you, therefore, to tell me
of Hester Prynne's—have I her name rightly?—of
this woman's offences, and what has brought
her to yonder scaffold?"
"Truly, friend; and methinks it must gladden
your heart, after your troubles and sojourn
in the wilderness," said the townsman, "to
find yourself at length in a land where iniquity
is searched out and punished in the sight
of rulers and people, as here in our godly
New England. Yonder woman, Sir, you must know,
was the wife of a certain learned man, English
by birth, but who had long ago dwelt in Amsterdam,
whence some good time agone he was minded
to cross over and cast in his lot with us
of the Massachusetts. To this purpose he sent
his wife before him, remaining himself to
look after some necessary affairs. Marry,
good Sir, in some two years, or less, that
the womanstranger with
another smile, "should come himself to look
into the mystery."
"It behoves him well if he be still in life,"
responded the townsman. "Now, good Sir, our
Massachusetts magistracy, bethinking themselves
that this woman is youthful and fair, and
doubtless was strongly tempted to her fall,
and that, moreover, as is most likely, her
husband may be at the bottom of the sea, they
have not been bold to put in force the extremity
of our righteous law against her. The penalty
thereof is death. But in their great mercy
and tenderness of heart they have doomed Mistress
Prynne to stand only a space of three hours
on the platform of the pillory, and then and
thereafter, for the remainder of her natural
life to wear a mark of shame upon her bosom."
"A wise sentence," remarked the stranger,
gravely, bowing his head. "Thus she