/848 .A3TL3 OvS ■ %4 ■Si O ' f " 4 .^ %. > •- . . .^•^^ .•^'' c^^^ ■I '-J1 O • .' fl5' ■S>o kX^ 'P - '^ *^ - * \V 'P. C">, % -^c. "■' .^" o>' '^ '» , „ > . A^ •"OO^ .-0' s°\. ' AX"^' 3^ Ol> * % : % '^' : ■ ■■'■ • - ''^> '^^ - xO^. \^ S.0°<, ^o<^<. ", '^c • » M " v'' ^/»//V . > ' " * "-v. ■*bo^ * ■>'■ .^'^•' ■"O O'^ .^"^' N? %■ 'c 0' % >*' nO°<. t Z^^^:::-"^ cP^.^z*^\, y.^!X^^/^ S^WIT llTTT^t ^^TKi P))8\iMiR!aa -^By mn Catbrop^ A STUDY OF HAW- THORNE .... Houghton, Mifflin & Co. . Boston SPANISH VISTAS Harper & Brothers . . . New York WOULD YOU KILL HIM? .^ ^ A NOVEL ^ ^ Harper & Brothers . . . New York GOLD OF PLEAS- URE ^ J» A NOVEL J* JH J. B. Lippincott Qjmpany . Philadelphia the Scarlet tetter Ji Dramatic gompcsition « « « By « « « George Parsons Catbrop « lOalter Hamrosc!) « MDCCCXCVI THE TRANSATLANTIC PUBLISHEvIG COMPANY NEW YORK AND LONDON COPYRIGHT, 1896 BY George Parsons Lathrop ^ PERSONS REPRESENTED ARTHUR HESTER CHILLINGWORTH WILSON BELLINGHAM BRACKETT .... A SHIPMASTER PURITAN MEN AND WOMEN ; SOLDIERS; SAILORS; NEW PILGRIMS. ^ INTRODUCTORY NOTE When Mr. Walter Damrosch asked me to write a Dramatic Poem suited for the music of a Grand Opera, on the theme of Hawthorne's " Scarlet Letter," two important artistic re- quirements had to be taken into view : First, it was necessary to make the movement of the piece quick and eminently dra- matic. Secondly, the lines must be not only singable in rhythm and in succession of vowel sounds, but must have a quality that would promote or co-operate with a rich and impassioned musical expression. It is but fair to say that the dramatic construction was the result of collaboration by the composer and the author, and was largely suggested by Mr. Damrosch. Obviously the character of Little Pearl was impossible in opera, and she was therefore omitted. The great elemental story of Hester's and Arthur's love, sin, suffering, and partial expiation is what we wished to treat. This is presented v/ith the utmost directness and compression. Gaps are bridged, delays avoided. Inci- dents are changed, remodeled, or transposed at will, and new incidents and moods are introduced. No attempt has been made to reproduce or to follow exactly the great prose romance from which the story is drawn. I do not suppose, either, that I have adapted from Hawthorne's pages more than two dozen sentences, if so many, in the whole work. My text is an original Dramatic Poem on the old theme. It stands, therefore, as a new work, which may be read for itself. But it is also designed, in every line, for music and song. I used an entire freedom in the form and the var3nng measures employed. To write verse suited to musical con- ceptions, and to interpretation by the orchestra and voice, however, is almost a distinctive branch of the poetic art. The poem must have abrupt changes of time and character, not always conforming to the traditions of verse meant only for reading, but obeying a large artistic law. In this poem of " The Scarlet Letter " a greater variety of feet, measures, and stanzas is brought into play. The form was molded by the sentiment, passion, or situation at each moment. Besides the meter and rhythm of each line, regarded sepa- rately, there is often a complicated word melody, or a scheme of emphases and pauses, running through several lines. These three, as a simple instance, while having each its own " time," belong to one continuous rhythm, and must be taken together to complete it : " For thee 1 would rule By thy shattered heart And ti'uth forsworn." Such " over -rhythms," as they might be called, correspond frequently to continuing strains in the music. It will be seen, then, that rhyme is in many places not essential. ! Although 1 have used it freely, I drop it the instant it might interfere with finer etfects. In other places, where there may be an appearance of partial rhyme, rhyme has not been sought for, but only that kinship of vowel-sounds called assonance. It may be well to add that certain faltering effects, or irregu- larities, are intentional, where regularity or smooth and round- ed verse forms would have failed to convey the mood or emotion needing to be expressed. George Parsons Lathrop. Cbe Scarlet Men ACT J. The Afar ket-P lace, Boston, with Prison at L., a rosebush in bloom growing by the door. Attack, a Church or Meet- ing-House. At P., the Town Mall, and near it the Pillory, P. C. Openings on either side of the Meeti7ig- House, giving a view of Boston Harbor. Puritan men and women, entering through these streets and at sides, assemble in excitemejit. Master Brackett, the failer, with a company of Soldiers, stands near the Prison door. CHORUS OF PURITAN MEN AND WOMEN. Chorus. How boldly shines the sun ! Yet outer darkness Enfolds yon wicked woman : while, within her, The wrong that she hath done Gleams bold as bale-fire 'gainst the light of day. O child of error fair, Caught in her beauty's own unhallowed snare ; — How boldly shines the sun To flare upon her shame ! But she, with soul that bums in angry flame, Stays close in her prison. There, there she lurks — the sinner, Hiding herself away. Quick! Bring her forth. 8 Bfacfcett. Who dares here command ? The Governor cometh : He only hath power to condemn. Wait justice, then, at his hand. \_Pushijig aside the people. Aside, there, stand ; — Aside, I say ! You bluster lilie the wind, For your will is the wind's rough way. Chorus. The woman hath foully sinned, Yet vengeance slumbers. To our folk she must expiate The shame she hath bro't on them. [ They surge toward the jail as if to attack it. Brackett. Be silent. Harken ! Chorus. Hester, the sinner ! Bring forth the offender. If she stood here before us. For pity or pardon To sue and implore us. No mercy would lighten her burden ; For judgment stern we would render. To crime give its guerdon : Her sin is abhorrent : — Death's doom we would award her, Since the law gives us warrant. To judgment 1 Condemn her ! [ They make another rush at the jail, but are beaten back by the soldiers. Brackett (to the soldiers). Guard the gate ! Enter Chillingworth, unobserved. Chill. What wrathful sound is this that rises loud.? 9 How fierce their anger 'gainst an erring woman ! O strange ! Tho' oft I've heard the hungry storm Roar for its prey ; — sharp winds of ocean moaning ; — More dreadful is this cry of human hearts That Icnow not mercy. Brackett. Behold, she comes ! Chorus. She comes ! [ The prison door opens. Crowd subsides into momentary hush. In the dark shadow of the corridor within the prison door a red glow is seen proceeding from a lanter>i hanging there. The soldiers form a lane through the crowd from the prison door to the pillory. Hush, hush ! Behold From the prison gleams A glowing flame. See you not ? See you not ? \Etiter from prison door a jailer, followed after a brief pause by HESTER. She stands for a moment on the doorstep, silent, dig- nified, yet vjoe-begone. Hester, accompa- nied by Brackett, crosses stage toward the Pillory. Some of the crowd point at the Scarlet Letter on her breast. Others turn away or shield their eyes as though horror-stricken and blinded by it. [Chillingworth, roused by their cries, moves to where he can see HESTER, and gazes at her, at first curiously. This creature — who ? Nay, what horror 1 'Tis Hester — My wife ! My wife ! Chorus. ChiU. Chorus. Jezebel ! Jezebel ! Daughter of hell ! See how serpent-like it twines, Yon letter, with its coiling lines ; As though it were clutching her breast, Of her soul in quest. Lo, she sports with her shame, And hath woven the letter With gaudy splendor of scarlet. The token that should be her fetter She turns to a mocking flame Of adornment. Down with the cursed harlot ! \ Punish her evil doing ; — Banish her shadow, that darkens Each true Puritan dwelling, Staining us all with dishonor ; Tempting God's wrath, in disaster. Far into hell-fire cast her. Down with the cursed harlot ! [Brackett and the Soldiers protect Hitter from crowd. /teaching Pillory, she as- cends it, and stands alone there, defiant. Chill. O blasting mockery ! O bleak despair ! All mercy withers now in fires of hate ; And from my heart, like a black smoke, rolls up Revenge ! l^Drum roll heard. [Enter, on the balcony of the Town Hall, Arthur Dimmesdale, with his senior colleague. Rev. John Wilson ; Gov. Bel- LINGHAM and other dignitaries . "Wilson. Hester Prynne, harken ! Thy husband absent, Far beyond sea — A child to thee here was born, Bringing disgrace and scorn. Heaven's wise decree Hath taken thy daughter away, Wafted on wings of death. If with her thou wouldst feel Heaven's holy breath — , No longer thy secret conceal, But thy fellow-oifender accuse. [Pause. Hast thou no word to say ? [Hester remains silent. Dost thou refuse .> [Hester is still silent. \To Hester, laying his hand on Arthur's shoulder. With my brother I've striven. My colleague pastor — This godly youth ; — That here in the face of Heaven He deal with you, touching the truth : That no longer you hide His name who wrought you this wrong And led to your grievous falling. Guilt-burdened, bow your pride Of sin : Hear conscience calling ! Bellingham (to ARTHUR). Yea, worthy sir, You are her pastor and preacher. Speak with her ; plead — Exhort her ; beseech her. (To Hester.) Tho' thou hast wandered. Far from the true path straying ; — The evil is in the deed. Not in the saying. Therefore talce heed : Confess ! Confess ! And the powers of heaven may bless Your late relenting. (To Arthur.) But you, O gentle brother, Alone can prove If she have grace for repenting ; This hapless mother, — Lost wife beguiled By alien love, — Whom fate holds far from her hus- band, And death despoils of her child. Chorus. Yea, worthy one, deal with this woman's soul. Arthur. Thou hearest them, Hester Prynne, And, alas, thou seest The maze of grief wherein I walk, the least Of those who dare sinners upbraid. Thy welfare was in my keeping ; And so thy sin must be mine. Fully thou hadst faith in thy guide: All the more, therefore. Imploring — yea, weeping — My prayer must ascend for pardon. Why, then, dost thou make no sign.' Nay, think ; if thy lips thou harden. Then I, — for thy poor soul's sake That I so care for. And even death would dare for— Thy burden of silence upon me take. 13 Qiorus. O wise and child -like, Simple and pure ; — With words of an angel he speaks ! Arthur (to HESTER). Not so ; but of one who seeks To save thee from dole. If peace to thee it would give, And thy spirit make whole. Or hope of salvation insure,— Tell his name who with thee now suffers. Though hiding his guilty heart. High or low, spare him not from the ban. Be not too tender. Nor pity render To him who, so, may be tempted To play the dissembler's part. Remember, he is not exempted From the doom that shadows thee. Think, ere thou repliest ; For if the truth thou deniest, O Hester, Hester ! — His soul with thine condemned may be. [Arthur sinks back, exhausted, with hand over heart. Bellingham and Wilson, anxious, support him. Chorus. Look, look ! He reels And trembles. Too sharp the stress Of grief that he feels For the wanton's woe. Though fallen low. Base woman, thou shouldst be proud Of the wretchedness His pity deigns to bless. Answer him, aloud. Arthur (rousing himself to fresh effort). Ay. Tell them who tempted thee. Hester (gently). From me the world shall never know his name. Wilson. Confession and repentance may avail To take the scarlet letter off thy breast. Hester (looking at ARTHUR). It is too deeply branded. Ye cannot take it off ! Arthur. Speak out the name : Chorus. Speak, speak ! Chill, (from crowd). Ay, woman ; speak, And give thy child a father ! Hester (startled and agitated). Ha ; that voice- No, no ; thrice no, to thee ! My child hath found A heavenly father. Ye shall never know Its earthly one. ENSEA\BLE. ARTHUR, CHILLINGWORTH, BELLINGHAM, WILSON, HESTER, CHORUS. Arthur. O marvel ! She will not speak. O wondrous kindness of a woman's heart 1 Reproach to my soul. And agony deep ! For while I keep My secret apart, She, alas, undefended. This ODen scorn IS Alone must endure. Maddening silence, Torture accurst, That bums tlie soul Like lips athirst Where hell-fires roll : Ah, would the torture were ended ! Yet, ah, though humbly I here were to kneel. My guilt to unfold, — Fair fame and falsehood spuming — Too late for her weal The truth would be told : For the flowering daNvn Of her womanhood pure Is lost in the hot noon's burning. Chill. Then, if she will not speak, Hell close her lips, but open her heart to me ! He who has betrayed My sacred trust. To me shall atone. Ay ; vengeance is just, And in vain all concealing. The traitor unknov/n At my feet shall be laid. Himself to me revealing. But thou, who hast broken Thy vow in disgrace, — May the govemor spare thee ! For thee I would rule By thy shattered heart And truth forswom. Till 1 ensnare thee. And make thee moum Thine evil part, i6 And his, poor fool, — With double woe contending. Cbortis. She will not speak : O devil-bound spirit ! What ! here among us Shall we then cherish Satan's own seed ? Nay, from the land let her perish ! Ay ; give her death ! Worshipful governor, Dally not long With her stubborn wrong, Who shows no repentance ; But swift unto death Give thou her sentence ! To death ! Harken, all harken ! What may he declare, — Our ruler undaunted ? The doom in his face By compassion is haunted : Would he grant her a grace. And will he so dare ? Nay, then, we demand That the woman, banned By law, shall have death, — The wage of her dark offending ! Wilson. She will not speak : 'Tis death within her soul that makes her dumb. Yet not in vain May pity seek To wake again The soul from trance. Its slumber imbuing 17 With eager breath. Let mercy be ours, — Her life renewing. O powers of heaven, Give judgment wise To thy servants here, — That we to this woman Your will may truly make known ! Let your light on us rise. And your glory appear In the words of the just ; — Or be it with death or life she atone. Hester. Maddening silence, Torture accurst, That burns the soul Like lips athirst Where hell-fires roll ! Almighty Father, End thou this woe 1 Whatever doom to me shall come, Spare not my sin ; But lay me low, Despised, accurst ; And save him, first, — That he may win The boon of thy pardon descending ! To guard his honor He, too, must be dumb ; But alas for the grief In his bosom pent as a prison ! May mercy, like rain On the withering leaf. His spirit renew. Till his life upspring, As a flower when dawn has arisen. i8 BeUingham. Thq' we slay her, still lives the father We vainly have sought. Young, fair, of her husband forsaken, — So was her honor shaken, Her ruin wrought. Defiant, unbending She will not speak ? Yet loth am 1 to array, The law's last power to say. Her life shall now have ending. I dare not condemn her ! For may it not be That slow, sad time And penance profound Her heart will subdue ? — Till the truth of her prime She seek to renew ? Hear, then ! I decree Not death. She is free {End of Ensemble.) Chofos. She is free ! Bellinhg:am. But henceforth apart From other folk she must tarry ; And there on her heart. Her life long, carry Yon Scarlet Letter ! [Hester clutches at her bosom convulsively, and bows her head. Cbofos (mocking her.) The scarlet woman And Scarlet Letter ! What rehibution better ! Ha, ha ! Ha, ha ! All her life hereafter Round her shall ring scorn and laughter. 19 BcIIingham (to WILSON). Now, worthy minister, For prayer and sermon ! Pour on the multitude The dew of Hermon — Thy balmy eloquence ; — That in union we dwell to- gether. [ To the crowd. Into the church, Good people, repair. [Wilson and the others enter the Meeting-House. As Arthur passes the Pillory his glance meets Hester's. He turns away with bowed head, his hand clutching his breast, and hurriedly enters the Meeting-House. Hester r^/wojnj- standing on the Pillory, and Chilltngworth lingers near her. Hester. My heart is broken. shame and sorrow ! How shall I face the morrow, — Wearing this tolcen } \^Sinks down, fainting. Chill, (rushing up Pillory steps). What has chanced here .' She must not die. Now, necromancy, Come to my aid ! \He mixes a potion in a leathern cup, which, with case bottles, he takes from his girdle ; and pours the dratight within her lips. Hester (partly recovering). To mine anguish leave me: — 1 am not afraid To perish alone ! Chill. Nay, look. It is I. Dost thou not know me ? Hester (starting up). Thou ! Thou ? — Roger Prynne, of the darkling brow ! Whence comest thou here ? Chill. Hush, Hester. Have no fear. Hester (trying to conceal the Scarlet Letter). But if thou know'st — ChilL The worst I know ! [A pause. Far over ocean straying Thee still — tho' long delaying — I came to find. But, lo, the unfaithful sea, Wrecking us, cast me ashore On a wild coast : Whence, wandering long, Through the silent forest, Thee still to find, 1 came; — Till here in the market-place I beheld thy face And thine open shame. Hester (in agony, growing faint again). Oh ! I can bear no more ! [Sie droops, and is supported by Chill. CHORAL. (Heard within the church.) Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; Praise Him, all aeatures here below ! Praise Him above, ye heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. 21 Chill, (proflfering cup anew). Drink this. Be strong. Hester. Will it bring me death ? Then gladly I drink it, To win release. [Chili., /iresses the cup upon her, and she drains it. ChilL (after she has drunk). No ; it gives thee life, And keeps thee living, That so thine infamy's mark Still may bum on thy bosom. Hester. O pitiless, thou ! and strange The charm thy potion has wrought ; As though all my thought Were artfully lulled, by thy soothing, To some dark spell. Chill. Yea ; — never to tell Thy secret, save to me. I ask not wherefore Nor how you fell. Since, from my birth deformed — The fault was mine To dream you loved me. {Choral ends.') Hester. Love 1 felt not, nor feigned. Chill. Yet thou hast wronged me. And the man still is living Who wronged us both. For him there can be no forgiving. Speak, Hester. Who is he } Hester. Nay, ask me not ! No power Can wring from me his name. 22 Oiill. As in books I've sought truth, Or, in alchemy, gold ; Him I'll hunt without ruth Till his secret I hold. Hester (shuddering). And then — you would kill ? Chill. Nay. Let the man live ! 1 obey heaven's will. Hester. If its mercy should give That in honor he bide .' ChilL Like a star let him shine ! Yet, wherever he hide. He is mine ! He is mine ! Hester. Thy deeds feign mercy, — but thy words are terror. Chill. Thou'st kept the mystery of thy para- mour; One thing I ask : that thou keep, also, mine. None know me in this land ; yet here's my home. Near thee — near him. But thou — betray me not ! Hester. Why dost thou lay upon me this com- mand ? Chill. Thy husband, to the world, is as one dead: Henceforth the name of " Chilling- worth " I wear. Thou, recognize me not by word or sign. Nor breathe our secret to the man thou knowest ; For if thou dost, his fame, his life will be *3 Hester. ChilL Mine to destroy. Hester, beware! be- ware! Hester. I will be secret, then, for thee — for him. Chill, (smiles grimly). Ay ; dwell in darkness, ever. How strange thy smile ! Oh ! art thou like the Black Man of the forest .' Hast thou enticed my soul into a bond Of ruin ? Thy soul, Hester ? No ; not thine ! (Choral begins again ivithin Church.) " God's voice breaks cedars ; yea, God breaks cedars of Lebanus." [Tumult and cries heard Tinthin church. The people troop forth in confusion, excited, with Bellingham, etc. Some of them carry Arthur in their arms. He has fainted. Air ! Help, help for our saintly pastor ! Arthur I Arthur ! How ghostly pale! \She runs to him swiftly; drops on her knees by him, anxious. The crowd angrily drive her away. Chorus. Hester. Chorus. ChilL Back, woman I Thy touch To his white soul is pollution. Tis he. O wonder of darkness, — 1 have found the man ! [Curtain.] 24 ACTIL Th< Forest. Hester's Hut, on one side. At back an open- ing among the trees, showing a forest path lost in obscurity. Sunlight alternates with deep shaahw. Indi- cations of a brook among the trees; the light sparkling oh it fitfully. Enter Hester /rem the Hut. Hester. Ripple of the brook, and rest of the sunshine Asleep under trees : — Restless am I as the water's murmur And wandering breeze. Sunlight flies from me ere I near it : — The brook's moan stays ! Grief never dies from me ; still I hear it, Through nights and days, Sob 'mid the woodland — the stream intoning My heart's own woe. Ah, sad brooklet, why still art moan- ing.? What dost thou know >. Is it a secret of this dark forest Told unto thee ; — Fearsomely wrong, that thou abhor- rest, And so must flee, Whispering ever the hapless tidings .' Couldst thou but cease ; — Hushing thy plaint, with my spirit's chidings ; — 1 should find peace I 25 [Hester sinks down upon a mossy bank by the brook, musing. A pause, the music continuing. Hester. Ah, still how gently, Blending, returning. With long endeavor- Fleeting as foam, Yet enduring forever — Sweet thoughts of home Awake in me yearning! And still my heart doth wander Far to its childhood blest In England yonder. O, innocence 1 flown like a bird from the storm -blown nest — Come back to me ! Dreams of the church-bell, and prayers that I knew — Come true, come true ! [She kneels. O Father in heaven ! if still To call thee Father I dare :— Grant me to do thy will ; My burden here to bear ! Unto my heart restore Sweet faith again, and rest, That humbly I once more May trust my soul to thy care. [After a pause there is heard in the distance a madrigal sung by new Pilgrims, from England, who gradually draw nearer. 26 MADRIGAL (of the new Pilgrims). Green are the meads Made new by showers, And hedgerows white With hawthorn flowers Win our hearts to delight. Who'd then at home be staying ? ', Up ; cast aside dull sorrow's weeds : 'Tis time we go a-Maying. To the daisy's breast i The larks, above us, Rain down heaven's song : — " Oh listen, and love us ! " And all the day long Among the daisies playing. We remember their strain, a dream of the blest ! For so we go a-Maying. Hester. Hark ! How those voices Make answer to my longing With song well known to me of yore, That now, returning, my spirit rejoices, And brings dear memories thronging Back from the days of old ! Enter a band of Pilgrims, -with women, children, etc, [Hester advances, hesitating, toward the group, as though to welcome them. Two Poi-itan Men (accompanying the Pilgrims as guides). Nay ; hold her aloof. A witch she is. And wanton, too ; — 27 An outcast soul. Beware ! [The Pilgrims draw away from HESTER t« dread and scorn, Hester, suddenly remem- bering, shrinks, clutching the Scarlet Letter. The others continue to move away. Hester (alone). O Ruler of heaven! Are these thy creatures ? Can it be, Thou hast given To men thy features — With hearts of clay And lips of flame, To blacken thine image And a soul to blast in Thy name ? Ah, then farewell To meek repentance : No longer I dwell In mercy's bound. Lord, give them sentence Of anguish profound ! — As 1, too, fling them my curse. Like a brand from the fire of my bosom. May it bum and wither Their wandering souls, Hither and thither ; — Cling to them, haunting. And humble their vaunting, To crumble in ashes Of endless death ! [Goes into her hut, with a gesture of despair. The scene darkens, as though with a passing Cloud. Enter Chillingworth and Governor Bellingham. Bcllingham. What cry was that ? 28 ChilL The wildwood, sighing. Bell. Nay, rather the wail Of human sorrow undying. Chill. Portents prevail In this favored land, Where only a barrier frail Between spirit and flesh may stand. Belike you heard Some evil bird, Or the shriek of a dark soul winging Its way to the nether world. BelL Most learned leech, Thou art so skilled In nature-speech, With marvel filled, — Tell me, canst thou yet reach The source of wasting woe That, with agony slow. Consumes the life Of Arthur, our friend ? Chill. A strife without end ! The ancient mystery Of body and mind. Hidden and strange the history ! BcIL Much do I fear, — So great his worth. So tender his spirit and pure, — Not long he will endure These bonds of earth, But, leaving us lonely, Take flight to heaven. Chill. To heaven ? No, no ! Of such disaster be sure 29 There need be no dread. I would not grieve thee, — With thoughts of woe. Arthur 1 guard, as the night guards a flower From the sun strong-rayed. If the blossom shall flourish Or fail and fade, — Not well may 1 know. Bell. Thou knowest him dear to us : Save him ; oh, save ! Hold him still near to us. Far from the grave. ChilL Deep within me 1 nourish Desire that he live. And ere he should perish, My soul to perdition I'd give. Bell. Thou lovest him well. [£xit Bellingham. Oiill. (alone). Ay, indeed — with the love of hell ! With such love here 1 await The holy man. Why does he Imger afar, so late ? To yonder lonely mission he fared Of Eliot, our Indian apostle. Ha ! can it be he has fancied or dared My grasp to elude ? In vain were the plan ! For his life is pursued By the silent footfall, still, of my hate. Round him is woven the web of his fate. 30 While I, ever near, As leech and friend, Have watched the quivering wounds of his soul. My skill alone has kept him whole ; That over him, so, I might gloat, to the end. No, no ; he shall not die! As music his cries of pain Ring sweet through my brain ; And I live by my joy in his agony. He shall have life, — Long life of restless days, And nights of endless woe ! Enter, from the forest, Arthur. Arthur (startled). What! is it thou — My kind physician } Chill. Yea, Arthur ; waiting ; For even now Methought thou wouldst return. Arthttf. Good friend, I feel Thy kindly will ; Yet sometimes, weary, the soul Must wander still, With only God for its goal. ChilL Yet in thy weakness 'Tis best thou lean on me, And yield with meekness ; For a grief at the spirit's core, Like smouldering flame. Will set its mark On the outward frame. Wouldst have me heal 31 Thy bodily woe ? — Lay open the dark, Deep trouble or wound in the soul below. Arthur. No, no ;— to thee ? No ; Nor to any physician of earth ! For a soul's disease To the healer of souls 1 go; since He, as Him it may please, Can kill or can cure. But who art thou, With daring so sure Thyself to thrust 'Twixt the sufferer's dearth And the bounty supreme, all-wise, of his God ? Chill. Nay ; I but told you That which I must. Be patient; and heed; Thy strength guard well. Election sermon to-morrow thou preachest. Thy mind must be calm. To weigh what thou teachest. And minister balm To thy reverent flock Who bow before thee And truly adore thee — Their shepherd, their saint and sheltering rock. Too well thy tender pity I know. Thy heart still bleeds for another's woe. And is ever oppressed 32 With the sorrow of her whose wrong is confessed. Arthur. Ha ! Thou meanest Qiill. Hester Prynne ! [Arthur, greatly agitated, seems about to remonstrate, or deny ; but Chillihgworth continues. Nay ; dare not protest : Thou Shalt not deny ! Turmoil of soul above all must thou dread ; For it saps thy force, and deepens disease. So good I know thee, so saintly kind, — For this poor woman thou long hast repined. And so have 1 ! But now, instead, Calm thy compassion ! Canst not appease Her conscience with thy sympathy.' {^Indicating Hester's hut. Lo, here she dwells : And, now we are nigh, Wilt thou not see her ? Arthur (excited, amazed). 1 ? — Thou forgetest — How may it be. Since here, condemned, she dwells apart.? Chill. Thou art her pastor. Thou hast the right 33 To see her, talk with her — heart to heart. Arthur. Dost thou think that /, then ChflJ. Yea ; thou of all men : Thy heart is so pure. Ah, go to her. Go ! Arthur. And thou! — Dost thou wait near ? CMl. Nay ; homeward I fare ; These herbs I now must distill. Arthur (gives token of relief ; aside). At last ! At last ! Chill, (aside). Now let her deal with the man as she will. And the black flower blossom as it may! Arthur (to Chill.) For a time, farewell. Chill. I go. {Aside.) Fare ill! [Exit Chillingwokth. Arthur (alone) . So long it seems — long years ! — I have dwelt amid darkness and tears, In the bonds of sin : While evil has gnawed at my life, without. And remorse has drained it, within. And long, ah ,long since I knew The touch of a happiness true, 34 Hester. Arth or. Or words without fear ! Would God I might break the chains of doubt, And call to thee, Hester ! Hester ! [Turns away ; sinking down on the moss. Enter HESTER, from hut. Hester. Thou, Arthur, — here ? Arthur. Who speaics ? Hester. 'lis I. Arthur. Thou, truly, Hester,— here in life? Know'st thou me not ; so long the time 'Twixt then and now ? I know thee well, but long is the time 'Twixt then and now, — Since our hidden joy was in its prime; For grief sets age upon my brow. And thou ; ah, thou, — Hast thou found peace ? Hester (pausing, shakes head and makes a gesture). Alas ! — Or thou release 1 Arthur. Nay ; naught but despair ! What else could be mine, Since, tho' I wander whithersoe'er My life is wrapt in dark deceit ? Hester. Yet still thy people reverence thee. 35 Hence the greater my misery : For Satan laughs, while my people praise. Happy art thou, who bearest On thy breast the Scarlet Letter. Happy ! — what dost thou say ? Ah, better, far better To wear that raiment Than life-long lurk in deceit. Woe unto me ! — My letter in secret still doth bum With a pain that never and never dies ; As though I stood at the judgment-seat, Nor ofifered even confession's payment; While from the throne above, Like trumpet-blasts, I hear the accusing voice : — " Thou, consecrate and placed O'er men, to teach them purity, False art thou to thy trust ! Thy calling hast thou disgraced. Soiled are thy robes, and thou Liest low in the dust ; A withered bough, That God into flame unending casts !" Had I but one friend. Or a foe — the worst — To whom I might bend Each day, and be known as a sinner vile, — E'en so much truth might reconcile My soul to life. But, now, each breath Is falsehood, emptiness — death ! Such a friend thou hast — 36 Behold ! — in me, O'er the bitter present, the vanished past Of thy sin and mine, To weep, with thee. Arthur. Ay ! Friend so true. Forgiving and tender, — Could charity human The wrong undo, Then were I saved by the faith of a woman Thro' pitying tears of rainbow splen- dor. Hester. Alas, not only a friend Serves thy behoof : There dwells with thee under thy roof The enemy thou dost desire ; A foe accursed ! Arthur. What mean'st thou ? That man ; — Gray Chillingworth ? Thou sayest that he My soul's deep may scan .' Long since I felt his presence was hate. And the grasp of his hand the clutch of fate. But, since thou dost know, Tell me: — why is he my foe.' Hester. Know, then, the truth till now from thee hid: This man of dread Who now doth hold us both appalled— He, Arthur, was my husband! Arthur. Thy husband ? O hideous thought. Beyond belief ! 37 Woman, what wrong" hast thou wrought, My soul to lay bare With its anguish of sin, That he, like a hawk of the air. Might pierce within, And the secret black from my bosom tear ? Thou hast struck me a blow None else might dare ; And hast laid me low In the dust at his feet. Where now shall I turn, — By mine enemy pent ? No refuge, now, for my soul's distress, Save the tangle deep of the wilderness Wherein to hide. [Pause. Or else — ah, see ! [ Takes out a phial from witkin his vestments. Hester, herein 1 hold a key To the prisoning earth. Wide it would open the gate To a life beyond : For cunningly Chillingworth This poison distilled From herbs that give death. Who knows if God willed, — Or hell -bom hate — That I the potion found ? 'Tis mine ; and be it a foe or friend. If its lips touch mine, my woe will end. Hester (seizes the poison -phial from him). No, no. It is not thine ! If freedom come. It shall be from my lips, — 38 Not those of death, that strike thee dumb. Why here abide ? Is the world not wide ? Nay ; bend thy steps to the path of the sea; It bore thee hither, and so again May carry thee hence, to make thee free. Arthur. I cannot go ! No strength have 1 To battle longer ; Far, far from thee To toil and strive new life to find. The endless pain Of sin unspoken my steps would track. And fling me prone. Ah, think !— in distant lands to wander ; Exiled, unknown. To die ! Hester (softly). Thou Shalt not go alone ! Arthur. Hester ! Hester. With thee I go ! We look not back, But forth with brave endeavor. To thee my strength I lend : My arm will shelter, my love enfold thee. No siren of death from me can withhold thee. Let our hearts take wing — As here the symbol of wrong I fling From my breast forever ! [Tearing off the Scarlet Letter, she throws it far from her. The hood, dropping from her head, lets her hair fall hose. Strong are we and young : Ay ; thou art so, my friend. 39 And dost thou not still find in me The beauty once to thee so dear ? Arthur. O Hester ! the glow Of thy love my love of life renews. Thy blood beats warm : With thee I brave the storm 1 At last we are free : The cloud of sorrow fades far behind us, And never the mist of the future shall blind us. Hester. Ay ; the past is gone ; We look to the coming years ; Since grief is done with, and dawn Makes joy of our midnight fears. Arthur. Thro' the forest the sunshine breaks, In a flood of radiance rolled ; And within us the splendor awakes Of happiness yet untold. Ah, Hester, the golden ray Of hope shines bright in thine eyes. Hester. Lo, the wings of a ship in the bay Wait but for the winds to arise, And waft us, with blessing divine, Far from this land of death. Arthur. O love ! each tone of thine To me is heaven's breath ! Hester and Arthur. Quick, let us haste From the desert waste And lingering shadows of olden sorrow. To follow the star of a golden morrow ! The white sail gleams With a light of dreams ; 4° It beckons us on with gladdening 'hope, No more in anguish dark to grope. To a land of new life The ship's prow speeds : Nor omens drear in its flight it heeds ; For grief is but foam in the sharp keel's furrow — Quick, then, escape ! Nor cast One glance at the stormy past ! [Curtain.] 41 ACT m. The Market-Place, as in Act I., with view of harbor at baek. A crowd of Puritan men and women, intermingled with men from forest settlements. Sailors interspersed among crowd. Ch'.llingworth is seen at one side, conferring closely with the Bristol Shipmaster. A crowd of English Pilgrims, just arriving at the Market-Place. During their song Chillingworth leaves the Shipmaster and disappears in the crowd. GLEE. The new Pilgfrims. From loud winds blowing, And ocean spray, We come to the seed-time sowing Of IVlassachusetts Bay, Then ho, to the New World, greeting ; And a hey for the pilgrim, hey ! With hope for the morrow And every day ; Or be it for gladness or sorrow, In New England we will stay, — Each true man with his sweeting, — And the law of the land obey ! Shipmaster (aossing stage). But as for me — To the ancient island lies my way, However wild the waves may be. I, in sooth, myself am wild ; And yet, a faithful child. Dear mother England I long to see. The new Pilgrims. With a heigh for the Pilgrim, hey I 42 [Music of Procession heard in distance. The crowd surges off to one side, looking for the pageant to approach. Chorus (behind the scenes). Hark! They are com- ing in stately array. Hear the music proud, the roll of the drumming. Cheer, now, cheer for Election day. The minister true and the new magis- trate Once more will ope to us liberty's gate, And close it against all hardy sin. Thank heaven we stand the gate within I Enter Hester. [Those of the people in ho are nearest her, shrink away, CHORUS. Puritans. The sign of thy sin A magic circle has drawn around thee ; Scorn ever shall hound thee : Away; away! [ They leave the stage, Hester. Alone ? ay, gladly ; For not, as once, an outcast prone I lie at your feet. My freedom I greet. And move apart — no longer sadly I No longer to you a bond-slave I moan, Nor dark spells now my soul defile. On the Scarlet Letter look your last ! For, yet a little while, 43 Your tyrant sway is past. Tho' now 1 must yield, There in the forest vast The blight from my bosom I cast : If here 1 endure it again, To triumph is turned this outward stain On the joy that throbs within me, sealed. Soon, soon beyond your reach, Harsh people merciless, I fly to the whispering tide And the loved one's caress. Yon dark mysterious sea will hide My wrong and my happiness From your evil speech ! [To the Shipmaster, who has come near her^ God greet thee ! All is well ? Shipmaster. Ay, mistress ; if I dare say so f I have it on truth of a witch's word ; And witches, I've heard, Know darkness from light. Our barque is ready : At anchor she rides For a turn of the tides : And, wind holding steady, We sail to-night. Good omen I deem it. And company rare, That you, sweet lady. With us will fare. Hester. Dost thou not know The best of omens thou canst hope Will be his presence who goes with me.? Shipmaster. Is it truly so .' 44 Then darkly I grope. Didst thou not say he flies in fear Of hurt from the Puritan Fathers here? If wrong he has wrought, How can his presence with blessing be fraught ? Still — the better, say I, if saint he be ! Since thou spokest, last night, Of passage flight. Yon old leech came to seek a berth. He, too, it seems, would aoss the earth. If saint and doctor together go, Fair winds indeed must blow. Hester (aside). Ah, worse than death those words presage ! [TV Shipmaster. Yon leech ! What mean you ? Shipmaster, Why, he — the old chirurgeon mage : Know you not .' — Chillingworth. Hester. Then he, too, has seen you ? Dost tell me now, that he will sail With us on your ship .' Shipmaster. Ay ; with a favoring gale And gladsome weather. To these bitter folk we'll give the slip. Is it not well done .? He— the hump-shouldered one — Long has he known your friend : They've dwelt together. The leech will cling to him unto the end. \He leaves her and mingles with the crowd. 45 Hester. Lost, lost, then. All is lost ! Nor in this New World solitude, Or amid-sea tossed. Can we the black enchantment elude ! [S^e perceives Chillingworth at the opposite side of the Market- place, smiling at her with vindic- tive meaning. O devil -face and mocking smile ! Where watchful malice ever lurks ! — What serpent in that heart of guile So sombre dwells and slyly works, — Sharp gleaming on me from his eyes? Our plot he unriddles; our hope forestalls. With craft unknown. Closer he holds us than prison- walls : Hate is harder than stone. Ah, if unto Arthur One word of waming I might but speak ! Yet, alas, 'mid the multitude scorn- ing, The sole one who loves me 1 dare not seek. Help, help! Will God not find us, 'Mid the snares of hell that bind us ? [Musit of procession heard nearer. 46 Chill, (on opposite side of market-place). In vain the wile Of flight or turning ; And wasted all her woeful cries ! For unto my hate, like incense burn- ing, Her flame of agony still doth rise. The last word is spoken ; Her last hope broken ; Her with her lover henceforth I hold In the mesh of my net. They shall render me yet A heavier price of their wrong, than gold. And what can their anguish weigh 'Gainst the hurt to my hidden pride ? Or go they or stay, My vengeance they still must abide, And in torture burn ; — For all entreating of pity I spurn. Chorus (behind the scenes). How gayly they play ! They know the tune for Election Day. [Enter Band 0/ Musicians, from one side, followed by the populace, Chortis. The Company AncTent Of Honored Artillery ! \Enter escort of Citizen Soldiers — the Ancient a>id Honorable Artil- lery Company — in burnished steel, with gay plumes nodding over their morions. * Chortu. And the magistrates ! Lo, They come with fitting footsteps slow. 47 Enter Bellingham. Chorus. Thou who wast governor, — Praised be thy skill ! But now we greet our new ruler, The choice of the people's will. Beat loud the drums ! John Endicott comes. Endicott ! Endicott !— Governor elect ! \Enter, during this chorus, GOVER- NOR John Endicott, accompanied by other dignitaries, and bows to the crowd, right and left, Belling- HAM, Endicott and the others arrange themselves near Church, at back. Chorus. Behold our pastor — Dear iVlaster Arthur. And yet his face — how pale I A shadow sable Draws round him as he advances. Nay, these are fancies ; For see how firm, erect He steps, — as though some purpose high His wealcness were sustaining. God-given impulse only, past all fear. Could guide his forces frail To bring us here His treasure of teaching. And bounteous preaching — Sweet thoughts upon us raining. Welcome, our pastor : hail — Our hope that cannot fail ! {Enter Arthur, with Wilson, 48 BellinghAM, Endicott and the others ■wait for Arthur to approach the Church, through the lane which they have formed. Arthur, standing erect, yet apparently weak physically, pauses. Then, in- stead of going toward the Church, he turns ; crosses the stage slowly, and beckons to Hester. Arthur. Hester, come hither: My Hester come ! [Hester, who till now has remained where she was, half crouching in de- spair, draws herself up and moves toward him slowly, as if spellbound. Chill, (starting forth from the crowd). Hold, madman ! Hold ! What dreams distraught Your senses benumb ! Wave back that woman ! I yet can save you : All shall be well. Arthur. Ha, tempter appalling, Thou art too late ! Thy power no longer My life controls : A spirit stronger Than thine quells thy hate. God is mighty above us. The soul of souls My will at last sets free from thine : I shall escape thee now ! Chorus. What trouble does Satan foi us design ? Some phantasy strange pursuing The blameless mind, his reason has shaken ! 49 Arthur. Come, Hester Prynne, Thou who knowest my sin ; Ay, Hester, come in His name, So terrible, yet in mercy so mild, Who has granted me grace At the final hour to proclaim My wickedness here, and face to face, The evil so long within bemoaned, But never owned. Aloud to speak. Thy offered strength around me twine ; But let it obey the will divine ! Ah, Hester, 1 need thee ; For stricken, weary and weak. Now at the end, Tho' it be but with steps of a little child, — Yon scaffold with thee will I ascend. [He points to the Pillory, taking iizs- TER'sAand. Tlu people murmur, but are dazed, and dare not inter- pose, as Arthur and Hester move toward the Pillory, and mount it. Chillingworth fol- lows them to the steps. Bcllingham. Some witchcraft, I fear, Or spirit impure. His mind doth decdve. Thou, Father Wilson, The devil adjure That in peace our Arthur he leave. Wilson. Arthur, Arthur, this magic forsake : To thy true self awake 1 Arthur (standing with HESTER on Pillory). O people of New England ! so Ye still who love me, And holy have deemed me ! Your pastor behold, Not as you long have dreamed me. But, as heaven shines high above me,— So of all sinners the lowest. Thou Shalt reap as thou sowest ! From falsehood's seed I gamer disgrace : But, lo, 1 uproot the shriveled weed. And the flower of truth blooms here, in its place ! The Scarlet Letter that Hester wears— Ye have shuddered at, long : But its lurid ray Was but as a shadow of that fierce fire Of smothered wrong That, night and day. With flaming despairs My breast has scarred, and branded my soul ! Her fellow in sin, I have won my desire And reached my goal ; For I stand now beside her. The debt of my guilt's confession to pay, So long denied her. If any here still God's judgment deny, Here now ere I die Let them witness his will In the blood-red mark revealed on my breast : The Scarlet Letter— behold ! [Tears away the ministerial band /ram before his breast, and sinks back- ward, supported by Hbster. 51 Chorus. O wonder ! Weird and awful sign ! Saw you tlie living toicen Baleful blazing, over his heart Tracing its fearful sanguine line ? If truth he has spolcen — Ah, pity accord ! Arthur we praised, And Hester abhorred : So far we kept them in thought apart : Yet now, amazed. Together we see them brought, In the chain of justice God hath wrought. Chill, (crouching in despair on the Pillory steps). Thou hast escaped me ! Hadst thou sought the whole world over, No place or high or lowly Couldst thou have found Wherein to baffle me wholly, — Save this mean scaffold's bound ! Hester. O Arthur, loolc not afar from me ! Here close am I, and my love replies To the light of thine eyes. Turn thou not away ! Ah, whither, then, does thy spirit stray ? Arthur. To the land of the fountain unending Of peace my soul is wending. Where sorrow ne'er draws breath. Ah, far to wander we planned, Dear Hester — thou and I — To a foreign strand. But now I voyage beyond the sky — To that home I seek, the land Of death ! Hester. Wait, Arthur ! Wait! For dost thou not remember, I told thee in the forest Thou Shalt not go alone ? [Arthur sighs, looks at her longingly, then dies. Ha ! Hast thou fled me,— So swiftly gone ? My dearest one— O soul beloved ? \_Takes out from her bosom the poison phial. Thee, then, I'll follow! The poignant draught Brewed by our enemy's fateful craft, Will give me release. Thou, too, dear Arthur, Didst from it seek freedom , And I sought to save thee. 'Twill save me from life : And sweet to my lips its coldness comes, As the cool winds that blow From mountains white forever with snow. Thou Shalt not go alone ! \^She drinks the poison and dies. Chorus. Hush, hush ! Their souls are fled. Peace unto the dead ! The flower of sacrifice Blooms in no earthly garden. Thou, Hester, over us triumph hast won ; Toward mercy turning our sullen hate. Thou, Arthur, though repenting late,— May God thee pardon ! [End of the Scarlet Letter.] c blna, Pottery, and Glassware The Largest Wholesale House in the Country ^ ^ ATHENIAN WARE Manufacturers of Rich Cut-Glass. Over 50 Patented Designs ^ REPRODUCTIONS OF GREEK KERAMICS Ji This ATHENIAN WARE is thoroughly Greek in character, being after designs derived from vases unearthed by Dr. Schlieman. PERFECT IN COLORING AND HGURE WORK L. STRAUS & SONS IMPORTERS AND MANUFACTURERS andtf6''chtl^r^^r! 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