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The Scarlet Letter

Page 41

"My old studies in alchemy," observed he, "and my sojourn, for

above a year past, among a people well versed in the kindly

properties of simples, have made a better physician of me than

many that claim the medical degree. Here, woman! The child is

yours--she is none of mine--neither will she recognise my voice

or aspect as a father's. Administer this draught, therefore,

with thine own hand."

Hester repelled the offered medicine, at the same time gazing

with strongly marked apprehension into his face. "Wouldst thou

avenge thyself on the innocent babe?" whispered she.

"Foolish woman!" responded the physician, half coldly, half

soothingly. "What should ail me to harm this misbegotten and

miserable babe? The medicine is potent for good, and were it my

child--yea, mine own, as well as thine! I could do no better for

it."

As she still hesitated, being, in fact, in no reasonable state

of mind, he took the infant in his arms, and himself

administered the draught. It soon proved its efficacy, and

redeemed the leech's pledge. The moans of the little patient

subsided; its convulsive tossings gradually ceased; and in a few

moments, as is the custom of young children after relief from

pain, it sank into a profound and dewy slumber. The physician,

as he had a fair right to be termed, next bestowed his attention

on the mother. With calm and intent scrutiny, he felt her pulse,

looked into her eyes--a gaze that made her heart shrink and

shudder, because so familiar, and yet so strange and cold--and,

finally, satisfied with his investigation, proceeded to mingle

another draught.

"I know not Lethe nor Nepenthe," remarked he; "but I have

learned many new secrets in the wilderness, and here is one of

them--a recipe that an Indian taught me, in requital of some

lessons of my own, that were as old as Paracelsus. Drink it! It

may be less soothing than a sinless conscience. That I cannot

give thee. But it will calm the swell and heaving of thy

passion, like oil thrown on the waves of a tempestuous sea."

He presented the cup to Hester, who received it with a slow,

earnest look into his face; not precisely a look of fear, yet

full of doubt and questioning as to what his purposes might be.

She looked also at her slumbering child.

"I have thought of death," said she--"have wished for it--would

even have prayed for it, were it fit that such as I should pray

for anything. Yet, if death be in this cup, I bid thee think

again, ere thou beholdest me quaff it. See! it is even now at my

lips."

"Drink, then," replied he, still with the same cold composure.

"Dost thou know me so little, Hester Prynne? Are my purposes

wont to be so shallow? Even if I imagine a scheme of vengeance,

what could I do better for my object than to let thee live--than

to give thee medicines against all harm and peril of life--so

that this burning shame may still blaze upon thy bosom?" As he

spoke, he laid his long fore-finger on the scarlet letter, which

forthwith seemed to scorch into Hester's breast, as if it had

been red hot. He noticed her involuntary gesture, and smiled.

"Live, therefore, and bear about thy doom with thee, in the eyes

of men and women--in the eyes of him whom thou didst call thy

husband--in the eyes of yonder child! And, that thou mayest

live, take off this draught."

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