Chapter 18 A FLOOD OF SUNSHINE
ARTHUR DIMMESDALE gazed into Hester's face with a look in which hope and joy shone out, indeed, but with fear betwixt them, and a kind of horror at her boldness, who had spoken what he vaguely1 hinted at, but dared not speak.
But Hester Prynne, with a mind of native courage and activity, and for so long a period not merely estranged2, but outlawed4, from society, had habituated herself to such latitude5 of speculation6 as was altogether foreign to the clergyman. She had wandered, without rule or guidance, in a moral wilderness7; as vast, as intricate and shadowy, as the untamed forest, amid the gloom of which they were now holding a colloquy8 that was to decide their fate. Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were, in desert places, where she roamed as freely as the wild Indian in his woods. For years past she had looked from this estranged point of view at human institutions, and whatever priests or legislators had established; criticising all with hardly more reverence9 than the Indian would feel for the clerical band, the judicial10 robe, the pillory11, the gallows12, the fireside, or the church. The tendency of her fate and fortunes had been to set her free. The scarlet13 letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude14! These had been her teachers- stern and wild ones- and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.
The minister, on the other hand, had never gone through an experience calculated to lead him beyond the scope of generally received laws; although, in a single instance, he had so fearfully transgressed15 one of the most sacred of them. But this had been a sin of passion, not of principle, nor even purpose. Since that wretched epoch16, he had watched, with morbid17 zeal18 and minuteness, not his acts- for those it was easy to arrange- but each breath of emotion, and his every thought. At the head of the social system, as the clergyman of that day stood, he was only the more trammelled by its regulations, its principles, and even its prejudices. As a priest, the framework of his order inevitably19 hemmed20 him in. As a man who had once sinned, but who kept his conscience all alive and painfully sensitive by the fretting21 of an unhealed wound, he might have been supposed safer within the line of virtue22 than if he had never sinned at all.
Thus, we seem to see that, as regarded Hester Prynne, the whole seven years of outlaw3 and ignominy had been little other than a preparation for this very hour. But Arthur Dimmesdale! Were such a man once more to fall, what plea could be urged in extenuation23 of his crime? None; unless it avail him somewhat, that he was broken down by long and exquisite24 suffering; that his mind was darkened and confused by the very remorse25 which harrowed it; that, between fleeing as an avowed26 criminal, and remaining as a hypocrite, conscience might find it hard to strike the balance; that it was human to avoid the peril27 of death and infamy28, and the inscrutable machinations of an enemy; that, finally, to this poor pilgrim, on his dreary29 and desert path, faint, sick, miserable30, there appeared a glimpse of human affection and sympathy, a new life, and a true one, in exchange for the heavy doom31 which he was now expiating32. And be the stern and sad truth spoken, that the breach33 which guilt34 has once made into the human soul is never, in this mortal state, repaired. It may be watched and guarded; so that the enemy shall not force his way again into the citadel35, and might even, in his subsequent assaults, select some other avenue, in preference to that where he had formerly36 succeeded. But there is still the ruined wall, and, near it, the stealthy tread of the foe37 that would win over again his unforgotten triumph.
The struggle, if there were one, need not be described. Let it suffice, that the clergyman resolved to flee, and not alone.
"If, in all these past seven years," thought he, "I could recall one instant of peace or hope, I would yet endure, for the sake of that earnest of Heaven's mercy. But now- since I am irrevocably doomed-wherefore should I not snatch the solace38 allowed to the condemned39 culprit before his execution? Or, if this be the path to a better life, as Hester would persuade me, I surely give up no fairer prospect40 by pursuing it! Neither can I any longer live without her companionship; so powerful is she to sustain- so tender to soothe41! O Thou to whom I dare not lift mine eyes, wilt42 Thou yet pardon me!"
"Thou wilt go!" said Hester calmly, as he met her glance.
The decision once made, a glow of strange enjoyment43 threw its flickering44 brightness over the trouble of his breast. It was the exhilarating effect- upon a prisoner just escaped from the dungeon45 of his own heart- of breathing the wild, free atmosphere of an unredeemed, unchristianised, lawless region. His spirit rose, as it were, with a bound, and attained46 a nearer prospect of the sky, than throughout all the misery47 which had kept him grovelling48 on the earth. Of a deeply religious temperament49, there was inevitably a tinge50 of the devotional in his mind.
"Do I feel joy again?" cried he, wondering at himself. "Methought the germ of it was dead in me! O Hester, thou art my better angel! I seem to have flung myself- sick, sin-stained, and sorrow-blackened-down upon these forest-leaves, and to have risen up all made anew, and with new powers to glorify51 Him that hath been merciful! This is already the better life! Why did we not find it sooner?"
"Let us not look back," answered Hester Prynne. "the past is gone! Wherefore should we linger upon it now? See! With this symbol, I undo52 it all, and make it as it had never been!"
So speaking, she undid53 the clasp that fastened the scarlet letter, and, taking it from her bosom54, threw it to a distance among the withered55 leaves. The mystic token alighted on the hither verge56 of the stream. With a hand's breadth farther flight it would have fallen into the water, and have given the little brook57 another woe58 to carry onward59, besides the unintelligible60 tale which it still kept murmuring about. But there lay the embroidered61 letter, glittering like a lost jewel, which some ill-fated wanderer might pick up, and thenceforth be haunted by strange phantoms63 of guilt, sinkings of the heart, and unaccountable misfortune.
The stigma64 gone, Hester heaved a long, deep sigh, in which the burden of shame and anguish65 departed from her spirit. Oh, exquisite relief! She had not known the weight, until she felt the freedom! By another impulse, she took off the formal cap that confined her hair; and down it fell upon her shoulders, dark and rich, with at once a shadow and a light in its abundance, and imparting the charm of softness to her features. There played around her mouth, and beamed out of her eyes, a radiant and tender smile, that seemed gushing66 from the very heart of womanhood. A crimson67 flush was glowing on her cheek, that had been long so pale. Her sex, her youth, and the whole richness of the beauty, came back from what men call the irrevocable past, and clustered themselves, with her maiden68 hope, and a happiness before unknown, within the magic circle of this hour. And, as if the gloom of the earth and sky had been but the effluence of these two mortal hearts, it vanished with their sorrow. All at once, as with a sudden smile of heaven, forth62 burst the sunshine, pouring a very flood into the obscure forest, gladdening each green leaf, transmuting69 the yellow fallen ones to gold, and gleaming adown the grey trunks of the solemn trees. The objects that had made a shadow hitherto, embodied70 the brightness now. The course of the little brook might be traced by its merry gleam afar into the wood's heart of mystery, which had become a mystery of joy.
Such was the sympathy of Nature- that wild, heathen Nature of the forest, never subjugated71 by human law, nor illumined by higher truth- with the bliss72 of these two spirits! Love, whether newly born, or aroused from a death-like slumber73, must always create a sunshine, filling the heart so full of radiance, that it overflows74 upon the outward world. Had the forest still kept its gloom, it would have been bright in Hester's eyes, and bright in Arthur Dimmesdale's!
Hester looked at him with the thrill of another joy.
"Thou must know Pearl!" said she. "Our little Pearl! Thou hast seen her- yes, I know it!- but thou wilt see her now with other eyes. She is a strange child! I hardly comprehend her! But thou wilt love her dearly, as I do, and wilt advise me how to deal with her."
"Dost thou think the child will be glad to know me?" asked the minister, somewhat uneasily. "I have long shrunk from children, because they often show a distrust- a backwardness to be familiar with me. I have even been afraid of little Pearl!"
"Ah, that was sad!" answered the mother. "But she will love thee dearly, and thou her. She is not far off. I will call her! Pearl! Pearl!"
"I see the child," observed the minister. "Yonder she is, standing75 in a streak76 of sunshine, a good way off, on the other side of the brook, So thou thinkest the child will love me?"
Hester smiled, and again called to Pearl, who was visible, at some distance, as the minister had described her, like a bright-apparelled vision, in a sunbeam, which fell down upon her through an arch of boughs77. The ray quivered to and fro, making her figure dim or distinct- now like a real child, now like a child's spirit- as the splendour went and came again. She heard her mother's voice, and approached slowly through the forest.
Pearl had not found the hour pass wearisomely, while her mother sat talking with the clergyman. The great black forest- stern as it showed itself to those who brought the guilt and troubles of the world into its bosom- became the playmate of the lonely infant, as well as it knew how. Sombre as it was, it put on the kindest of its moods to welcome her. It offered her the partridge-berries, the growth of the preceding autumn, but ripening78 only in the spring, and now red as drops of blood upon the withered leaves. These Pearl gathered, and was pleased with their wild flavour. The small denizens79 of the wilderness hardly took pains to move out of her path. A partridge, indeed, with a brood of ten behind her, ran forward threatingly, but soon repented80 of her fierceness, and clucked to her young ones not to be afraid. A pigeon, alone on a low branch, allowed Pearl to come beneath, and uttered a sound as much of greeting as alarm. A squirrel, from the lofty depths of his domestic tree, chattered81 either in anger or merriment- for a squirrel is such a choleric82 and humorous little personage, that it is hard to distinguish between his moods- so he chattered at the child, and flung down a nut upon her head. It was a last year's nut, and already gnawed83 by his sharp tooth. A fox, startled from his sleep by her light footstep on the leaves, looked inquisitively84 at Pearl, as doubting whether it were better to steal off, or renew his nap on the same spot. A wolf, it is said- but here the tale has surely lapsed85 into the improbable- came up, and smelt86 of Pearl's robe, and offered his savage87 head to be patted by her hand. The truth seems to be, however, that the mother-forest, and these wild things which it nourished, all recognised a kindred wildness in the human child.
And she was gentler here than in the grassy-margined streets of the settlement, or in her mother's cottage. The flowers appeared to know it; and one and another whispered as she passed, "Adorn88 thyself with me, thou beautiful child, adorn thyself with me!"- and, to please them, Pearl gathered the violets, and anemones89, and columbines, and some twigs90 of the freshest green, which the old trees held down before her eyes. With these she decorated her hair, and her young waist, and became a nymph-child, or an infant dryad, or whatever else was in closest sympathy with the antique wood. In such guise91 had Pearl adorned92 herself, when she heard her mother's voice, and came slowly back.
Slowly; for she saw the clergyman!
阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔凝视着海丝特的面孔，他的神情中确实闪烁着希望和欣喜，但其中也夹杂着畏缩，以及对她的胆识的一种惊惧，因为她说出了他隐约地暗示而没敢说出的话。
但是，海丝特·白兰天生具有勇敢和活跃的气质，加之这多年来不仅被人视如陌窖，而且为社会所摒弃，所以就形成了那样一种思考问题的高度，对牧师来说简直难以企及。她一直漫无目标地在道德的荒野中徘徊；那荒野同这荒林一样广漠、一样错综、一样阴森，而他俩如今正在这幽暗的林中进行决定他们命运的会谈。她的智慧和心灵在这里适得其所，她在荒漠之处自由漫游，正如野蛮的印第安人以林为家。在过去这些年中，她以陌生人的目光看待人类的风俗制度，以及由教士和立法者所建立的一切；她几乎和印第安人一样，以不屑的态度批评牧师的丝带、法官的黑袍、颈手枷、绞刑架、家庭或教会。她的命运发展的趋向始终是放纵她自由的。红字则是她进入其他妇女不敢涉足的禁区的通行证。耻辱，绝望，孤寂！——这些就是她的教师，而且是一些严格粗野的教师，他们既使她坚强，也教会她出岔于。
而在牧师那一方面，却从来没有过一种经历会引导他跨越雷池一步；虽说只有一例，他曾经那么可怕地冒犯了其中最为神圣的戒条。但那只是情感冲动造成的罪过，并非原则上的对抗，甚至不是故意而为。从那倒霉的时日起，他一直以病态的热情，小心翼翼地监视着自己的，不是他的行为——因为这很容易调整——，而是他的每一丝情绪和每一个念头。当年，牧师们是身居社会首位的，因此他只能更受戒律、原则甚至偏见的束缚。身为牧师，他的等级观必然也会限制他。作为一个一度犯罪、但又因未愈的伤口的不断刺激而良心未泯并备受折磨的人，他或许会认为比起他从未有过罪孽反倒在道德上更加保险。
这样，我们似乎就明白了：就海丝特·白兰而论，这备受摒弃和耻辱的整整七年的时间，只不过是为此时此刻做好准备而已。但阿瑟·丁梅斯代尔可不同！倘使象他这样一个人再次堕落的话，还能为减轻罪行作何辩白呢？没有了；除非可以勉强说什么：他被长期的剧烈痛苦压垮了；他的头脑已经被自责折磨得阴暗和混乱了；他要么承认是一名罪犯而逃走，要么继续充当一名伪君子而留下，但他的良心已难以从中取得平衡；为了避免死亡和耻辱的危险，以及一个敌人的莫测的诡计，出走原是合乎情理的；最后，还可以说，这个可怜的朝圣者，在他凄凉的旅途中，倍感昏迷、病痛和悲惨的折磨，却瞥见一道充满仁爱和同情的闪光，其中有崭新和真实的生活，可以取代他目前正在赎罪的沉重的命运。如果把那严酷而伤感的真理说出来，那就是：罪孽一旦在人的灵魂中造成一个蹿隙，今世便万难弥合。当然，你尽可以用心守望，以防敌人再度闯进禁地，甚至还可以预防他在随后的袭击中选择另一条比他原来成功的突破曰更好的途径。但是，那断壁颓垣仍然存在，敌人就在附近暗中移动，试图再次获得难忘的胜利。
如果这算是一场激争，那是无须描述的。只消一句话就足够了：牧师决心出走，但不是一个人。
“在这过去的七个年头中，”他想着，“如果我还能回忆起有过瞬间的宁静或希望，我也会看在上天的仁慈的诚意上忍受下去的。可是如今，我既已命中注定无法挽回，又何必不去捕捉已经定罪的犯人临刑前所能得到的那点慰藉呢？或者说，象海丝特规劝我的那样，如果这是一条通往美好生活的途径，我踏上它肯定不是舍弃什么光明的前程！何况，没有她的陪伴，我再也活不下去了；她对我的支撑是那样有力，她对我的抚慰是那么温柔！啊，我不敢抬眼仰望的天神啊，你还肯再饶恕我吧！”“你就走吧！”海丝特说，当他迎到她的目光时，她是那么安详。
这决定一旦做出之后，一般欣喜异常的色彩便将其跳动的光辉投射到他胸中的烦恼之上。这种振奋人心的决定对于一个刚刚逃脱自己心灵禁锢的囚犯来说，有如踏上一片未受基督教化的、尚无法律管理的荒土，让他呼吸到那旷野的自由空气。他的精神就此一下升腾起来，比起被悲惨心境压得匍匐在地时，更近地看到了天空的景色。他是一个深具宗教气质的人，因此他的情绪上便必然会染上虔敬的色调。
“我重新尝到喜悦了吗？”他对自己诧异地叫道。“我还以为喜悦的胚胎已经在我心中死掉了呢1嗅，海丝特，你可真是我的好天使呢！我似乎已经把我这个疾病缠身、罪孽玷污和忧愁满腹的人抛到了这林中落叶之上，再站起来时已经脱胎换骨，周身充满新生的力量来为仁慈的上帝增光！如今我这条生命已经好得多了！我们怎么没有早点想到这一步呢？”
“咱们不要回头看了，”海丝特·白兰回答说。“过去的已经一去不复返了！现在我们又何必去留恋呢？瞧！我取下这个标志，也就同时取下了与此相关的一切，就象从来没发生过这件事一样！”
她一边这样说着，一边解开别着红字的胸针，从胸前取下红字，远远地抛到枯叶之中。那神秘的标志落在离小溪不远的地方。只消再飞这几指宽的距离，红字就会落进水里，那样的话，小溪除去连续不断地喃喃诉说着的莫测的故事之外，又要载着另一段哀怨流淌了。但那个刺绣的红字落在岸边，象一颗遗失的珠宝似的闪闪发光，某个倒霉的流浪者可能会把它拣起来，从此便会被神秘的罪恶幽灵、沉沦的心灵和难言的不幸所萦绕了。
海丝特除掉那耻辱的标志之后，深深长叹一声，她的精神就此解脱了耻辱和苦闷的重荷，轻松得简直飘然欲仙了！她如今感到了自由，才明白那重荷的份量！随着另一次冲动，她摘下了那顶束发的正正经经的帽子；满头乌黑浓密的秀发立刻飘洒在肩头，厚实之中显出光影婆婆，为她的容貌乎添了柔和之美。她的嘴角和眼波中散发出温柔的嫣然笑意，似是涌自她女性的心头。长期以来十分苍白的面颊也泛起红潮。她的女性，她的青春，和她各方面的美，都从所谓的无可挽回的过去中恢复了，伴随而来的是她少女时期的希望和一种前所不知的幸福，都在此时此刻的魔圈中荟萃一堂。而且，那种天昏地暗似乎是这两个人心中流泄出来的，此时也随着他们忧伤的消逝而消散了。突然之间，天空似乎一下子绽出微笑，立时阳光四射，将灿烂的光芒洒向膝腕的树林，使每一片绿叶都兴高采烈，把所有枯黄的落时染成金黄，连肃穆的树木的灰色树干也闪出亮光。原先造成阴影的东西，如今也成了发光体。小溪的河道也愉快地粼粼闪光，溯源而上可以直抵树林的那神秘心脏。此时也已成为一种欢乐的神秘。
这就是大自然——从未被人类法律管制过的、也从未被更高的真理照射过的蛮荒的、异端的、森林中的大自然——对这两个人精神的祝福所表示的同情！无论是新诞生的、抑或是从昏死般沉睡中醒来的爱情，总要产生一种阳光，将内心充满，并洋溢而出，喷薄到外界。此时即使林中仍然幽暗如故，在海丝特的眼中，在阿瑟。丁梅斯代尔的眼中，也仍然会是光芒四射的！
海丝特望着他，心头又是一阵喜悦的震颤。
“你应该认识一下珠儿！”她说。“我们的小珠儿！你已经见过她了，——是啊，我知道的！——但现在你要用另一副目光来见她。她是一个怪孩子！我简直不理解她！但你会象我一样亲亲热热地爱她，还要给我出出主意怎么对付她。”
“你看孩子会高兴认识我吗？”牧师有点不安地问。“我躲着小孩子已有好长时间了，因为他们常常对我表示不信任——一种回避和我亲近的态度。我甚至一直害怕小珠儿！”
“唉，那可太让人难过了！”做母亲的回答说。“但是她会亲亲热热地爱你的，你也会一样爱她的。她就在不远的地方。我来叫叫她！珠儿！珠儿！”
“我看见孩子了，”牧师说。“她就在那边，站在一道阳光下，离这儿还有一段路，在小溪的对岸。你是说这孩子会爱我？”
海丝特莞尔一笑，又叫了一声珠儿，这时可以看见她了，就在一段距离之外，正如牧师所说，她站在透过树弯照到她身上的一道阳光之中，象是个被了一层灿烂衣装的幻影。那阳光来回抖动，使得她的身影忽明忽暗——一会儿象是个活生生的孩子，一会儿又象是孩子的精灵——随着阳光去面复返。她听到了她母亲的呼唤，慢慢穿过树林走了过来。
她母亲坐在那儿和牧师谈话的当儿，珠儿并不觉得时间过得无聊。那座阴森森的大树林——对那些把世间的罪孽和烦恼都装进胸扉的人们来说，虽然显得那么严厉，但却成了那孤独的幼儿的玩伴，而且懂得怎么陪着她玩。大森林尽管阴沉忧郁，却露出最亲切的心情来欢迎她。向她提供了红树浆果，那是去年秋天长出，今年春天才成熟的，此时红得象珠珠血滴，树在枯叶上。珠儿采集了这些浆果，很喜欢那种野果的滋味。那些野生的小动物，都不肯从她的小径上走开。一只身后随着十只雏鸟的雌鹧鸪，确曾冲上前来威吓她，但很快就后悔那么凶，还咯咯叫着她的孩子不必害怕。一只独栖在低校上的野鸽，在珠儿来到树下时没有飞开，只是发出一声既象问候又象惊讶的叫声。一只松鼠从它作巢的高树的密时中叽叽咕咕，不知是生气还是高兴——因为松鼠本是爱发怒又逗人爱的小家伙，它的脾气实在让人捉摸不定——它边向那孩子叽叽咕咕，还扔下一颖坚果在她的头上。那是一颗去年结下的坚果，已经被它的利齿咬啮过了。一只狐狸被她踏在落时上的轻轻的脚步声所惊醒，探头探脑地望着珠儿，似乎拿不定主意，是悄悄溜走，还是呆在原地继续它的瞌睡。据说——故事叙述到这里确实有些荒唐了——，还有一只狼走上前来，嗅了嗅珠儿的衣服，还把它那野兽的头仰起来让她拍拍。不过，实情大概是：那森林母亲及其养育的这些野兽，全都在这人类的孩子身上辨出了一种亲切的野味。
而她在这林中，也要比在居民区两边铺了草的街道上，或是她母亲的茅屋中，显得温和些。花朵象是明白这一点；在她经过时，就会有那么一两朵悄声低语：“用我来打扮打扮你自己吧，你这漂亮的孩子，用我来打扮打扮你自己吧！”——而为了让它们高兴，珠儿也就摘了几朵紫罗兰、银莲花和耧斗菜，以及一些从老树上垂到她眼前的翠绿的嫩枝。她用这些花枝编成花环，戴往头发上，缠在腰肢间，于是便成了一个小仙子，或是林中小仙女，或是同古老的树林最为亲密无间的什么精灵。珠儿把自己这样打扮好了，便听到她母亲的呼唤，慢慢地往回走去。
她走得很慢，因为她看到了牧师。
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