Мхи старої садиби
Young Goodman Brown
Verseafterversewassung;andstillthechorusofthedesertswelledbetweenlikethedeepesttoneofamightyorgan;andwiththefinalpealofthatdreadfulanthemtherecameasound,asiftheroaringwind,therushingstreams,thehowlingbeasts,andeveryothervoiceoftheunconcertedwildernesswereminglingandaccordingwiththevoiceofguiltymaninhomagetotheprinceofall.Thefourblazingpinesthrewupaloftierflame,andobscurelydiscoveredshapesandvisagesofhorroronthesmokewreathsabovetheimpiousassembly.Atthesamemomentthefireontherockshotredlyforthandformedaglowingarchaboveitsbase,wherenowappearedafigure.Withreverencebeitspoken,thefigureborenoslightsimilitude,bothingarbandmanner,tosomegravedivineoftheNewEnglandchurches.
"Bringforththeconverts!"criedavoicethatechoedthroughthefieldandrolledintotheforest.
Attheword,GoodmanBrownsteppedforthfromtheshadowofthetreesandapproachedthecongregation,withwhomhefeltaloathfulbrotherhoodbythesympathyofallthatwaswickedinhisheart.Hecouldhavewell-nighswornthattheshapeofhisowndeadfatherbeckonedhimtoadvance,lookingdownwardfromasmokewreath,whileawoman,withdimfeaturesofdespair,threwoutherhandtowarnhimback.Wasithismother?Buthehadnopowertoretreatonestep,nortoresist,eveninthought,whentheministerandgoodoldDeaconGookinseizedhisarmsandledhimtotheblazingrock.
