Chapter 22 Eighteen, a piece of sunshine

Arthur Dimmesdale gazed into Hester's face, and there was hope and joy in his expression, indeed, but mingled with fear, a horror at her boldness.She said everything he was vague and afraid to say. Hester Prynne was born with a brave and lively heart, but over the long years, she was not only alienated but also rejected by society, so that she formed a special way of thinking, a kind of Totally incompatible way of thinking for a priest.With no rules to follow, no guide to guide her, she wandered aimlessly in a wilderness of the spirit as vast, as intricate, and as eerie as this vast primeval forest, where they were now The meeting in the woods that will decide their fate.Her intellect and heart are in their proper place in this desert land.There she roamed about as freely as a savage Indian did in the woods.During the past few years she had viewed human customs, and all that priests and legislators had instituted, through the eyes of a hermit.She criticized the priest's sash, the judge's black robe, the pillory, the gallows, the family, the church, and so on.She felt as little reverence for these things as the Indians felt for them.Her fate and encounters make her free day by day.The scarlet letter was her passport, allowing her to enter areas that other women dare not set foot in.Shame, despair, loneliness!These were her teachers, stern and rough teachers, who had made her tough but also taught her to be more paranoid.

The priest, on the other hand, has never had an experience which has prompted him to take a step beyond the accepted law; though once and only once he has had a terrible violation of one of the most sacred laws, but it was emotion. The sins of impulse are not born out of the principle of resistance, nor are they done on purpose.From that unfortunate moment he had guarded himself with morbid zeal.It is not his own actions that he is the guardian of—for that is easily regulated—but his own strands of emotion and every thought.He stood at the forefront of the social system as a pastor, so he was bound by social precepts, principles and even prejudices.As a priest, the taste of his priesthood must bound him.As a man who has been a sinner, and as a man with unhealed wounds, lingering pains, stinging nerves, and a still conscience, he may think that he is now more virtuous than he was before he had never committed any sin. He should be more mature and reliable.

Thus we seem to see that seven whole years of spurned and disgraced life were, as far as Hester Prynne was concerned, a preparation for this moment.But what about Arthur Dimmesdale?If such a man were to fall again, what excuse could be found for lessening his guilt?No, there was nothing to be done, save to say something: his body was wrecked by long-suffering excruciating pain; Confessing himself as a criminal and fleeing, or remaining as a hypocrite, is torn between two; or what to say, to escape the scourge of death and disgrace, and from the unpredictable plots of enemies Artifice is human nature; lastly, what can be said, of the poor pilgrim, who, in spite of his feebleness, sickness, and grief, caught a glimpse of a path full of love and sympathy A glimmer of hope, a glimmer of hope in a new, real life that would replace the heavy fate he was currently atoning for.Again, let us speak the harsh and sad truth: Once sin has made a breach in the soul, it cannot be closed in the world.Of course, you can monitor carefully and strictly defend as much as possible so that the enemy cannot break into the restricted area again. Even in the subsequent attack, the enemy has to choose another way instead of the route he used to successfully invade.But the ruins remained, and the enemy stalked nearby, trying to recapture the victory he had so longed for.

If there had been such a struggle, there was no need to describe it in detail, but one sentence would suffice: the priest was determined to flee, and not alone. "If, during the past seven years," he said to himself, "I could recall a single moment of peace or hope, I would have endured in the goodness of Providence. But now Why, since I am doomed beyond redemption, should I not seize the consolation which the condemned convict finds before his execution? Or, as Hester advises me, if it is the way to a better life If the way, I follow it without deviating from brighter and brighter prospects. And I cannot live without her company; her stamina is so great, and her soothing is so tender Oh! Lord! I dare not look up at you, can you forgive me?"

"Go away!" urged Hester.When he met her gaze, she was so peaceful. At this resolution, a strange, joyful light of fire threw its glittering splendor upon his troubled breast.For a prisoner who has just escaped the prison of his own mind, the exhilarating effect of this decision is like breathing the wilderness in an untrodden, unChristianized, and unlawful land. free air.His spirits leaped to his feet, lifted, and the view of the sky seemed nearer to him than when he had been prostrate in misery.He was a deeply religious man, and his moods were inevitably tinged with piety. "Am I feeling joy again?" he exclaimed, wondering to himself. "I thought the germ of joy had died in me! Oh, Hester, you are my good angel! I seem to have thrown my old self--a much weaker and sin-stained and melancholy old self- Amidst the dead leaves of the forest, a new me rises up again, with new strength to glorify the good God! What a better life! Why didn't we discover it sooner? "

"Let us not look back," replied Hester, "the past is past! Why should we dwell on it? Look! I will destroy the past, with this mark, as if it had never happened." !" As she spoke, she unfastened the brooch on which the scarlet letter was fastened, took the letter from her breast, and threw it into the pile of dead leaves, where the mysterious symbol flew down on the bank of the brook.Only a hand away, the scarlet letter will fall into the water; if so, besides babbling to tell the unreasonable story, the brook will flow forward with another lament.But the embroidered scarlet letter lay there, gleaming like a lost jewel, perhaps picked up by some hapless tramp, who has since been haunted by strange ghosts of guilt, worries, and nameless Haunted by misfortune.

After throwing off the mark of shame, Hester breathed a deep sigh of relief, and her spirit was freed from the weight of shame and anguish.Ah, the extreme ease!Before she felt free, she never knew how heavy the scarlet letter was!Then, she was impulsive again, and took off the custom-made hair hat, and the black and thick hair immediately fell on her shoulders, the green clouds disturbed, and the light and shadow complemented each other, adding a bit of gentleness to her face charming.A radiant and gentle smile seemed to spring from within a woman, playing on her lips and radiating out through her eyes.A blush burned on her long-pale cheeks.Her femininity, her youth, her grace were all back, back from that past which they called "gone and never to return."Along with it, there is also the longing of girlhood and the joy that has never been felt.Together they appear in a wondrous circulation in this very moment.The haze between heaven and earth seemed to be just smoke emanating from the hearts of these two mortals, dissipating with their sorrow.

In an instant, thousands of rays of light shot out from the sky, like the smiling face of the sky, pouring down a piece of sunshine into the dark forest, making every green leaf flourish, the withered and yellow fallen leaves turning golden, and even the gray and solemn tree trunks shining brightly.Everything that cast shadows now shone. The water in the brook shimmered and sang cheerfully, and flowed down into the mysterious heart of the wood, but now this mystery had also become a joyful mystery. This is nature's blessing and sympathy for the spirit of these two men.It was savage, heretical, primeval nature, a nature not subject to human laws, nor illuminated by noble truths.Love, whether newborn or awakened from a deadly slumber, must give birth to sunshine, filling the heart with light, overflowing to the world.If the forest is still dark as before, it is bright in Hester's eyes, and it is also bright in Arthur Dimmesdale's eyes!

Another thrill of joy passed through Hester's heart as she watched him. "You ought to know Pearl!" said she, "our little Pearl! You have seen her--yes, I remember you have seen her!" "Do you think the children would be glad to know me?" asked the pastor, a little uneasy. "I have been hiding from children for a long time because they often show me a kind of distrust--a kind of timidity and unwillingness to talk to me." familiarity. I'm even a little afraid of little Pearl!" "Oh, that is so sad!" said the mother; "but she will love you, and you will love her. She is near, and I will call her! Pearl! Pearl!"

"I see the child," said the preacher, "and she's over there, on the other side of the brook, in a ray of sunlight, some way from here. Do you think the child will love me?" Hester smiled, and called Pearl again.She can be seen now, not far from here.As the priest described her, she stood in a ray of sunlight that fell on her through the canopy of trees, like a phantom in a rich costume.The light beam was shaking back and forth, making her figure flicker on and off.For a while it is clearly a living child, and for a while it is like an elf, changing with the coming and going of the light beam.She heard her mother's call and came slowly through the forest.

Pearl did not feel the hours passing while her mother sat talking with the clergyman.The great black forest, stern and unforgiving to those who brought the sins and troubles of the world into its hinterlands, was to the lonely child a good playmate, and knew how to keep her company. play.In spite of its gloom and melancholy, the great forest greeted her with the kindest spirit.There are tiger thorn berries here, which grew last fall and only ripened this spring. The red fruit lined the dead leaves like drops of blood.Pearl gathered these berries, she loved the game of the fruit.The little animals in the wild were unwilling to move to make room for her.A partridge, with ten chicks at her head, did spring upon her fiercely, but soon repented of her violence, and clucked to beckon her chicks not to be afraid.A wild pigeon, perched all alone on a low-hanging branch, let Pearl come beneath it, and uttered a cry, more or less welcome, more or less alarm.A little squirrel chirped and chirped for a while from the tangle of tall treetops where it made its nest. I don't know whether it was praise or joy, because squirrels are such a kind of tantrum-loving and funny little guy, which makes people very happy. It's hard to understand its mood.Thus it cooed to Pearl, and dropped a nut on her head.It is an old nut that has been bitten by its sharp teeth.A fox, startled from sleep by her light footsteps on the leaves, looked at Pearl suspiciously, as if he could not make up his mind whether to slip away quietly, or to stay where he was and go on sleeping.It is said--and the story goes a little far at this point--that a wolf also came up, sniffed Pearl's dress, and threw up his fierce head to beg her to pat him. But the truth is probably this: the forest mother and the wild things she nourished and reared all recognized in this human child the same wildness that was hereditary. Pearl was gentler here than in the grass-lined streets of the settlement, or in her mother's little cottage.The flowers seemed to understand this, so as she walked by, one or two whispered to her, "Adorn you with me, pretty girl! Dress you with me!" in order to please them Pearl picked some violets, anemones, and columbine, and some young twigs that hung down to her eyes from the old trees.She weaves these flowers and branches into a garland, puts it on her head, wraps it around her waist, and suddenly becomes a nymph, a nymph, or some kind of fairy who has something to do with this ancient forest.Pearl was arranging herself in this way when she heard her mother's cry, and walked slowly back. She walked very slowly because she saw the priest!