Scene III
—The Market Place.—Church with Portico, L.—A pillory on a raised Platform, R.—The Governor and Council seated in portico.—A crowd of TOWNSFOLK.
Governor. Now that our other business is dispatched,
Call Hester Prynne.
Wilson. Wise Governor, and you,
My brethren: dried as I am with age,
The tendrils of my heart are pliable;
Nor have the tangles of this thicket-world
So twisted all my grain as not to bend
Before another’s misery. Wherefore,
I do beseech you, call her not.
Governor. Yet must
We try the woman, though we pity her;
And though the scion mercy grafts upon
The stock of justice, the stock is justice still.
Wilson. I plead for justice! even-handed justice!
As blind and cold as death—but with a sword,
Sharp on one side to reach the woman’s heart
And on the other keener for the man’s!
You call the woman; where’s her paramour?
Governor. We do not know.
Wilson. Then grant a stay to Hester
Till he’s known.
Governor. Too late; nor were it good
To let the woman slap the face of law,
And not resent it quickly. Once again,
Call Hester Prynne. The man she may discover.
Enter Rev. Arthur Dimsdell through crowd and goes to Portico.
Crier. Hester Prynne! Hester Prynne!
[Exit.
Dimsdell. Most worthy Governor, I am like one
Who waking hears the village clock toll time,
Yet, having missed the first few strokes, the hour
He cannot tell: and so stand I and hear
Fair Hester called. Is it for trial, or
For punishment?
Governor. For both.
Dimsdell. I am her pastor and I speak for her;
I would to God that I could plead “Not guilty,”
Or in her stead could offer up myself
To satisfy the law!
Crowd. How good he is!
Dimsdell. Gentle and wise she is, grave councilors,
And with a modest meekness goes about
The daily duties of her household care;
Oh! I am sure no vulgar palate-bait
Did lure her to this shame, but some enticement
That took the form of higher nature did
Invest the hook. For she is modesty
Itself.
Governor. Can modesty, then, fall like this?
Dimsdell. The modesty of woman is like the blush
Upon a tender rose; it is her treasure
And her ornament: you cannot touch it,
But it fades away; or breathe upon it,
But it loses perfume; or bring it to the light,
Unwilted.
Governor. True, but when the roses fade
We cast them forth, nor treasure them again.
Dimsdell. ’Tis thus I own; but we have higher teaching.
Our Lord, who knew temptation’s mighty power,
Yet was himself without sin’s damning stain,
Did pass upon a case like this. “Let him
Who hath no sin first cast a stone at her.”
And then He said, “Go, woman, sin no more.”
Oh! wondrous grace that pardoned frailty
Which had not sunk to vice!
Re-enter Crier with Hester Prynne.
Governor. Enough! Here comes the woman.
Hester, thou art accused before this court
Of that which blushing virtue shrinks to name,
Adultery.
Hester. I pray you spare me.
Governor. Thou art the widow of a man of whom
Report spake only praise: no act of thine
Hath openly offended decency,
But that young life which draws its sustenance
From thy round breast avows thy hidden shame.
Hester. Have mercy on the babe, O, God!
Governor. That thou shouldst sin, and thereby, Hester, bring
Dishonor on the name thy spouse did give thee,
Is worse than in a meaner woman. If thou
Hast aught to say to mitigate the wrath
Of justice, speak. And, Hester, bear in mind
The penalty is death or banishment.
Hester. I would not gloze my crime, nor do I know
How to address your worships.
Yet since you bid me I will plead my cause
As best I can.
That I have sinned is true; and well I know
Henceforth for me there’s nothing left from all
My kind but scorn and hate.
For me hath life no charm to cheat my hope,
Or make me wish to linger here; yet I
While lives the child would shelter her, the one
Sweet flower that lovely grows above the soil
Of my most foul debasement.
Although the blossom of iniquity,
She takes no tinct from whence she springs, but rather
Of the sky toward which she doth unfold.
Believe me, sirs,
But for my babe’s dear love, I’d ask for death
To rid me quickly of my misery:
For love itself, dishonored in my being,
Turns all the gentle cords that bind affection
Into hard-knotted thongs to whip me hence.
Therefore, if I do plead for life, think not
I do beseech a favor for myself,
But rather, that I beg a lingering pain,
Than expiate in one quick-ending pang
The sum of all my loathéd wickedness.
Thus, for my tender babe, I ask my life,
And, for myself, I do implore you now,
Banish me not.
As for my crime, I have repented it
Most bitterly; yea, I’ve suffered anguish
From the very hour when, as the spring
Of nature dragged my anchors loose, the soft
Entreaty of a lover’s sigh did blow
Concurrent with my tide, and swept me out
Into a troubled sea.
Now, battered on the rocks of hard opinions,
My most untimely wreck is quite complete;
Yet spare the hulk for that dear freight it bore.
Governor. Woman, I pity thee; now, while our laws
Are strict, yet may our mercy show itself
In staving off the penalty, if thou
Wilt aid us.
Hester. Your mercy comes with hard condition;
For how can I, who stand here helpless,
Aid you who have all power?
Governor. Tell us who is thy paramour?
Hester. That I will not do.
Governor. Thou art most obstinate. What say you now,
Grave councilors? Need we delay the sentence?
Bronson. Quick to forgive and slow in condemnation,
Would be our wisest course in such a case.
The life she hath God gave; we should not take it;
Nor should we banish her, for she is useful,
And with her needle doth assist the poor.
There is provision in our law to fit
This crime when neither death nor banishment
Is proper. It is: [Reading] “Th’ adulteress shall stand
Upon the pillory; and on her breast
Shall wear a scarlet letter A, to mark
Her criminal incontinence.”
Governor. A good
Suggestion truly; we had forgot the clause
From long disuse. What say you?
Ward. I think it wise.
Arnold. ’Twill be more merciful.
Langdon. A living warning ’gainst adultery.
All. It is our suffrage.
Governor. So be it then.
Hester, thou art to stand upon the pillory
A little while, and wear upon thy breast
The Scarlet Letter “A” forever;
This see thou do on pain of instant death
Or banishment. Hath anyone a piece
Of scarlet cloth?
Bronson. I have the letter here prepared.
Governor. Clerk, affix the letter to her breast.
Enter Roger Prynne, clad as in Scene I.—He keeps to the rear of Hester.
Now, Jailer, lead her to the pillory,
There let her stand unbound.
Hester ascends steps to pillory platform.
Dimsdell, you are her pastor, speak to her.
Hold up her sin before her eyes, and warn
The multitude by her example.
Dimsdell. I beg you, sir, let Dr. Wilson speak.
Wilson. Nay, Dimsdell. Nay, the charge is yours.
Speak on. And plead that she disclose the man
Who was her paramour.
Dimsdell. I pray you pardon me. I am not well.
Governor. Not well? ’Tis but compassion weakens thee.
Speak man! thy words are gentlest and will draw
Her secret from her, though ours do seal her lips.
Proceed, Dimsdell.
Dimsdell. We wrong her nature when we seek to know
That which her heart doth teach her to conceal;
Yet at your bidding will I plead with her.
Goes over to pillory.
Hester, look down upon me; let thine ear
Receive my meaning with the sound I make;
Behold in me the body of the Council,
Not me alone; and hear my words as though
The general voice, speaking in concert true,
Did intone them.
For it were vain presumption to expect
That, what the Governor could not extract,
My words alone could move thee to disclose.
Roger. A modest gentleman, truly!
Dimsdell. Upon thy sin I dwell not; the penalty
Which thou dost suffer preaches repentance;
And in thy nature there is naught to lead thee
Twice astray.
There’s not an eye that now doth look upon thee
But pities thee, and doubt thou not, if he
Who wronged thee is present here, his heart is wrung
With bitterest remorse. Wilt speak his name?
Hester. I will not.
Dimsdell. I do command thee by the Commonwealth,
I do entreat thee for thy reputation,
I do implore thee for thy soul’s salvation,
Give up his name.
Hester. I would not breathe his name to anyone;
Nay, not to him who was my husband, though
The sea should cast him up to question me.
Roger. Woman, who did seduce thee?
Hester. I keep my vow.
Dimsdell. Hester, deceive thyself no more; look down
Upon me once again. Believe me, Hester,
No pain the world could now inflict would harm
Thy recreant lover. To see thee here set up
The target of a thousand curious eyes,
Thy beauties blistered in the noonday sun,
Thy gentle breast seared with yon scarlet letter,
Would burn that image on his soul. Have mercy,
Hester, forgive his cowardice, do thou
Act for him; pronounce his name and let him die
To satisfy his crime.
Hester. I will not drag him down with me.
Roger. Oh! glorious generosity misplaced!
Dimsdell. Your generosity hath led you once
Astray; do not allow it now to aid
Him in hypocrisy. For, Hester, you,
Who know his weaknesses and aspirations,
His station in his calling, his place in life
Among us, will be a party to deception
If now you hide his name.
Hester. I answer to my God. No man shall know
That which is only known to me and him.
But speak thou on his crime!
Dimsdell. Ho! all ye people of the commonwealth!
Behold!—let him confess!—O, Hester! speak!—
I see—no more—
[Dimsdell falls.
Throng, confused and amazed, closes around Dimsdell.
Cries of horror and apprehension.
Governor. Look to our brother Dimsdell. He faints;
The heat hath overcome him.
Roger. I am a doctor. Make room!
The falling sickness. Give us breathing space!
Governor. Hester, thou art discharged. Let all go home!
[Exeunt.