Scene II
—A Churchyard. A bell ringing for service. Groups of people standing about. Persons cross stage and enter church door on extreme L.
Bronson. They say the Reverend Master Dimsdell hath
Recovered from his fainting fit, and will,
God willing, preach to us this afternoon.
Langdon. Aye, that he will.
Arnold. But hath he come?
Ward. Not yet;
He’s late, but, whether here or elsewhere,
He’s always doing good.
Bronson. A kindly man!
His feet do tread th’ o’ergrown path that leads
Unto the poor man’s door.
Langdon. Aye, that they do!
And, in the darkened hour of mortal grief,
His presence like a lamp gives light and hope.
Arnold. His charity exceeds all human bounds,
And, though he’s blameless in himself, knows how
To pardon others.
Ward. Aye, that he doth! Didst note
His plea for Hester Prynne upon her trial?
Langdon. Aye, that I did!
Ward. But know the goodness of it!
He was her constant friend up to the time
Her wantonness declared itself, and then
He left her lonely, as though that punishment
Were all a man of mercy could inflict.
Arnold. He takes it much to heart that wanton vice
Hath found a nest within his congregation.
Langdon. That grief is truly great with him; but yet
He will not hear a word against her.—Look!
For here she comes.
How bravely doth she wear her scarlet letter!
Enter Hester Prynne alone; walks proudly, with slow steps, to porch and enters church; looking neither to the right nor to the left, but straight before her, with her head up. People turn to look at her, but no one speaks.
First Woman. The brazen thing!
Second Woman. Didst note the fashion of her badge of vice,
And how she’s turned it into ornament?
Third Woman. A handy woman with her needle.
First Woman. Let’s in and stare her out of countenance.
[Exeunt Women.
Enter Governor Bellingham and Roger Prynne, called Doctor Chillingworth.
Governor. Now, as I told you, there hath lately come,
But how I know not, a change in him so rare,
It baffles cure.
Roger. I think you said he is
A very studious man?
Governor. Aye, that he is.
Good evening, gentlemen.
All. Your worship.
Roger. I pray you, tell me more.
Governor. Nay, use your eyes,
For here he is.
Enter Rev. Arthur Dimsdell. People uncover as he passes. He salutes them gravely and generally.
Dimsdell, a word with you.
Dimsdell. Good evening, gentlemen.
Governor. Dimsdell, here is good Doctor Chillingworth,
Who tended thee. I hope you gentlemen
Will prize each other at your native worths.
Dimsdell. I shall be glad to know you better, Doctor.
Roger. And I, to see you better, sir.
Dimsdell. Pardon me, I must in; I’m late already.
Exit Dimsdell—all follow except Governor Bellingham and Roger Prynne. Bell ceases.
Governor. How weak a hold we have on health! That man
Is but the standing ruin of his former self,
And yet, for beauty, comeliness and grace,
He still is model to the colony.
What do you think, can care restore him yet,
And give him to us as he used to be?
Roger. I cannot tell. I need more knowledge of him.
There are no marks of cureless malady—
A faint suggestion of overwatchfulness,
That oft points out the student—nothing more.
Hymn from church. (Tune: “Ein’ feste Burg” or other ancient hymn used by the Puritans.)
Governor. The worship hath begun; but, ere we in,
A word about the wealth you left with me.
Roger. No more. Pray use it as your own, in trade,
Or howsoe’er you choose. The largest pearl
An Indian chief did give me; but sell it with
The rest, and with their worth provide for Hester.
She is the widow of mine ancient friend,
To whom I ever shall be much indebted,
And while I would not have her know me yet
As what I am—her husband’s friend and hers—
As that might breed more grief in her, or wake
An old one—yet I think it meet to care
For her and for her child.
Governor. Your goodness is
Your passport, Doctor. Come, let us in.—Nay,
After you; you are my guest.
[Exeunt.