”他叫道，“如今又有了一种新的可怕之处！罗杰·齐灵渥斯既然知道了你有意要揭示他的真实身份，那么，他还肯继续保持我们的秘密吗？今后他将采取什么途径来复仇呢？”

“他生性喜欢诡秘从事，”海丝特沉思着回答说；“而且这一秉性已经随着他悄悄行使他的复仇计划而益发牢固了。我认为他大概不会泄露这个秘密。他肯定会谋求另外的手段来满足他那不可告人的感情。”

“可是我啊！——同这样一个死对头呼吸同一处的空气，我又怎么能够活得长久呢？”阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔惊呼着，心里一沉，神经质地用手去捂住心口——他的这种姿势已经变得不由自主了。“为我想一想吧，海丝特！你是坚强的。替我想个办法吧！”

“你不能继续跟他住在一起了，”海丝特说，语气徐缓而坚定。“你的心再也不能处于他那双邪恶的眼睛的监视之下了！

“这可比死还要糟糕得多！”牧师应道。“但是怎么来避免呢？我还有什么选择呢？你刚才告诉我他是什么人时，我就一屁股坐在了这些枯叶上，可是我还要倒在这里吗？我应该沉沦于此，并且马上死掉吗？”

“天啊！你已经给毁成什么样子啦！”海丝特说着，泪水涌进了她的眼睛。“你难道就因为软弱而要死吗？此外再没有别的原因了！”

“上帝的裁判正落在我身上，”那位受到良心震撼的牧师回答说。“那力量太强大，我挣扎不动了！”

“上帝会显示仁慈的，”海丝特接口说，“只要你有力气来接受就成。”

“你帮我振作振作吧！”他回答说。“给我出个主意该怎么办。”

“你说，这世界是这么狭小吗？”海丝特·白兰一边高声说着，一边用她那深沉的目光注视着牧师的眼睛，她的目光本能地有一种磁石般的效力，作用在那涣散消沉得简直无法撑持自己的精神之上。“难道整个天地就只在那边那小镇的范围之内吗？只在不久之前，那里还是一片撒满落时的荒野，和我们现在呆的这地方差不多凄凉。那林中小径是通往何处的呢？你会说，是返回居民区的！不错；但是还可以再往前走啊。它越往深处去，就更源源地通向蛮荒野地，每走一步，人们就会越看不清它，直到再走不多久，枯黄的落叶上便不见白人的足迹了。到那里，你就自由了！只消走这短短的一程路，就可以把你从使你万分苦恼的世界带到你仍可享受到幸福的地方！在这无边无际的大森林里难道还没有一处树荫足以将你的心隐藏起来，不让罗杰·齐灵渥斯监视吗？”

“是有的，海丝特；不过只是在这些落叶之下！”牧师苦笑着回答说。

“何况还有海上的宽阔航道！”海丝特继续说。“是它把你带到了这里。只要你愿意，它还可以把你再送回去。在我们的祖国，不管是在偏僻的农村，还是在大城市伦敦——或者，当然还有德国、法国、以及令人愉快的意大利，——你都会超出他努力所及并且不为他所知晓！到那时，你与这些铁石心肠的人们，还有他们的看法，又有什么关系呢？他们已经尽其所能把你禁锢这么久了！”

“那可不成！”牧师回答，听他那口气，就象是要他去实现一场梦。“我根本没力气去。象我这样一个悲惨的罪人，只有—个念头，就是在上天已经安排给我的地域里了此残生。既然我已经失去了自己的灵魂，我只有继续尽我所能来拯救别的灵魂！虽说我是个不忠于职守的哨兵，等到这种沉网的守望终了的时候，我所能得到的报酬只能是不光彩的死亡，但我仍不敢擅离岗位！”

“你已经给这长达七年的不幸的重荷压垮了，”海丝特应着，热心地用自己的精力给他鼓劲。“但是你应该把这一切都抛在身后！当你沿着林中小径走去时，你不该让它拖累你的脚步，如果你想跨海东归，你也不该把它带到船上。把你遭受到的一切损害都留在发生地吧。不要再去理睬它！一切从新开始！这次尝试失败了，你就不可能再干了吗？不是这样的！未来还是充满尝试和成功的。还有幸福有待你去享有！还有好事要你去做！把你的虚伪的生活变成真实的生活吧。如果你的精神召唤你去从事这一使命，就到红种印第安人中间去作牧师和使徒吧。或者，——也许更符合你的秉性——在有教养的世界的那些最聪明和最著名的人们中间去作一名学者和圣哲吧。你可以去布道！去写作！去有一番作为！你可以做任何事情，只要不躺下死掉！放弃阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔这个姓名，给你自己另起一个，换一个更高贵的，好使你在那姓名下不会感到恐惧和耻辱。你何必还要一天天陷在蚕食着你生命的痛苦之中！——它已经削弱了你的意志和行动！——它已经折磨得你甚至无力去悔改了！挺身起来，离开这里吧！”

“噢，海丝特！”阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔喊道，她的热情在他的眼中燃起一道闪光，亮了一下就又熄灭了，“你是在鼓励一个两膝发抖的人去赛跑！我身上已经没有力量和勇气独自到那广袤、陌生和困难的天地去闯荡了！”

这是一颗破碎的心完全沮丧的最后表示。他没有力气去抓住那似是唾手可得的幸运。

他又重复了一遍那个字眼。

“独自一人啊，海丝特！”

“不会叫你独自一人前往的！”她深沉地悄声回答说。

这样，话就全讲明了！