Червона літера
Hester and Pearl
Wouldnottheearth,quickenedtoanevilpurposebythesympathyofhiseye,greethimwithpoisonousshrubsofspecieshithertounknown,thatwouldstartupunderhisfingers?Ormightitsufficehimthateverywholesomegrowthshouldbeconvertedintosomethingdeleteriousandmalignantathistouch?Didthesun,whichshonesobrightlyeverywhereelse,reallyfalluponhim?Orwasthere,asitratherseemed,acircleofominousshadowmovingalongwithhisdeformitywhicheverwayheturnedhimself?Andwhitherwashenowgoing?Wouldhenotsuddenlysinkintotheearth,leavingabarrenandblastedspot,where,induecourseoftime,wouldbeseendeadlynightshade,dogwood,henbane,andwhateverelseofvegetablewickednesstheclimatecouldproduce,allflourishingwithhideousluxuriance?Orwouldhespreadbat’swingsandfleeaway,lookingsomuchtheuglierthehigherherosetowardsheaven?
"Beitsinorno,"saidHesterPrynne,bitterly,asstillshegazedafterhim,"Ihatetheman!"
Sheupbraidedherselfforthesentiment,butcouldnotovercomeorlessenit.Attemptingtodoso,shethoughtofthoselong-pastdaysinadistantland,whenheusedtoemergeateventidefromtheseclusionofhisstudyandsitdowninthefirelightoftheirhome,andinthelightofhernuptialsmile.Heneededtobaskhimselfinthatsmile,hesaid,inorderthatthechillofsomanylonelyhoursamonghisbooksmightbetakenoffthescholar’sheart.
