The Scarlet Letter: A Romance - Section 11 - The Elf-Child and the Minister

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Dream Ario Books presents Section eleven of The Scarlet Letter
by Nathaniel Hawthorne, Chapter eight. The elf Child and the
Minister Governor Bellingham, in a loose gown and easy cap
such as elderly gentlemen loved to endue themselves with in
their domestic privacy, walked foremost and appeared to be showing

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off his estate and expatiating on his projected improvements. The
wide circumference of an elaborate rough beneath his gray beard,
in the antiquated fashion of King James's reign, caused his
head to look not a little like that of John
the Baptist in a charger. The impression made by his aspect,
so rigid and severe and frostbitten with more than autumnal age,

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was hardly in keeping with the appliances of worldly enjoyment,
wherewith he had evidently done his utmost to surround himself.
But it is an error to suppose that our grave forefathers,
though accustomed to speak and think of human existence as
a state merely of trial and warfare, and though unfeignedly
prepared to sacrifice goods and life at the behest of duty,

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made to matter of conscience to reject such means of
comfort or even luxury, as lay fairly within their grasp.
This creed was never taught, for instance, by the venerable
Pastor John Wilson, whose beard white as a snowdrift, was
seen over Governor Bellingham's shoulder, while its wearer suggested that

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pears and peaches might yet be naturalized in the New
England climate, and that purple grapes might possibly be compelled
to flourish against the sunny garden wall. The old clergyman,
nurtured at the rich bosom of the English Church, had
a long established and legitimate taste for all good and
comfortable things. And, however stern he might show himself in

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the pulpit or in his public reproof of such transgressions
as that of Hester Prynne, still all the genial benevolence
of his private life had won him warmer affection than
was accorded to any of his professional contemporaries. Behind the
Governor and mister Wilson came two other guests, one the
Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale, whom the reader may remember as having

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taken a brief and reluctant part in the scene of
hester Prynne's disgrace, and in close companionship with him Old
Roger Chillingworth, a person of great skill in physic who
for two or three years past had been settled in
the town. It was understood that this learned man was
the physician as well as friend of the young minister,

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whose health had severely suffered of late by his too
unreserved self sacrifice to the labours and duties of the
pastoral relation. The Governor, in advance of his visitors, ascended
one or two steps, and, throwing open the leaves of
the great hall window, found himself close to little Pearl.

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The shadow of the curse and fell on hester Prynne
and partially concealed her. What have we here, said Governor Bellingham,
looking with surprise at the scarlet little figure before him.
I profess I have never seen the like since my
days of vanity, in Old King James's time, when I
was wont to esteem it a high favor to be

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admitted to a court mask, there used to be a
swarm of these little apparitions in holiday time, and we
called them children of the Lord of misrule. But how
goat such a guest into my hall? Aye, indeed, cried
good old mister Wilson, What little bird of scarlet plumage?
May this be? Methinks I have seen just such figures

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when the sun has been shining through a richly panted
window and tracing out the golden and crimson images across
the floor. But that was in the old Land. Prithee,
young one, who art thou, and what has ailed thy
mother to bedizen thee in this strange fashion? Art thou
a Christian child? Ha dost thou know thy Catechism? Or

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art thou one of those naughty elves or fairies whom
we thought to have left behind us with other relics
of papistry in merry old England. I am mother's child,
answered the scarlet vision, and my name is pearl, pearl, ruby,
rather or coral or red rose, at the very least,

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judging from thy hue, responded the old minister, putting forth
his hand in a vain attempt to pat little pearl
on the cheek. But where is this mother of thine? Ah?
I see, he added, and, turning to Governor Bellingham, whispered,
this is the self same child of whom we have
held speech together, And behold here the unhappy woman Hester Prynne,

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her mother. Sayest thou, so, cried the Governor. Nay, we
might have judged that such a child's mother must needs
be a scarlet woman and a worthy type of her
of Babylon. But she comes at a good time, and
we will look into this matter forthwith. Governor Bellingham stepped
through the window into the hall, followed by his three guests.

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Esther Prynne, said, he fixing his naturally stern regard on
the wearer of the scarlet letter. There hath been much
question concerning thee of late the point hath been weightly
discussed whether we that are of authority and influence do
well discharge our consciences by trusting an immortal soul, such
as there is in yonder child, to the guidance of

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one who hath stumbled and fallen amid the pitfalls of
this world, speakest thou the child's own mother. Were it not,
thinkest thou, for thy little one's temporal and eternal welfare,
that she should be taken out of thy charge and
clad soberly and disciplined strictly, and instructed in the truths
of heaven and earth. What canst thou do for the

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child in this kind, I can teach my little pal
what I have learned from this, answered Hester Prynne, laying
her finger on the red token. Woman. It is thy
badge of shame, replied the stern magistrate. It is because
of the stain which that letter indicates, that we would
transfer thy child to other hands. Nevertheless, said the mother, calmly,

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though growing more pale, this badge hath taught me. It
daily teaches me. It is teaching me at this moment,
lessons whereof my child may be the wiser and better,
albeit they can profit nothing to myself. We will judge, warily,
said Bellingham. And look well what we are about to do.

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Good Master Wilson, I pray you examine this pearl, since
that is her name, and see whether she hath had
such Christian nurture as befits a child of her age.
The old minister seated himself in an arm chair and
made an effort to draw pearl betwixt his knees. But
the child, unaccustomed to the touch or familiarity of any

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but her mother, escaped through the open window and stood
on the upper step, looking like a wild tropical bird
of rich plumage ready to take flight into the upper air.
Mister Wilson not a little astonished at this outbreak, for
he was a grandfatherly sort of personage, and usually a
vast favorite with children. Essayed, However, to proceed with the examination,

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Pearl said he, with great solemnity, thou must take heed
to instruction, that so in due season thou mayest wear
in thy bosom the pearl of great price? Canst thou
tell me my child? Who made thee Now Pearl knew
well enough who made her for Hester Prynne, the daughter
of a pious home. Very soon after her talk with

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the child about her heavenly father had begun to inform
her of those truths which the human spirit, at whatever
stage of immaturity, imbibes with such eager interest. Pearl, therefore,
so large were the attainments of her three years lifetime,
could have borne a fair examination in the New England
Primer or the first column of the Westminster Catechisms, although

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unacquainted with the outward form of either of those celebrated works.
But that perversity which all children have more or less of,
and of which little Pearl had a tenfold portion. Now
at the most inopportune moment, took thorough possession of her
and closed her lips or impelled her to speak words amiss.

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After putting her finger in her mouth. With many ungracious
refusals to answer good mister Wilson's question, the child finally
announced that she had not been made at all, but
had been plucked by her mother off the bush of
wild roses that grew by the prison door. This fantasy
was probably suggested by the near proximity of the governor's
red roses as Pearl stood outside of the window, together

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with her recollection of the prison rose bush, which she
had passed in coming. Hither, Old Roger Chillingworth, with a
smile on his face, whispered something in the young clergyman's ear.
Hester Prynne looked at the man of skill, and, even then,
with her fate hanging in the balance, was startled to
perceive what a change had come over his features, how

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much uglier they were, how his dark complexion seemed to
have grown duskier and his figure more misshapen since the
days when she had familiarly known him. She met his
eyes for an instant, but was immediately constrained to give
all her attention to the scene. Now going forward, this
is awful, cried the governor, slowly recovering from the astonishment

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into which Pearl's response had thrown him. Here is a
child of three years old, and she cannot tell who
made her. Without question, she is equally in the darkest
to her soul, its present depravity and future destiny. Methinks, gentlemen,
we need inquire no further Esther caught hold of Pearl

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and drew her forcibly into her arms, confronting the old
Puritan magistrate with almost a fierce expression, alone in the world,
cast off by it, and with this sole treasure to
keep her heart alive. She felt that she possessed indefeasible
rights against the world, and was ready to defend them
to the death. God gave me the child, cried she.

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He gave her in requital of all things else which
ye had taken from me. She is my happiness. She
is my torture. None the less Pearl keeps me here
in life. Pearl punishes me too, see ye not, She
is the scarlet letter, only capable of being loved, and
so endowed with a millionfold the power of retribution for

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my sin. Ye shall not take her. I will die first,
my poor woman, said the not unkind old minister. The
child shall be well cared for, far better than thou
can do it. God gave her into my keeping, repeated
hester Prynne, raising her voice almost to a shriek. I

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will not give her up. And here, by a sudden impulse,
she turned to the young clergyman, mister Dimmesdale, at whom
up to this moment she had seemed hardly so much
as once to direct her eyes. Speak thou for me,
cried she. Thou wast my pastor and hadst charge of
my soul, and knowest me better than these men can.

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I will not lose the child. Speak for me, thou knowest,
for thou hast sympathies which these men lack. Thou knowest
what is in my heart? And what are a mother's rights,
and how much the stronger they are when that woman
has but her child and the scarlet letter. Look thou
to it. I will not lose the child. Look to it.

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At this wild and singular appeal, which indicated that hester
Prynne's situation had provoked at her little less than madness,
the young minister at once came forward, pale and holding
his hand over his heart, as was his custom when
his peculiarly nervous temperament was thrown into agitation. He looked
now more careworn and emaciated than we described him at

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the scene of Hester's public ignominy, And whether it were
his failing health or whatever the cause might be, his
large dark eyes had a world of pain in their
troubled and melancholy depths. There is truth in what she says,
began the Minister, with a voice, sweet, tremulous, but powerful,
in so much that the hall re echoed and the

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hollow armor rang with it. Truth in what Hester says,
and in the feeling which inspires her. God gave her
the child, and gave her too, an instinctive knowledge of
its nature and requirements, both seemingly so peculiar, which no
other mortal being can possess. And moreover, is there not

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a quality of awful sacredness in the relation between this
mother and this child? Aye? How is that? Good Master
Dimsdale interrupted the Governor. Make that plain. I pray you
it must be even so, resumed the Minister. For if
we deem it otherwise, do we not thereby say that

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the heavenly Father, the creator of all flesh, hath lightly
recognized a deed of sin and made of no account
the distinction between unhallowed lust and holy love. This child,
of its father's guilt and its mother's shame, hath come
from the hand of God to work in many ways

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upon her heart, who plead so earnestly and with such
bitterness of spirit, the right to keep her It was
meant for a blessing, for the one blessing of her life.
It was meant, doubtless as the mother herself. Hath told
us for a retribution too, a torture to be felt
at many, an unthought of moment, a pang, a sting,

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an ever recurring agony in the midst of a troubled joy.
Hath she not expressed this thought in the garb of
the poor child, so forcibly reminding us of that red
symbol which sears her Bosom well said again, cried good
mister Wilson. I feared the woman had no better thought

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than to make a mountebank of her child. Oh not so,
not so, continued mister Dimmesdale. She recognizes, believe me, the
solemn miracle which God hath wrought in the existence of
that child, and may she feel too, what methinks is
the very truth that this boon was meant, above all

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things else to keep the mother's soul alive, and to
preserve her from blacker depths of sin into which Satan
might else have sought to play unsha. Therefore, it is
good for this poor sinful woman that she hath an
infant immortality, being capable of eternal joy or sorrow, confided

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to her care, to be trained up by her to righteousness,
to remind her at every moment of her fall, but
yet to teach her, as it were, by the creator's
sacred pledge, that if she bring the child to heaven,
the child will also bring its parent thither. Herein is

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the sinful mother happier than the sinful father. For hester
Prynne's sake, then, and no less for the poor child's sake,
let us leave them as Providence hath seen fit to
place them. You speak, my friend, with a strange earnestness,
said old Roger Chillingworth, smiling at him. And there is

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a weighty import in what my young brother hath spoken,
added the reverend mister Wilson. What say you, worship Master Bellingham,
hath he not pleaded well for the poor woman. Indeed,
hath he answered the magistrate, and hath adduced such arguments
that we will even leave the matter as it now stands,

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so long at least as there shall be no further
scandal than the woman care must be had. Nevertheless, to
put the child to due and stated examination in the
Catechism at thy hands or Master Dimmesdale's. Moreover, at proper season,
the tithing men must take heed that she go both
to school and to meeting. The young minister, on ceasing

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to speak, had withdrawn a few steps from the group,
and stood with his face partially concealed in the heavy
folds of the window curtain, while the shadow of his vigor,
which the sunlight cast upon the floor, was tremulous with
the vehemence of his appeal. Pearl, that wild and flighty
little elf, stole softly towards him, and taking his head,

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and in the grasp of both her own, laid her
cheek against it, a caress so tender and withal so unobtrusive,
that her mother, who was looking on, asked herself, is
that my pearl? Yet she knew that there was love
in the child's heart, though it mostly revealed itself in passion,

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and hardly twice in her lifetime had been softened by
such gentleness as now the Minister for save the long
sought regards of woman, nothing is sweeter than these marks
of childish preference, accorded spontaneously by a spiritual instinct, and
therefore seeming to imply in us something truly worthy to

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be loved. The Minister looked round, laid his hand on
the child's head, hesitated an instant, and then kissed her brow.
Little Pearl's unwonted mood of sentiment lasted no longer. She
laughed and went capering down the hall so airily that
old mister Wilson raised a question whether even her tiptoes

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touched the floor. The little baggage hath witchcraft in her, i, profess,
said he to mister Dimmesdale. She needs no old woman's
broomstick to fly withal. A strange child, remarked Old Roger Chillingworth.
It is easy to see the mother's part in her.
Would it be beyond a philosopher's research, think, ye, gentleman,

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to analyze that child's nature and from its make and
mold to give a shrewd guess at the father. Nay,
it would be sinful in such a question to follow
the clue of profane philosophy, said mister Wilson. Better to
fast and prey upon it. And still better it may be,
to leave the mystery as we find it, unless Providence

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reveal it of its own accord. Thereby, every good Christian
man hath a title to show of Father's kindness towards
the poor, deserted babe. The affair being so satisfactorily concluded,
Hester Prynne with pearl departed from the house. As they
descended the steps, it is averred that the lattice of

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a chamber window was thrown open, and forth into the
sunny day was thrust the face of Mistress Hibbins, Governor
Bellingham's bitter tempered sister, and the same who, a few
years later was executed as a witch. Hist hist said she,
while her ill ome and physiognomy seemed to cast a
shadow over the cheerful newness of the house, Wilt thou

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go with us to night? There will be a merry
company in the forest, And I well nigh promised the
black man that comely Hester Prynne should make one make
my excuse to him, so please you, answered Hester with
a triumphant smile. I must tarry at home and keep
watch over my little pearl. Had they taken her from me,

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I would willingly have gone with thee into the forest
and signed my name in the black Man's book too,
and that with my own blood we shall have thee. There, anon,
said the witch lady, frowning as she drew back her head.
But here, if we suppose this interview betwixt Mistress Hibbins
and Hester Prynne to be authentic and not a parable,

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was already an illustration of the young Minister's argument against sundering.
The relation of a fallen mother to the offspring of
her frailty, even thus early, had the child saved her
from Satan's snare. End of Section eleven. Dream Audio Books
hopes you have enjoyed this program.