Мхи старой усадьбы
Young Goodman Brown
Theversediedheavilyaway,andwaslengthenedbyachorus,notofhumanvoices,butofallthesoundsofthebenightedwildernesspealinginawfulharmonytogether.GoodmanBrowncriedout,andhiscrywaslosttohisownearbyitsunisonwiththecryofthedesert.
Intheintervalofsilencehestoleforwarduntilthelightglaredfulluponhiseyes.Atoneextremityofanopenspace,hemmedinbythedarkwalloftheforest,arosearock,bearingsomerude,naturalresemblanceeithertoanaltarorapulpit,andsurroundedbyfourblazingpines,theirtopsaflame,theirstemsuntouched,likecandlesataneveningmeeting.Themassoffoliagethathadovergrownthesummitoftherockwasallonfire,blazinghighintothenightandfitfullyilluminatingthewholefield.Eachpendenttwigandleafyfestoonwasinablaze.Astheredlightaroseandfell,anumerouscongregationalternatelyshoneforth,thendisappearedinshadow,andagaingrew,asitwere,outofthedarkness,peoplingtheheartofthesolitarywoodsatonce.
"Agraveanddark-cladcompany,"quothGoodmanBrown.
Intruththeyweresuch.Amongthem,quiveringtoandfrobetweengloomandsplendor,appearedfacesthatwouldbeseennextdayatthecouncilboardoftheprovince,andotherswhich,SabbathafterSabbath,lookeddevoutlyheavenward,andbenignantlyoverthecrowdedpews,fromtheholiestpulpitsintheland.Someaffirmthattheladyofthegovernorwasthere.
