Червона літера
Hester at Her Needle
Damesofelevatedrank,likewise,whosedoorssheenteredinthewayofheroccupation,wereaccustomedtodistildropsofbitternessintoherheart;sometimesthroughthatalchemyofquietmalice,bywhichwomencanconcoctasubtlepoisonfromordinarytrifles;andsometimes,also,byacoarserexpression,thatfelluponthesufferer’sdefencelessbreastlikearoughblowuponanulceratedwound.Hesterhadschooledherselflongandwell;andsheneverrespondedtotheseattacks,savebyaflushofcrimsonthatroseirrepressiblyoverherpalecheek,andagainsubsidedintothedepthsofherbosom.Shewaspatient—amartyr,indeedbutsheforeboretoprayforenemies,lest,inspiteofherforgivingaspirations,thewordsoftheblessingshouldstubbornlytwistthemselvesintoacurse.
Continually,andinathousandotherways,didshefeeltheinnumerablethrobsofanguishthathadbeensocunninglycontrivedforherbytheundying,theever-activesentenceofthePuritantribunal.Clergymenpausedinthestreets,toaddresswordsofexhortation,thatbroughtacrowd,withitsmingledgrinandfrown,aroundthepoor,sinfulwoman.Ifsheenteredachurch,trustingtosharetheSabbathsmileoftheUniversalFather,itwasoftenhermishaptofindherselfthetextofthediscourse.Shegrewtohaveadreadofchildren;fortheyhadimbibedfromtheirparentsavagueideaofsomethinghorribleinthisdrearywomanglidingsilentlythroughthetown,withneveranycompanionbutoneonlychild.
