红字-the scarlet letter(英文版)-第20章

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is　presentiments　to　noother　cause。　He　took　himself　to　task　for　his　bad　sympathies　inreference　to　Roger　Chillingworth；　disregarded　the　lesson　that　heshould　have　drawn　from　them；　and　did　his　best　to　root　them　out。　Unableto　acplish　this；　he　nevertheless；　as　a　matter　of　principle；continued　his　habits　of　social　familiarity　with　the　old　man；　andthus　gave　him　constant　opportunities　for　perfecting　the　purpose　towhich…　poor；　forlorn　creature　that　he　was；　and　more　wretched　thanhis　victim…　the　avenger　had　devoted　himself。　　While　thus　suffering　under　bodily　disease；　and　gnawed　and　torturedby　some　black　trouble　of　the　soul；　and　given　over　to　themachinations　of　his　deadliest　enemy；　the　Reverend　Mr。　Dimmesdale　hadachieved　a　brilliant　popularity　in　his　sacred　office。　He　won　it；indeed；　in　great　part；　by　his　sorrows。　His　intellectual　gifts；　hismoral　perceptions；　his　power　of　experiencing　and　municatingemotion；　were　kept　in　a　state　of　preternatural　activity　by　the　prickand　anguish　of　his　daily　life。　His　fame；　though　still　on　its　upwardslope；　already　overshadowed　the　soberer　reputations　of　hisfellow…clergymen；　eminent　as　several　of　them　were。　There　were　scholarsamong　them；　who　had　spent　more　years　in　acquiring　abstruse　lore；connected　with　the　divine　profession；　than　Mr。　Dimmesdale　had　lived；and　who　might　well；　therefore；　be　more　profoundly　versed　in　such　solidand　valuable　attainments　than　their　youthful　brother。　There　weremen；　too；　of　a　sturdier　texture　of　mind　than　his；　and　endowed　with　afar　greater　share　of　shrewd；　hard；　iron；　or　granite　understanding；which；　duly　mingled　with　a　fair　proportion　of　doctrinal　ingredient；constitutes　a　highly　respectable；　efficacious；　and　unamiable　varietyof　the　clerical　species。　There　were　others；　again；　true　saintlyfathers；　whose　faculties　had　been　elaborated　by　weary　toil　among　theirbooks；　and　by　patient　thought；　and　etherealised；　moreover；　byspiritual　munications　with　the　better　world；　into　which　theirpurity　of　life　had　almost　introduced　these　holy　personages；　with　theirgarments　of　mortality　still　clinging　to　them。　All　that　they　lacked　wasthe　gift　that　descended　upon　the　chosen　disciples　at　Pentecost；　intongues　of　flame；　symbolising；　it　would　seem；　not　the　power　ofspeech　in　foreign　and　unknown　languages；　but　that　of　addressing　thewhole　human　brotherhood　in　the　heart's　native　language。　These　fathers；otherwise　so　apostolic；　lacked　Heaven's　last　and　rarest　attestation　oftheir　office；　the　Tongue　of　Flame。　They　would　have　vainly　sought…had　they　ever　dreamed　of　seeking…　to　express　the　highest　truthsthrough　the　humblest　medium　of　familiar　words　and　images。　Their　voicescame　down；　afar　and　indistinctly；　from　the　upper　heights　where　theyhabitually　dwelt。　　Not　improbably；　it　was　to　this　latter　class　of　men　that　Mr。Dimmesdale；　by　many　of　his　traits　of　character；　naturally　belonged。　Tothe　high　mountain…peaks　of　faith　and　sanctity　he　would　have　climbed；had　not　the　tendency　been　thwarted　by　the　burden；　whatever　it　mightbe；　of　crime　or　anguish；　beneath　which　it　was　his　doom　to　totter。　Itkept　him　down；　on　a　level　with　the　lowest；　him；　the　man　of　etherealattributes；　whose　voice　the　angels　might　else　have　listened　to　andanswered！　But　this　very　burden　it　was；　that　gave　him　sympathies　sointimate　with　the　sinful　brotherhood　of　mankind；　so　that　his　heartvibrated　in　unison　with　theirs；　and　received　their　pain　into　itself；and　sent　its　own　throb　of　pain　through　a　thousand　other　hearts；　ingushes　of　sad；　persuasive　eloquence。　Oftenest　persuasive；　butsometimes　terrible！　The　people　knew　not　the　power　that　moved　themthus。　They　deemed　the　young　clergyman　a　miracle　of　holiness。　Theyfancied　him　the　mouthpiece　of　Heaven's　messages　of　wisdom；　and　rebuke；and　love。　In　their　eyes；　the　very　ground　on　which　he　trod　wassanctified。　The　virgins　of　his　church　grew　pale　around　him；　victims　ofa　passion　so　imbued　with　religious　sentiment　that　they　imagined　itto　be　all　religion；　and　brought　it　openly；　in　their　white　bosoms；　astheir　most　acceptable　sacrifice　before　the　altar。　The　aged　membersof　his　flock；　beholding　Mr。　Dimmesdale's　frame　so　feeble；　while　theywere　themselves　so　rugged　in　their　infirmity；　believed　that　he　wouldgo　heavenward　before　them；　and　enjoined　it　upon　their　children；　thattheir　old　bones　should　be　buried　close　to　their　young　pastor's　holygrave。　And；　all　this　time；　perchance；　when　poor　Mr。　Dimmesdale　wasthinking　of　his　grave；　he　questioned　with　himself　whether　the　grasswould　ever　grow　on　it；　because　an　accursed　thing　must　there　be　buried！　　It　is　inconceivable；　the　agony　with　which　this　public　venerationtortured　him！　It　was　his　genuine　impulse　to　adore　the　truth；　and　toreckon　all　things　shadow…like；　and　utterly　devoid　of　weight　orvalue；　that　had　not　its　divine　essence　as　the　life　within　theirlife。　Then；　what　was　he？…　a　substance？…　or　the　dimmest　of　all　shadows？He　longed　to　speak　out；　from　his　own　pulpit；　at　the　full　height　of　hisvoice；　and　tell　the　people　what　he　was。　〃I；　whom　you　behold　in　theseblack　garments　of　the　priesthood…　I；　who　ascend　the　sacred　desk；　andturn　my　pale　face　heavenward；　taking　upon　myself　to　hold　munion；　inyour　behalf；　with　the　Most　High　Omniscience…　I；　in　whose　daily　lifeyou　discern　the　sanctity　of　Enoch…　I；　whose　footsteps；　as　you　suppose；leave　a　gleam　along　my　earthly　track；　whereby　the　pilgrims　thatshall　e　after　me　may　be　guided　to　the　regions　of　the　blest…　I；who　have　laid　the　hand　of　baptism　upon　your　children…　I；　who　havebreathed　the　parting　prayer　over　your　dying　friends；　to　whom　theAmen　sounded　faintly　from　a　world　which　they　had　quitted…　I；　yourpastor；　whom　you　so　reverence　and　trust；　am　utterly　a　pollution　anda　lie！〃　　More　than　once；　Mr。　Dimmesdale　had　gone　into　the　pulpit；　with　apurpose　never　to　e　down　its　steps；　until　he　should　have　spokenwords　like　the　above。　More　than　once；　he　had　cleared　his　throat；　anddrawn　in　the　long；　deep；　and　tremulous　breath；　which；　when　sentforth　again；　would　e　burdened　with　the　black　secret　of　his　soul。More　than　once…　nay；　more　than　a　hundred　times…　he　had　actuallyspoken！　Spoken！　But　how？　He　had　told　his　hearers　that　he　wasaltogether　vile；　a　viler　panion　of　the　vilest；　the　worst　ofsinners；　an　abomination；　a　thing　of　unimaginable　iniquity；　and　thatthe　only　wonder　was；　that　they　did　not　see　his　wretched　bodyshrivelled　up　before　their　eyes；　by　the　burning　wrath　of　the　Almighty！Could　there　be　plainer　speech　than　this？　Would　not　the　people　start　upin　their　seats；　by　a　simultaneous　impulse；　and　tear　him　down　out　ofthe　pulpit　which　he　defiled？　Not　so；　indeed！　They　heard　it　all；　anddid　but　reverence　him　the　more。　They　little　guessed　what　deadlypurport　lurked　in　those　self…condemning　words。　〃The　godly　youth！〃　saidthey　among　themselves。　〃The　saint　on　earth！　Alas；　if　he　discern　suchsinfulness　in　his　own　white　soul；　what　horrid　spectacle　would　hebehold　in　thine　or　mine！〃　The　minister　well　knew…　subtle；　butremorseless　hypocrite　that　he　was！…　the　light　in　which　his　vagueconfession　would　be　viewed。　He　had　striven　to　put　a　cheat　upon　himselfby　making　the　avowal　of　a　guilty　conscience；　but　had　gained　only　oneother　sin；　and　a　self…acknowledged　shame；　without　the　momentary　reliefof　being　self…deceived。　He　had　spoken　the　very　truth；　andtransformed　it　into　the　veriest　falsehood。　And　yet；　by　theconstitution　of　his　nature；　he　loved　the　truth；　and　loathed　the　lie；as　few　men　ever　did。　Therefore；　above　all　things　else；　he　loathedhis　miserable　self！　　His　inward　trouble　drove　him　to　practices　more　in　accordance　withthe　old；　corrupted　faith　of　Rome；　than　with　the　better　light　of　theChurch　in　which　he　had　been　born　and　bred。　In　Mr。　Dimmesdale'ssecret　closet；　under　lock　and　key；　there　was　a　bloody　scourge。Oftentimes；　this　Protestant　and　Puritan　divine　had　plied　it　on　his　ownshoulders；　laughing　bitterly　at　himself　the　while；　and　smiting　so　muchthe　more　pitilessly　because　of　that　bitter　laugh。　It　was　his　custom；too；　as　it　has　been　that　of　many　other　pious　Puritans；　to　fast…　not；however；　like　them；　in　order　to　purify　the　body　and　render　it　thefitter　medium　of　celestial　illumination；　but　rigorously；　and　until　hisknees　trembled　beneath　him；　as　an　act　of　penance。　He　kept　vigils；likewise；　night　after　night；　sometimes　in　utter　darkness；　sometimeswith　a　glimmering　lamp；　and　sometimes；　viewing　his　own　face　in　alooking…glass；　by　the　most　powerful　light　which　he　could　throw　uponit。　He　thus　typified　the　constant　introspection　wherewith　he　tortured；but　could　not　purify；　himself。　In　these　lengthened　vigils；　his　brainoften　reeled；　and　visions　seemed　to　flit　before　him；　perhaps　seendoubtfully；　and　by　a　faint　light　of　their　own；　in　the　remote　dimnessof　the　chamber；　or　more　vividly；　and　close　beside　him；　within　thelooking…glass。　Now　it　was　a　herd　of　diabolic　shapes；　that　grinnedand　mocked　at　the　pale　minister；　and　beckoned　him　away　with　them；now　a　group　of　shining　angels；　who　flew　upward　heavily；　assorrow…laden；　but　grew　more　ethereal　as　they　rose。　Now　came　the　deadfriends　of　his　youth；　and　his　white…bearded　father；　with　asaint…like　frown；　and　his　mother；　turning　her　face　away　as　shepassed　by。　Ghost　of　a　mother…　thinnest　fantasy　of　a　mother…　methinksshe　might　yet　have　thrown　a　pitying　glance　towards　her　son！　And　now；through　the　chamber　which　these　spectral　thoughts　had　made　so　ghastly；glided　Hester　Prynne；　leading　along　little　Pearl；　in　her　scarlet　garb；and　pointing　her　forefinger；　first　at　the　scarlet　letter　on　her　bosom；and　then　at　the　clergyman's　own　breast。　　None　of　these　visions　ever　quite　deluded　him。　At　any　moment；　by　aneffort　of　his　will；　he　could　discern　substances　through　their　mistylack　of　substance；　and　convince　himself　that　they　were　not　solid　intheir　nature；　like　yonder　table　of　carved　oak；　or　that　big；　square；leathern…bound　and　brazen…clasped　volume　of　divinity。　But；　for　allthat；　they　were；　in　one　sense；　the　truest　and　most　substantialthings　which　the　poor　minister　now　dealt　with。　It　is　the　unspeakablemisery　of　a　life　so　false　as　his；　that　it　steals　the　pith　andsubstance　out　of　whatever　realities　there　are　around　us；　and　whichwere　meant　by　Heaven　to　be　the　spirit's　joy　and　nutriment。　To　theuntrue　man；　the　whole　universe　is　false…　it　is　impalpable…　it　shrinksto　nothing　within　his　grasp。　And　he　himself；　in　so　far　as　he　showshimself　in　a　false　light；　bees　a　shadow；　or；　indeed；　ceases　toexist。　The　only　truth　that　continued　to　give　Mr。　Dimmesdale　a　realexistence　on　this　earth；　was　the　anguish　in　his　inmost　soul；　and　theundissembled　expression　of　it　in　his　aspect。　Had　he　once　found　powerto　smile；　and　wear　a　face　of　gaiety；　there　would　have　been　no　suchman！　　On　one　of　those　ugly　nights；　which　we　have　faintly　hinted　at；　butforborne　to　picture　forth；　the　minister　started　from　his　chair。　Anew　thought　had　struck　him。　There　might　be　a　moment's　peace　in　it。Attiring　himself　with　as　much　care　as　if　it　had　been　for　publicworship；　and　precisely　in　the　same　manner；　he　stole　softly　down　thestaircase；　undid　the　door；　and　issued　forth。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　XII。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　MINISTER'S　VIGIL。　　WALKING　in　the　shadow　of　a　dream；　as　it　were；　and　perhaps　actuallyunder　the　influence　of　a　species　of　somnambulism；　Mr　Dimmesdalereached　the　spot；　where；　now　so　long　since；　Hester　Prynne　had　livedthrough　her　first　hours　of　public　ignominy。　The　same　platform　orscaffold；　black　and　weather…stained　with　the　storm　or　sunshine　ofseven　long　years；　and　foot…worn；　too；　with　the　tread　of　manyculprits　who　had　since　ascended　it；　remained　standing　beneath　thebalcony　of　the　meeting…house。　The　minister　went　up　the　steps。　　It　was　an　obscure　night　of　early　May。　An　unvaried　pall　of　cloudmuffled　the　whole　expanse　of　sky　from　zenith　to　horizon。　If　the　samemultitude　which　had　stood　as　eye…witnesses　while　Hester　Prynnesustained　her　punishment　could　now　have　been　summoned　forth；　theywould　have　discerned　no　face　above　the　platform；　nor　hardly　theoutline　of　a　human　shape；　in　the　dark　grey　of　the　midnight。　But　thetown　was　all　asleep。　There　was　no　peril　of　discovery。　The　ministermight　stand　there；　if　it　so　pleased　him；　until　morning　should　reddenin　the　east；　without　other　risk　than　that　the　dank　and　chill　night…airwould　creep　into　his　frame；　and　stiffen　his　joints　with　rheumatism；and　clog　his　throat　with　catarrh　and　cough；　thereby　defrauding　theexpectant　audience　of　to…morrow's　prayer　and　sermon。　No　eye　couldsee　him；　save　that　ever…wakeful　one　which　had　seen　him　in　hiscloset；　wielding　the　bloody　scourge。　Why；　then；　had　he　e　hither？Was　it　but　the　mockery　of　penitence？　A　mockery；　indeed；　but　in　whichhis　soul　trifled　with　itself！　A　mockery　at　which　angels　blushed　andwept；　while　fiends　rejoiced；　with　jeering　laughter！　He　had　been　drivenhither　by　the　impulse　of　that　Remorse　which　dogged　him　everywhere；　andwhose　own　sister　and　closely　linked　panion　was　that　Cowardice　whichinvariably　drew　him　back；　with　her　tremulous　gripe；　just　when　theother　impulse　had　hurried　him　to　the　verge　of　a　disclosure。　Poor；miserable　man！　what　right　had　infirmity　like　his　to　burden　itself　withcrime？　Crime　is　for　the　iron…nerved；　who　have　their　choice　either　toendure　it；　or；　if　it　press　too　hard；　to　exert　their　fierce　andsavage　strength　for　a　good　purpose；　and　fling　it　off　at　once！　Thisfeeble　and　most　sensitive　of　spirits　could　do　neither；　yet　continuallydid　one　thing　or　another；　which　intertwined；　in　the　sameinextricable　knot；　the　agony　of　heaven…defying　guilt　and　vainrepentance。　　And　thus；　while　standing　on　the　sca