THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 14

Description

• Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne

HESTER bade little Pearl run down to the margin of the water, and play  
with the shells and tangled seaweed, until she should have talked awhile  
with yonder gatherer of herbs. So the child flew away like a bird,  
and, making bare her small white feet, went pattering along the  
moist margin of the sea. Here and there she came to a full stop, and  
peeped curiously into a pool, left by the retiring tide as a mirror  
for Pearl to see her face in. Forth peeped at her, out of the pool,  
with dark, glistening curls around her head, and an elf-smile in her  
eyes, the image of a little maid, whom Pearl, having no other playmate,  
invited to take her hand, and run a race with her. But the visionary  
little maid, on her part, beckoned likewise, as if to say, "This  
is a better place! Come thou into the pool!" And Pearl, stepping in,  
mid-leg deep, beheld her own white feet at the bottom; while, out  
of a still lower depth, came the gleam of a kind of fragmentary smile,  
floating to and fro in the agitated water.



Meanwhile, her mother had accosted the physician.



"I would speak a word with you," said she- "a word that concerns us much."



"Aha! and is it Mistress Hester that has a word for old Roger Chillingworth?"  
answered he, raising himself from his stooping posture.  
"With all my heart! Why, mistress, I hear good tidings of you,  
on all hands! No longer ago than yester-eve, a magistrate, a wise and  
godly man, was discoursing of your affairs, Mistress Hester, and whispered  
me that there had been question concerning you in the council.  
It was debated whether or no, with safety to the common weal, yonder  
scarlet letter might be taken off your bosom. On my life, Hester,  
I made my entreaty to the worshipful magistrate that it might be  
done forthwith!"



"It lies not in the pleasure of the magistrates to take off this  
badge." calmly replied Hester. "Were I worthy to be quit of it, it would fall away of its own nature, or be transformed into something that should speak a different purport."



"Nay, then, wear it, if it suit you better," rejoined he. "A woman must needs follow her own fancy touching the adornment of her person. The letter is gaily embroidered, and shows right bravely on your bosom!"



All this while, Hester had been looking steadily at the old man, and  
was shocked, as well as wonder-smitten, to discern what a change had been wrought upon him within the past seven years. It was not so much that he had grown older; for though the traces of advancing life were visible, he bore his age well, and seemed to retain a wiry vigour and alertness. But the former aspect of an intellectual and studious man, calm and quiet, which was what she best remembered in him, had altogether vanished, and been succeeded by an eager, searching, almost fierce, yet carefully guarded look. It seemed to be his wish and purpose to mask this expression with a smile; but the latter played him false, and flickered over his visage so derisively, that the spectator could see his blackness all the better for it. Ever and anon, too, there came a glare of red light  
out of his eyes; as if the old man's soul were on fire, and kept  
on smouldering duskily within his breast, until, by some casual  
puff of passion, it was blown into a momentary flame. This he  
repressed, as speedily as possible, and strove to look as if  
nothing of the kind had happened.



In a word, old Roger Chillingworth was a striking evidence of man's  
faculty of transforming himself into a devil, if he will only, for  
a reasonable space of time, undertake a devil's office. This unhappy  
person had effected such a transformation, by devoting himself,  
for seven years, to the constant analysis of a heart full of  
torture, and deriving his enjoyment thence, and adding fuel to those  
fiery tortures which he analysed and gloated over.



The scarlet letter burned on Hester Prynne's bosom. Here was another  
ruin, the responsibility of which came partly home to her.



"What see you in my face," asked the physician, "that you look at it so earnestly?"



"Something that would make me weep, if there were any tears bitter enough for it," answered she. "But let it pass! It is of  
yonder miserable man that I would speak."



"And what of him?" cried Roger Chillingworth eagerly, as if he loved the topic, and were glad of an pportunity  
to discuss it with the only person of whom he could make a  
confidant. "Not to hide the truth, Mistress Hester, my  
thoughts happen just now to be busy with the gentleman. So speak  
freely; and I will make answer."



"When we last spake together," said Hester, "now seven years ago, it was your pleasure to extort a promise of secrecy, as touching the former relation betwixt yourself and me. As the life and good fame of yonder man were in your hands, there seemed no choice to me, save to be silent, in accordance with your behest. Yet it was not without heavy misgivings that I thus bound myself; for, having cast off all duty towards other human beings, there remained a duty towards him; and something whispered me that I was betraying it, in pledging myself to keep your counsel. Since that  
day, no man is so near to him as you. You tread behind his every  
footstep. You are beside him, sleeping and waking. You search  
his thoughts. You burrow and rankle in his heart! Your clutch is  
on his life, and you cause him to die daily a living death; and  
still he knows you not. In permitting this, I have surely acted  
a false part by the only man to whom the power was left me to be  
true!"



"What choice had you?" asked Roger Chillingworth. "My finger, pointed at this man, would have hurled him from his pulpit into a dungeon- thence, peradventure, to the gallows!"



"It had been better so!" said Hester Prynne.



"What evil have I done the man?" asked Roger Chillingworth again. "I tell thee, Hester Prynne, the richest fee that ever physician earned from monarch could not have bought such care as I have wasted on this miserable priest! But for my aid, his life would have burned  
away in torments, within the first two years after the  
perpetration of his crime and thine. For, Hester, his spirit  
lacked the strength that could have borne up, as thine has,  
beneath a burden like thy scarlet letter. Oh, I could reveal a  
goodly secret! But enough! What art can do, I have exhausted on  
him. That he now breathes, and creeps upon earth, is owing all  
to me!"



"Better he had died at once!" said Hester Prynne.



"Yea, woman, thou sayest truly!" cried old Roger Chillingworth, letting the lurid fire of his heart blaze out before her eyes.  
"Better had he died at once! Never did mortal suffer what  
this man has suffered. And all, all, in the sight of his worst  
enemy! He has been conscious of me. He has felt an influence  
dwelling always upon him like a curse. He knew, by some  
spiritual sense- for the Creator never made another being so  
sensitive as this- he knew that no friendly hand was pulling at  
his heart-strings, and that an eye was looking curiously into  
him, which sought only evil, and found it. But he knew not that  
the eye and hand were mine! With the superstition common to his  
brotherhood, he fancied himself given over to a fiend, to be tortured  
with frightful dreams, and desperate thoughts, the sting of remorse,  
and despair of pardon; as a foretaste of what awaits him beyond  
the grave. But it was the constant shadow of my presence!- the  
closest propinquity of the man whom he had most vilely wronged!- and  
who had grown to exist only by this perpetual poison of the direst revenge!  
Yea, indeed!- he did not err!- there was a fiend at his elbow! A  
mortal man, with once a human heart, has become a fiend for his  
especial torment!"



The unfortunate physician, while uttering these words, lifted his hands  
with a look of horror, as if he had beheld some frightful shape, which  
he could not recognise, usurping the place of his own image in a glass.  
It was one of those moments- which sometimes occur only at the  
interval of years- when a man's moral aspect is faithfully revealed  
to his mind's eye. Not improbably, he had never before viewed himself  
as he did now.



"Hast thou not tortured him enough?" said Hester, noticing the old man's look. "Has he not paid thee all?"



"No!- no!- he has but increased the debt!" answered the physician; and as he proceeded, his manner lost its fiercer characteristics, and subsided into gloom. "Dost thou remember me, Hester, as I  
was nine years agone? Even then, I was in the autumn of my days,  
nor was it the early autumn. But all my life had been made up of  
earnest, studious, thoughtful, quiet years, bestowed faithfully  
for the increase of mine own knowledge, and faithfully, too,  
though this latter object was but casual to the other-  
faithfully for the advancement of human welfare. No life had  
been more peaceful and innocent than mine; few lives so rich  
with benefits conferred. Dost thou remember me? Was I not,  
though you might deem me cold, nevertheless a man thoughtful for  
others, craving little for himself- kind, true, just, and of constant,  
if not warm affections? Was I not all this?"



"All this, and more," said Hester.



"And what am I now?" demanded he, looking into her face, and permitting the whole evil within him to be written on his features.  
"I have already told thee what I am! A fiend! Who made me  
so?"



"It was myself!" cried Hester, shuddering. "It was I, not less than he. Why hast thou not avenged thyself on me?"



"I have left thee to the scarlet letter," replied Roger Chillingworth.  
"If that have not avenged me, I can do no more!"



He laid his finger on it, with a smile.



"It has avenged thee!" answered Hester Prynne.



"I judged no less," said the physician. "And now, what wouldst thou with me touching this man?"



"I must reveal the secret," answered Hester firmly. "He must discern thee in thy true character. What may be the result, I know not. But this long debt of confidence, due from me to him, whose bane and ruin I have been, shall at length be paid. So far as concerns the overthrow or preservation of his fair fame and his earthly state, and perchance his life, he is in thy hands. Nor do I- whom the  
scarlet letter has disciplined to truth, though it be the truth  
of red-hot iron, entering into the soul- nor do I perceive such  
advantage in his living any longer a life of ghastly emptiness,  
that I shall stoop to implore thy mercy. Do with him as thou  
wilt! There is no good for him- no good for me- no good for  
thee! There is no good for little Pearl! There is no path to  
guide us out of this dismal maze."



"Woman, I could well-nigh pity thee!" said Roger Chillingworth, unable to restrain a thrill of admiration too; for there was a  
quality almost majestic in the despair which she expressed.  
"Thou hadst great elements. Peradventure, hadst thou met  
earlier with a better love than mine, this evil had not been. I  
pity thee, for the good that has been wasted in thy  
nature!"



"And I thee," answered Hester Prynne, "for the hatred that has transformed a wise and just man to a fiend! Wilt thou yet purge it  
out of thee, and be once more human? If not for his sake, then  
doubly for thine own! Forgive, and leave his further retribution  
to the Power that claims it! I said, but now, that there could  
be no good event for him, or thee, or me, who are here wandering  
together in this gloomy maze of evil, and stumbling, at every  
step, over the guilt wherewith we have strewn our path. It is  
not so! There might be good for thee, and thee alone, since thou  
hast been deeply wronged, and hast it at thy will to pardon.  
Wilt thou give up that only privilege? Wilt thou reject that  
priceless benefit?"



"Peace, Hester, peace!" replied the old man, with gloomy sternness.  
"It is not granted me to pardon. I have no such power as thou  
tellest me of. My old faith, long forgotten, comes back to me, and  
explains all that we do, and all we suffer. By thy first step awry,  
thou didst plant the germ of evil; but since that moment, it has all  
been a dark necessity. Ye that have wronged me are not sinful, save  
in a kind of typical illusion; neither am I fiend-like, who have  
snatched a fiend's office from his hands. It is our fate. Let the black  
flower blossom as it may! Now go thy ways, and deal as thou wilt with  
yonder man."



He waved his hand and betook himself again to his employment of gathering
herbs.

Disclaimer:
Contents of this page are indexed from the Internet. All actions are under your responsability. Email us to report illegal contents or external links and we'll remove them immediately.

Please check the description for download links if any or do a search to find alternative books.

Can't Download?
Please search mirrors if you can't find download links for "THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 14" in "Description" and someone else may update the links. Check the comments when back to find any updates.

Search Mirrors
Maybe some mirror pages will be helpful, search this book at top of this page or click here to find more info.

1. Ebooks list page : 86
2. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 2
3. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 11
4. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 10
5. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 8
6. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 23
7. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 5
8. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 6
9. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 4
10. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 9
11. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 3
12. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 20
13. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 1
14. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 13
15. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 15
16. THE SCARLET LETTER: CHAPTER 21