Young Goodman Brown came forth at sunset into the street at Salem village; but put his head back, after crossing the threshold, to exchange a parting kiss with his young wife. And Faith, as the wife was aptly named, thrust her own pretty head into the street, letting the wind play with the pink ribbons of her cap while she called to Goodman Brown.
“Dearest heart,”whispered she, softly and rather sadly, when her lips were close to his ear,“prithee put off your journey until sunrise and sleep in your own bed to-night. A lone woman is troubled with such dreams and such thoughts that she's afeard of herself sometimes. Pray tarry with me this night, dear husband, of all nights in the year.”
“My love and my Faith,”replied young Goodman Brown,“of all nights in the year, this one night must I tarry away from thee. My journey, as thou callest it, forth and back again, must needs be done 'twixt now and sunrise. What, my sweet, pretty wife, dost thou doubt me already, and we but three months married?”
“Then God bless you!”said Faith, with the pink ribbons;“and may you find all well when you come back.”
“Amen!”cried Goodman Brown.“Say thy prayers, dear Faith, and go to bed at dusk, and no harm will come to thee.”
So they parted; and the young man pursued his way until, being about to turn the corner by the meeting-house, he looked back and saw the head of Faith still peeping after him with a melancholy air, in spite of her pink ribbons.
“Poor little Faith!”thought he, for his heart smote him.“What a wretch am I to leave her on such an errand! She talks of dreams, too. Methought as she spoke there was trouble in her face, as if a dream had warned her what work is to be done tonight. But no, no; 't would kill her to think it. Well, she's a blessed angel on earth; and after this one night I'll cling to her skirts and follow her to heaven.”
With this excellent resolve for the future, Goodman Brown felt himself justified in making more haste on his present evil purpose. He had taken a dreary road, darkened by all the gloomiest trees of the forest, which barely stood aside to let the narrow path creep through, and closed immediately behind. It was all as lonely as could be; and there is this peculiarity in such a solitude, that the traveller knows not who may be concealed by the innumerable trunks and the thick boughs overhead; so that with lonely footsteps he may yet be passing through an unseen multitude.
“There may be a devilish Indian behind every tree,”said Goodman Brown to himself; and he glanced fearfully behind him as he added,“What if the devil himself should be at my very elbow!”
His head being turned back, he passed a crook of the road, and, looking forward again, beheld the figure of a man, in grave and decent attire, seated at the foot of an old tree. He arose at Goodman Brown's approach and walked onward side by side with him.
“You are late, Goodman Brown,”said he.“The clock of the Old South was striking as I came through Boston, and that is full fifteen minutes agone.”
“Faith kept me back a while,”replied the young man, with a tremor in his voice, caused by the sudden appearance of his companion, though not wholly unexpected.
It was now deep dusk in the forest, and deepest in that part of it where these two were journeying. As nearly as could be discerned, the second traveller was about fifty years old, apparently in the same rank of life as Goodman Brown, and bearing a considerable resemblance to him, though perhaps more in expression than features. Still they might have been taken for father and son. And yet, though the elder person was as simply clad as the younger, and as simple in manner too, he had an indescribable air of one who knew the world, and who would not have felt abashed at the governor's dinner table or in King William's court, were it possible that his affairs should call him thither. But the only thing about him that could be fixed upon as remarkable was his staff, which bore the likeness of a great black snake, so curiously wrought that it might almost be seen to twist and wriggle itself like a living serpent. This, of course, must have been an ocular deception, assisted by the uncertain light.
“Come, Goodman Brown,”cried his fellow-traveller,“this is a dull pace for the beginning of a journey. Take my staff, if you are so soon weary.”
“Friend,”said the other, exchanging his slow pace for a full stop,“having kept covenant by meeting thee here, it is my purpose now to return whence I came. I have scruples touching the matter thou wot'st of.”
“Sayest thou so?”replied he of the serpent, smiling apart.“Let us walk on, nevertheless, reasoning as we go; and if I convince thee not thou shalt turn back. We are but a little way in the forest yet.”
“Too far! too far!”exclaimed the goodman, unconsciously resuming his walk.“My father never went into the woods on such an errand, nor his father before him. We have been a race of honest men and good Christians since the days of the martyrs; and shall I be the first of the name of Brown that ever took this path and kept—”
“Such company, thou wouldst say,”observed the elder person, interpreting his pause.“Well said, Goodman Brown! I have been as well acquainted with your family as with ever a one among the Puritans; and that's no trifle to say. I helped your grandfather, the constable, when he lashed the Quaker woman so smartly through the streets of Salem; and it was I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot, kindled at my own hearth, to set fire to an Indian village, in King Philip's war. They were my good friends, both; and many a pleasant walk have we had along this path, and returned merrily after midnight. I would fain be friends with you for their sake.”
“If it be as thou sayest,”replied Goodman Brown,“I marvel they never spoke of these matters; or, verily, I marvel not, seeing that the least rumor of the sort would have driven them from New England. We are a people of prayer, and good works to boot, and abide no such wickedness.”
“Wickedness or not,”said the traveller with the twisted staff,“I have a very general acquaintance here in New England. The deacons of many a church have drunk the communion wine with me; the selectmen of divers towns make me their chairman; and a majority of the Great and General Court are firm supporters of my interest. The governor and I, too—But these are state secrets.”
“Can this be so?”cried Goodman Brown, with a stare of amazement at his undisturbed companion.“Howbeit, I have nothing to do with the governor and council; they have their own ways, and are no rule for a simple husbandman like me. But, were I to go on with thee, how should I meet the eye of that good old man, our minister, at Salem village? Oh, his voice would make me tremble both Sabbath day and lecture day.”
Thus far the elder traveller had listened with due gravity; but now burst into a fit of irrepressible mirth, shaking himself so violently that his snake-like staff actually seemed to wriggle in sympathy.
“Ha! ha! ha!”shouted he again and again; then composing himself,“Well, go on, Goodman Brown, go on; but, prithee, don't kill me with laughing.”
“Well, then, to end the matter at once,”said Goodman Brown, considerably nettled,“there is my wife, Faith. It would break her dear little heart; and I'd rather break my own.”
“Nay, if that be the case,”answered the other,“e'en go thy ways, Goodman Brown. I would not for twenty old women like the one hobbling before us that Faith should come to any harm.”
As he spoke he pointed his staff at a female figure on the path, in whom Goodman Brown recognized a very pious and exemplary dame, who had taught him his catechism in youth, and was still his moral and spiritual adviser, jointly with the minister and Deacon Gookin.
“A marvel, truly, that Goody Cloyse should be so far in the wilderness at nightfall,”said he.“But with your leave, friend, I shall take a cut through the woods until we have left this Christian woman behind. Being a stranger to you, she might ask whom I was consorting with and whither I was going.”
“Be it so,”said his fellow-traveller.“Betake you to the woods, and let me keep the path.”
Accordingly the young man turned aside, but took care to watch his companion, who advanced softly along the road until he had come within a staff's length of the old dame. She, meanwhile, was making the best of her way, with singular speed for so aged a woman, and mumbling some indistinct words—a prayer, doubtless—as she went. The traveller put forth his staff and touched her withered neck with what seemed the serpent's tail.
“The devil!”screamed the pious old lady.
“Then Goody Cloyse knows her old friend?”observed the traveller, confronting her and leaning on his writhing stick.
“Ah, forsooth, and is it your worship indeed?”cried the good dame.“Yea, truly is it, and in the very image of my old gossip, Goodman Brown, the grandfather of the silly fellow that now is. But—would your worship believe it?—my broomstick hath strangely disappeared, stolen, as I suspect, by that unhanged witch, Goody Cory, and that, too, when I was all anointed with the juice of smallage, and cinquefoil, and wolf's bane—”
“Mingled with fine wheat and the fat of a new-born babe,”said the shape of old Goodman Brown.
“Ah, your worship knows the recipe,”cried the old lady, cackling aloud.“So, as I was saying, being all ready for the meeting, and no horse to ride on, I made up my mind to foot it; for they tell me there is a nice young man to be taken into communion to-night. But now your good worship will lend me your arm, and we shall be there in a twinkling.”
“That can hardly be,”answered her friend.“I may not spare you my arm, Goody Cloyse; but here is my staff, if you will.”
So saying, he threw it down at her feet, where, perhaps, it assumed life, being one of the rods which its owner had formerly lent to the Egyptian magi. Of this fact, however, Goodman Brown could not take cognizance. He had cast up his eyes in astonishment, and, looking down again, beheld neither Goody Cloyse nor the serpentine staff, but his fellow-traveller alone, who waited for him as calmly as if nothing had happened.
“That old woman taught me my catechism,”said the young man; and there was a world of meaning in this simple comment.
They continued to walk onward, while the elder traveller exhorted his companion to make good speed and persevere in the path, discoursing so aptly that his arguments seemed rather to spring up in the bosom of his auditor than to be suggested by himself. As they went, he plucked a branch of maple to serve for a walking stick, and began to strip it of the twigs and little boughs, which were wet with evening dew. The moment his fingers touched them they became strangely withered and dried up as with a week's sunshine. Thus the pair proceeded, at a good free pace, until suddenly, in a gloomy hollow of the road, Goodman Brown sat himself down on the stump of a tree and refused to go any farther.
“Friend,”said he, stubbornly,“my mind is made up. Not another step will I budge on this errand. What if a wretched old woman do choose to go to the devil when I thought she was going to heaven: is that any reason why I should quit my dear Faith and go after her?”
“You will think better of this by and by,”said his acquaintance, composedly.“Sit here and rest yourself a while; and when you feel like moving again, there is my staff to help you along.”
Without more words, he threw his companion the maple stick, and was as speedily out of sight as if he had vanished into the deepening gloom. The young man sat a few moments by the roadside, applauding himself greatly, and thinking with how clear a conscience he should meet the minister in his morning walk, nor shrink from the eye of good old Deacon Gookin. And what calm sleep would be his that very night, which was to have been spent so wickedly, but so purely and sweetly now, in the arms of Faith! Amidst these pleasant and praiseworthy meditations, Goodman Brown heard the tramp of horses along the road, and deemed it advisable to conceal himself within the verge of the forest, conscious of the guilty purpose that had brought him thither, though now so happily turned from it.
On came the hoof tramps and the voices of the riders, two grave old voices, conversing soberly as they drew near. These mingled sounds appeared to pass along the road, within a few yards of the young man's hiding-place; but, owing doubtless to the depth of the gloom at that particular spot, neither the travellers nor their steeds were visible. Though their figures brushed the small boughs by the wayside, it could not be seen that they intercepted, even for a moment, the faint gleam from the strip of bright sky athwart which they must have passed. Goodman Brown alternately crouched and stood on tiptoe, pulling aside the branches and thrusting forth his head as far as he durst without discerning so much as a shadow. It vexed him the more, because he could have sworn, were such a thing possible, that he recognized the voices of the minister and Deacon Gookin, jogging along quietly, as they were wont to do, when bound to some ordination or ecclesiastical council. While yet within hearing, one of the riders stopped to pluck a switch.
“Of the two, reverend sir,”said the voice like the deacon's,“I had rather miss an ordination dinner than to-night's meeting. They tell me that some of our community are to be here from Falmouth and beyond, and others from Connecticut and Rhode Island, besides several of the Indian powwows, who, after their fashion, know almost as much deviltry as the best of us. Moreover, there is a goodly young woman to be taken into communion.”
“Mighty well, Deacon Gookin!”replied the solemn old tones of the minister.“Spur up, or we shall be late. Nothing can be done, you know, until I get on the ground.”
The hoofs clattered again; and the voices, talking so strangely in the empty air, passed on through the forest, where no church had ever been gathered or solitary Christian prayed. Whither, then, could these holy men be journeying so deep into the heathen wilderness? Young Goodman Brown caught hold of a tree for support, being ready to sink down on the ground, faint and overburdened with the heavy sickness of his heart. He looked up to the sky, doubting whether there really was a heaven above him. Yet there was the blue arch, and the stars brightening in it.
“With heaven above and Faith below, I will yet stand firm against the devil!”cried Goodman Brown.
While he still gazed upward into the deep arch of the firmament and had lifted his hands to pray, a cloud, though no wind was stirring, hurried across the zenith and hid the brightening stars. The blue sky was still visible, except directly overhead, where this black mass of cloud was sweeping swiftly northward. Aloft in the air, as if from the depths of the cloud, came a confused and doubtful sound of voices. Once the listener fancied that he could distinguish the accents of towns-people of his own, men and women, both pious and ungodly, many of whom he had met at the communion table, and had seen others rioting at the tavern. The next moment, so indistinct were the sounds, he doubted whether he had heard aught but the murmur of the old forest, whispering without a wind. Then came a stronger swell of those familiar tones, heard daily in the sunshine at Salem village, but never until now from a cloud of night. There was one voice, of a young woman, uttering lamentations, yet with an uncertain sorrow, and entreating for some favor, which, perhaps, it would grieve her to obtain; and all the unseen multitude, both saints and sinners, seemed to encourage her onward.
“Faith!”shouted Goodman Brown, in a voice of agony and desperation; and the echoes of the forest mocked him, crying,“Faith! Faith!”as if bewildered wretches were seeking her all through the wilderness.
The cry of grief, rage, and terror was yet piercing the night, when the unhappy husband held his breath for a response. There was a scream, drowned immediately in a louder murmur of voices, fading into far-off laughter, as the dark cloud swept away, leaving the clear and silent sky above Goodman Brown. But something fluttered lightly down through the air and caught on the branch of a tree. The young man seized it, and beheld a pink ribbon.
“My Faith is gone!”cried he, after one stupefied moment.“There is no good on earth; and sin is but a name. Come, devil; for to thee is this world given.”
And, maddened with despair, so that he laughed loud and long, did Goodman Brown grasp his staff and set forth again, at such a rate that he seemed to fly along the forest path rather than to walk or run. The road grew wilder and drearier and more faintly traced, and vanished at length, leaving him in the heart of the dark wilderness, still rushing onward with the instinct that guides mortal man to evil. The whole forest was peopled with frightful sounds—the creaking of the trees, the howling of wild beasts, and the yell of Indians; while sometimes the wind tolled like a distant church bell, and sometimes gave a broad roar around the traveller, as if all Nature were laughing him to scorn. But he was himself the chief horror of the scene, and shrank not from its other horrors.
“Ha! ha! ha!”roared Goodman Brown when the wind laughed at him.“Let us hear which will laugh loudest. Think not to frighten me with your deviltry. Come witch, come wizard, come Indian powwow, come devil himself, and here comes Goodman Brown. You may as well fear him as he fear you.”
In truth, all through the haunted forest there could be nothing more frightful than the figure of Goodman Brown. On he flew among the black pines, brandishing his staff with frenzied gestures, now giving vent to an inspiration of horrid blasphemy, and now shouting forth such laughter as set all the echoes of the forest laughing like demons around him. The fiend in his own shape is less hideous than when he rages in the breast of man. Thus sped the demoniac on his course, until, quivering among the trees, he saw a red light before him, as when the felled trunks and branches of a clearing have been set on fire, and throw up their lurid blaze against the sky, at the hour of midnight. He paused, in a lull of the tempest that had driven him onward, and heard the swell of what seemed a hymn, rolling solemnly from a distance with the weight of many voices. He knew the tune; it was a familiar one in the choir of the village meeting-house. The verse died heavily away, and was lengthened by a chorus, not of human voices, but of all the sounds of the benighted wilderness pealing in awful harmony together. Goodman Brown cried out, and his cry was lost to his own ear by its unison with the cry of the desert.
In the interval of silence he stole forward until the light glared full upon his eyes. At one extremity of an open space, hemmed in by the dark wall of the forest, arose a rock, bearing some rude, natural resemblance either to an altar or a pulpit, and surrounded by four blazing pines, their tops aflame, their stems untouched, like candles at an evening meeting. The mass of foliage that had overgrown the summit of the rock was all on fire, blazing high into the night and fitfully illuminating the whole field. Each pendent twig and leafy festoon was in a blaze. As the red light arose and fell, a numerous congregation alternately shone forth, then disappeared in shadow, and again grew, as it were, out of the darkness, peopling the heart of the solitary woods at once.
“A grave and dark-clad company,”quoth Goodman Brown.
In truth they were such. Among them, quivering to and fro between gloom and splendor, appeared faces that would be seen next day at the council board of the province, and others which, Sabbath after Sabbath, looked devoutly heavenward, and benignantly over the crowded pews, from the holiest pulpits in the land. Some affirm that the lady of the governor was there. At least there were high dames well known to her, and wives of honored husbands, and widows, a great multitude, and ancient maidens, all of excellent repute, and fair young girls, who trembled lest their mothers should espy them. Either the sudden gleams of light flashing over the obscure field bedazzled Goodman Brown, or he recognized a score of the church members of Salem village famous for their especial sanctity. Good old Deacon Gookin had arrived, and waited at the skirts of that venerable saint, his revered pastor. But, irreverently consorting with these grave, reputable, and pious people, these elders of the church, these chaste dames and dewy virgins, there were men of dissolute lives and women of spotted fame, wretches given over to all mean and filthy vice, and suspected even of horrid crimes. It was strange to see that the good shrank not from the wicked, nor were the sinners abashed by the saints. Scattered also among their pale-faced enemies were the Indian priests, or powwows, who had often scared their native forest with more hideous incantations than any known to English witchcraft.
“But where is Faith?”thought Goodman Brown; and, as hope came into his heart, he trembled.
Another verse of the hymn arose, a slow and mournful strain, such as the pious love, but joined to words which expressed all that our nature can conceive of sin, and darkly hinted at far more. Unfathomable to mere mortals is the lore of fiends. Verse after verse was sung; and still the chorus of the desert swelled between like the deepest tone of a mighty organ; and with the final peal of that dreadful anthem there came a sound, as if the roaring wind, the rushing streams, the howling beasts, and every other voice of the unconcerted wilderness were mingling and according with the voice of guilty man in homage to the prince of all. The four blazing pines threw up a loftier flame, and obscurely discovered shapes and visages of horror on the smoke wreaths above the impious assembly. At the same moment the fire on the rock shot redly forth and formed a glowing arch above its base, where now appeared a figure. With reverence be it spoken, the figure bore no slight similitude, both in garb and manner, to some grave divine of the New England churches.
“Bring forth the converts!”cried a voice that echoed through the field and rolled into the forest.
At the word, Goodman Brown stepped forth from the shadow of the trees and approached the congregation, with whom he felt a loathful brotherhood by the sympathy of all that was wicked in his heart. He could have well-nigh sworn that the shape of his own dead father beckoned him to advance, looking downward from a smoke wreath, while a woman, with dim features of despair, threw out her hand to warn him back. Was it his mother? But he had no power to retreat one step, nor to resist, even in thought, when the minister and good old Deacon Gookin seized his arms and led him to the blazing rock. Thither came also the slender form of a veiled female, led between Goody Cloyse, that pious teacher of the catechism, and Martha Carrier, who had received the devil's promise to be queen of hell. A rampant hag was she. And there stood the proselytes beneath the canopy of fire.
“Welcome, my children,”said the dark figure,“to the communion of your race. Ye have found thus young your nature and your destiny. My children, look behind you!”
They turned; and flashing forth, as it were, in a sheet of flame, the fiend worshippers were seen; the smile of welcome gleamed darkly on every visage.
“There,”resumed the sable form,“are all whom ye have reverenced from youth. Ye deemed them holier than yourselves, and shrank from your own sin, contrasting it with their lives of righteousness and prayerful aspirations heavenward. Yet here are they all in my worshipping assembly. This night it shall be granted you to know their secret deeds: how hoary-bearded elders of the church have whispered wanton words to the young maids of their households; how many a woman, eager for widows' weeds, has given her husband a drink at bedtime and let him sleep his last sleep in her bosom; how beardless youths have made haste to inherit their fathers' wealth; and how fair damsels—blush not, sweet ones—have dug little graves in the garden, and bidden me, the sole guest, to an infant's funeral. By the sympathy of your human hearts for sin ye shall scent out all the places—whether in church, bed-chamber, street, field, or forest—where crime has been committed, and shall exult to behold the whole earth one stain of guilt, one mighty blood spot. Far more than this. It shall be yours to penetrate, in every bosom, the deep mystery of sin, the fountain of all wicked arts, and which inexhaustibly supplies more evil impulses than human power—than my power at its utmost—can make manifest in deeds. And now, my children, look upon each other.”
They did so; and, by the blaze of the hell-kindled torches, the wretched man beheld his Faith, and the wife her husband, trembling before that unhallowed altar.
“Lo, there ye stand, my children,”said the figure, in a deep and solemn tone, almost sad with its despairing awfulness, as if his once angelic nature could yet mourn for our miserable race.“Depending upon one another's hearts, ye had still hoped that virtue were not all a dream. Now are ye undeceived. Evil is the nature of mankind. Evil must be your only happiness. Welcome again, my children, to the communion of your race.”
“Welcome,”repeated the fiend worshippers, in one cry of despair and triumph.
And there they stood, the only pair, as it seemed, who were yet hesitating on the verge of wickedness in this dark world. A basin was hollowed, naturally, in the rock. Did it contain water, reddened by the lurid light? or was it blood? or, perchance, a liquid flame? Herein did the shape of evil dip his hand and prepare to lay the mark of baptism upon their foreheads, that they might be partakers of the mystery of sin, more conscious of the secret guilt of others, both in deed and thought, than they could now be of their own. The husband cast one look at his pale wife, and Faith at him. What polluted wretches would the next glance show them to each other, shuddering alike at what they disclosed and what they saw!
“Faith! Faith!”cried the husband,“look up to heaven, and resist the wicked one.”
Whether Faith obeyed he knew not. Hardly had he spoken when he found himself amid calm night and solitude, listening to a roar of the wind which died heavily away through the forest. He staggered against the rock, and felt it chill and damp; while a hanging twig, that had been all on fire, besprinkled his cheek with the coldest dew.
The next morning young Goodman Brown came slowly into the street of Salem village, staring around him like a bewildered man. The good old minister was taking a walk along the graveyard to get an appetite for breakfast and meditate his sermon, and bestowed a blessing, as he passed, on Goodman Brown. He shrank from the venerable saint as if to avoid an anathema. Old Deacon Gookin was at domestic worship, and the holy words of his prayer were heard through the open window.“What God doth the wizard pray to?”quoth Goodman Brown. Goody Cloyse, that excellent old Christian, stood in the early sunshine at her own lattice, catechizing a little girl who had brought her a pint of morning's milk. Goodman Brown snatched away the child as from the grasp of the fiend himself. Turning the corner by the meeting-house, he spied the head of Faith, with the pink ribbons, gazing anxiously forth, and bursting into such joy at sight of him that she skipped along the street and almost kissed her husband before the whole village. But Goodman Brown looked sternly and sadly into her face, and passed on without a greeting.
Had Goodman Brown fallen asleep in the forest and only dreamed a wild dream of a witch-meeting?
Be it so if you will; but, alas! it was a dream of evil omen for young Goodman Brown. A stern, a sad, a darkly meditative, a distrustful, if not a desperate man did he become from the night of that fearful dream. On the Sabbath day, when the congregation were singing a holy psalm, he could not listen because an anthem of sin rushed loudly upon his ear and drowned all the blessed strain. When the minister spoke from the pulpit with power and fervid eloquence, and, with his hand on the open Bible, of the sacred truths of our religion, and of saint-like lives and triumphant deaths, and of future bliss or misery unutterable, then did Goodman Brown turn pale, dreading lest the roof should thunder down upon the gray blasphemer and his hearers. Often, a waking suddenly at midnight, he shrank from the bosom of Faith; and at morning or eventide, when the family knelt down at prayer, he scowled and muttered to himself, and gazed sternly at his wife, and turned away. And when he had lived long, and was borne to his grave a hoary corpse, followed by Faith, an aged woman, and children and grandchildren, a goodly procession, besides neighbors not a few, they carved no hopeful verse upon his tombstone, for his dying hour was gloom.
小伙子古德曼·布朗在日落時分走出家門,來到薩勒姆村的街道上;他跨過門檻又回過頭來,同他年輕的妻子吻別。他的妻子費絲——這名字對她很合適——則把自己漂亮的腦袋探出門外,任風(fēng)拂弄她帽子上的粉紅緞帶,朝古德曼·布朗呼喊著。
“心肝寶貝,”她把嘴唇貼近他的耳朵,溫柔而又有點傷心地悄聲說,“求你等到明天太陽出來以后再去旅行,今夜里就睡在自己床上吧。孤單的女人總是受到那些夢和那些念頭的騷擾,有時候?qū)ψ约憾紩械胶ε?。今夜你就留下來陪著我吧,親愛的丈夫,一年里我就要這一夜。”
“我親愛的,我的費絲,”小伙子古德曼·布朗回答說,“一年里夜夜都行,可就是這一夜我不能和你待在一起。我這趟旅行——你是這么叫它的——一去一回必須在現(xiàn)在到明天日出之間完成。怎么,我心愛的、漂亮的妻子,難道你就懷疑起我來了?我們結(jié)婚才三個月呀!”
“那就愿上帝保佑你!”費絲說,粉紅緞帶在頭上飄揚,“但愿你回來的時候看到一切平安?!?/p>
“阿門!”古德曼·布朗高聲說道,“祈禱吧,親愛的費絲;天色一晚就上床,沒有什么會傷害你的?!?/p>
就這樣他們分了手。小伙子往前趕路,走到教友聚會所旁邊要拐彎的時候,他又回頭張望,只見費絲仍然憂傷地?fù)P著頭看著自己,盡管她的粉紅緞帶還在飄揚。
“可憐的小費絲!”他心想,因為他感到很內(nèi)疚,“我真是太可恥了,竟為了這趟差事扔下她不管!她還提到了做夢的事。我覺得她講那番話的時候滿面愁容,好像已有夢境警告過她我今夜是要去干什么事似的。不,不,她要是想到這一點準(zhǔn)會丟了命。呃,她真是個神圣的人間天使;過了這一夜,我要緊緊守在她的裙邊,跟著她上天堂?!?/p>
古德曼·布朗心里有了對未來的這種美好決定,便覺得自己滿有理由加快實現(xiàn)目前的邪惡目的。他走上了一條荒涼的道路,林間陰森的樹木黑沉沉地圍在四周,密匝匝地擠挨著,只容狹窄的小徑勉強蜿蜒穿過,隨即又在后面將小路封閉起來。整個氛圍無比凄清;在這片凄清之中還有一個特殊之處,那就是行路人根本不知道無數(shù)的樹干背后和頭頂上的粗大樹枝里面藏匿著什么人,所以他雖然孤單地邁著腳步,卻可能正從看不見的一大群人當(dāng)中穿行。
“在每一棵樹后面可能都藏著個惡魔似的印第安人呢,”古德曼·布朗自言自語道;他畏畏怯怯地朝身后張望,又接著說,“要是魔鬼就待在我身旁,那可不得了!”
他扭過頭來往后看,在經(jīng)過了道路的一個拐彎處的時候,又再掉過頭來朝前望,這時看見有一個穿著莊重得體的人,坐在一棵老樹下面。古德曼·布朗走近的時候,那個人站了起來,同他肩并肩地往前走。
“你來遲啦,古德曼·布朗,”那人說,“我經(jīng)過波士頓的時候,老南方教友聚會所的鐘正好敲響?,F(xiàn)在整整過了十五分鐘了?!?/p>
“費絲讓我耽誤了一會兒?!毙』镒踊卮鸬溃凰穆曇粲悬c兒發(fā)顫,這是因為他的同伴突然出現(xiàn)的緣故,雖然這并非完全出乎預(yù)料。
現(xiàn)在森林中暮色甚濃,而他們兩個人所行走的地方暮色更是濃重。只能勉強辨認(rèn)出第二位旅行者大約有五十歲年紀(jì),看來屬于與布朗相同的社會階層,模樣也和他很相像,不過也許神態(tài)比外貌更為相似。他們很可能被別人看作兩父子。盡管那個年長者與那個年輕人在衣著上同樣樸素,舉止也同樣純樸,但他卻具有一種難以描述的風(fēng)度,顯示出他見多識廣,假如出于事務(wù)的需要,即使是置身總督的宴席上或者威廉國王的宮廷里也不會局促不安。但他身邊唯一引人注目的卻是他那根手杖,它很像一條巨大的黑蟒蛇,形體雕鏤得十分古怪,看上去就像一條活蛇在扭曲蠕動。這當(dāng)然是受到暗淡光線的影響而形成的視覺假象。
“嗨,古德曼·布朗,”他的伙伴喊道,“才上路就走得這么慢吞吞的可不成。你要是這么快就走累了,那就拄著我的手杖好了!”
“朋友,”另一位說,慢吞吞的腳步干脆停了下來,“我信守約定到這兒來見了你,現(xiàn)在我倒是想回去了。說到你所了解的那件事,我還拿不定主意哩?!?/p>
“是嗎?”手握蛇杖的人答道,獨自笑了起來,“我們還是繼續(xù)走吧,一邊走一邊談。我要是說服不了你,你就轉(zhuǎn)身回去算了。好在我們在這林子里還走得沒多遠(yuǎn)。”
“太遠(yuǎn)啦!太遠(yuǎn)啦!”好小伙子叫道,不知不覺地又繼續(xù)走起來,“我的父親從來沒有為這種差事到樹林里來過,他的父親也沒有來過。從殉教者遇難的日子起,我們這一家子就全是老實人,全是好基督徒,難道我要成為布朗家第一個走上這條路的人,而且是和……”
“是和這樣的人同路,你想這樣說?!蹦觊L者點明了他沒說完的話,“說得好,古德曼·布朗!我對你的家庭,就跟對任何一個清教徒家庭同樣的熟悉,這可不是隨便說著玩的。我?guī)椭^你那個當(dāng)警察的爺爺,當(dāng)時他正在薩勒姆街頭狠命地鞭打一個貴格會女教徒;在菲利普王之戰(zhàn)的時候,你父親要放火燒一個印第安人的村子,是我遞給他一個松脂疙瘩,還是在我自己的壁爐里點燃的。他們是我的好朋友,兩個都是;我們曾經(jīng)好多次順著這條路高高興興地走去,半夜過后又快快活活地回來??丛谕麄兊那榉稚?,我也樂意同你交朋友?!?/p>
“要是真像你所說的,”古德曼·布朗回答說,“我真奇怪他們怎么從來沒有說起過這些事情。不過說實話,我也不覺得有什么好奇怪的,因為這種事情只要稍微有點謠傳,他們非被攆出新英格蘭不可。我們都是向上帝祈禱的人,一心要行善積德,絕不能容忍這等邪惡的事。”
“管他邪惡不邪惡,”握著彎曲手杖的行路人說,“在新英格蘭這地方我認(rèn)識許多人。許多教堂的執(zhí)事都和我一起飲過圣餐酒;許多市鎮(zhèn)的委員都選我做他們的主席;馬薩諸塞立法會里的大多數(shù)人是我的利益的堅定支持者??偠胶臀乙病贿^這些都是國家機密?!?/p>
“這是真的嗎?”古德曼·布朗叫道,驚異地盯著他那個不動聲色的同伴,“不管怎樣,我跟什么總督啦議會啦毫無關(guān)系;他們有他們自己的道理,像我這樣老實本分的莊稼漢可不能學(xué)他們的規(guī)矩。可是,如果我一直這樣跟著你走,叫我怎么去面對薩勒姆村的好老頭、我們那位牧師的眼光呢?啊,不管是安息日還是布道日,他的聲音都會讓我渾身發(fā)抖?!?/p>
到現(xiàn)在為止,年長者一直在嚴(yán)肅地聽他講,這時不禁迸發(fā)出一陣大笑,笑得渾身戰(zhàn)抖,連蛇形手杖也仿佛在應(yīng)和著扭動起來。
“哈!哈!哈!”他大笑了一陣又一陣,隨后才控制住自己,“唔,接著說,古德曼·布朗,接著說。不過,請別讓我笑死了?!?/p>
“好吧,那就馬上把事情了結(jié)吧?!惫诺侣げ祭收f,心中頗為惱怒,“我的妻子費絲,這件事會傷透她那顆可愛的小心兒的;我情愿讓自己傷心?!?/p>
“嗯,如果是這么回事,”對方回答道,“你就回去好了,古德曼·布朗。哪怕有二十個像我們前面那個一瘸一拐的老太婆,我也不愿讓費絲受到任何傷害。”
他一邊說,一邊用手杖指著路上行走的一個女人,古德曼·布朗認(rèn)出那是一位非常虔誠的、被人們奉為楷模的太太。在他年輕時,她就教他教義問答,直到現(xiàn)在她還同牧師和古金執(zhí)事一起做自己的道德與精神顧問。
“奇怪,真是奇怪,古蒂·克洛伊斯會在天黑時分跑到野地里這么遠(yuǎn)的地方來?!彼f,“不過,朋友,請你準(zhǔn)許我在樹林里走條近道,把這位女基督徒甩到后面去。她跟你素不相識,說不定會問我是跟誰一道,要到哪里去哩?!?/p>
“行啊,”他的旅伴說,“你從樹林里走,我還是順著這條路走?!?/p>
于是小伙子折轉(zhuǎn)了方向,不過還是留神觀看著他的同伴,只見他順著道路悄悄往前走,一直走到離那老太婆只隔一根手杖的距離。她卻使勁趕自己的路,那飛快的速度對于年紀(jì)這么大的人來說真是不同尋常,一邊走還一邊咕噥著些含糊不清的話——不用說是在祈禱了。老頭伸出他的手杖,用那像蛇尾似的末端去碰了碰她滿是皺紋的脖子。
“魔鬼!”虔誠的老太婆尖叫起來。
“看來古蒂·克洛伊斯還認(rèn)得她的老朋友啰?”老頭同她打了個照面,拄著他那彎曲的手杖說道。
“啊,是嗎,真的是閣下嗎?”好老太太叫道,“嗬,的確是您,活像我的老朋友古德曼·布朗,也就是如今那個傻小子的爺爺。不過——閣下您相信不相信?——我的那把長笤帚莫名其妙地不見了,我疑心是那個該上絞架的巫婆古蒂·戈里偷走的,當(dāng)時我全身正抹滿了野芹菜、委陵菜和烏頭草的汁液——”
“一定還混合了細(xì)面粉和新生嬰兒的脂油。”模樣像古德曼·布朗的人說。
“啊,閣下您也知道這個配方。”老太婆叫道,一邊高聲地咯咯笑起來,“這正像我說的,聚會的事全都準(zhǔn)備停當(dāng)了,卻沒有馬兒可騎,我決定自己走著去。他們告訴我說,今夜要介紹一個挺不錯的小伙子入會。不過閣下您樂意伸出胳膊來扶扶我嗎?這樣我們只要一眨眼工夫就能趕到?!?/p>
“那可不行?!彼呐笥汛鸬?,“我不會用胳膊來扶你的,古蒂·克洛伊斯;不過我這根手杖倒是可以借給你,只要你愿意?!?/p>
他說著就把手杖扔到了她的腳下,就在那兒,那根手杖似乎突然間有了生命,因為它就是主人曾經(jīng)借給埃及魔法師的那些手杖中的一根。不過,這件事古德曼·布朗不可能看得很清楚。他先是吃驚地往上翻了翻眼睛,然后再朝地面看,這時已既看不見古蒂·克洛伊斯,也看不見蛇形手杖了,只有他的那個旅伴獨自一人在等著他,神態(tài)平靜得仿佛什么事也沒有發(fā)生過一樣。
“那個老太婆教過我基督教教義?!毙』镒诱f;在這句簡單的評論中蘊含著無窮的意味。
他們繼續(xù)朝前走,同時年長者不斷告誡著他的年輕伙伴加快步伐和走直道路,話說得那樣妥帖,仿佛并非從他口中講出,而是從聽者的內(nèi)心自然涌出。就在朝前走著的時候,他折下一根楓樹枝來做拐杖,動手剝?nèi)ド厦婺切е鴿皲蹁跻孤兜男≈ρ?。他的手指剛一接觸它們,那些枝丫就奇怪地枯萎了,干得就像在陽光下暴曬了一個星期似的。兩個人就這樣邁步快速前行,一直走到路邊一個黑黝黝的大坑旁,古德曼·布朗突然坐到一截樹樁上,再也不肯往前走了。
“朋友,”他執(zhí)拗地說,“我拿定主意了。我不愿為了這差事再往前走一步。就算我以為那個邪惡的老太婆正在上天堂,而她其實是要去見魔鬼,那又有什么關(guān)系:我有什么理由要撇下我心愛的費絲跟她走呢?”
“你慢慢就會想通這件事的?!彼幕锇殒?zhèn)靜自若地說道,“就坐在這兒歇一歇吧;等到你想走的時候,我的手杖會助你一臂之力的?!?/p>
他不再多說什么,只把楓樹枝手杖扔給布朗,一轉(zhuǎn)眼就不見了,仿佛消融進了越來越深的暗影之中。小伙子在路邊坐著歇了一會兒,對自己頗為贊賞,心想自己在碰見牧師清晨散步的時候良心將多么清白,也用不著去躲避善良的老執(zhí)事古金的目光了。今夜本來會過得很邪惡的,現(xiàn)在能安安穩(wěn)穩(wěn)睡一覺,躺在費絲的懷抱里,那是多么純潔,多么甜蜜?。」诺侣げ祭收谵D(zhuǎn)著這些高高興興、自鳴得意的念頭時,卻聽見路上傳來一陣馬蹄聲。他認(rèn)為自己還是躲進樹林里藏身為好,那個驅(qū)使他來到這里的罪惡目的仍然使他感到內(nèi)疚,盡管他現(xiàn)在已經(jīng)幸運地迷途知返了。
馬蹄聲和騎馬人的說話聲越來越近了,聽聲音是兩位莊重的老人,一邊逼近一邊在從容地交談。這片混雜的聲音似乎是沿著道路傳過來的,離小伙子的藏身處不過幾碼遠(yuǎn)。但無疑是因為那個地方夜影深濃,行路人和他們的馬匹都無法看清楚。盡管他們的身體擦著路旁的小樹枝,但就在他們肯定經(jīng)過的地方,卻不見他們有片刻工夫擋住那一線明亮夜空投下的微弱亮光。古德曼·布朗時而蹲伏,時而踮起腳尖站起,他撥開樹枝,壯起膽子把腦袋盡量往外伸,可仍然連一點影子也看不到。這使他心里更加惱火,因為他敢發(fā)誓,這種事要是真可能發(fā)生的話,那他剛才聽到的正是牧師與古金執(zhí)事的聲音,他們安靜地騎著馬緩步前行,就跟他們通常去參加什么授圣職儀式或者教會會議時一樣。這時還聽得見騎馬人的聲音,其中一個停下來折了根樹枝。
“如果二者擇一,尊敬的牧師先生,”那個像執(zhí)事的聲音說道,“我寧愿錯過授圣職的宴席,也不愿錯過今晚的聚會。他們告訴我,有些會友要從法爾茅斯或者更遠(yuǎn)的地方趕了來,另外有些還是從康涅狄格和羅得島趕來的。此外還有幾個印第安巫師,他們都有自己的一套法術(shù),跟我們當(dāng)中最出色的幾乎不相上下。而且,還有一個漂亮的年輕女人要來入會哩?!?/p>
“好極啦,古金執(zhí)事!”牧師莊嚴(yán)而蒼老的聲音回答道,“讓馬跑起來吧,不然就要遲到了。你知道,我不到場,就什么也做不了?!?/p>
馬蹄聲又響了起來;兩個人交談的聲音在一片虛空中奇怪地回蕩,穿過樹林一路響過去,而那里從來就沒有人們聚會的教堂,也沒有任何孤獨的教徒在那里做過禱告。那么,兩位圣職人士旅行到這片異教徒的荒野深處到底是要去何處呢?小伙子古德曼·布朗腳一軟幾乎就要倒在地上,只覺得頭發(fā)暈,心里沉甸甸的,便抱緊了一棵樹來支撐住身子。他抬頭望著天空,懷疑頭頂上是否真的有天國。然而只見一片藍(lán)色的天穹,繁星正在閃閃發(fā)光。
“上有天國,下有費絲,我仍然要堅決與魔鬼對抗!”古德曼·布朗喊叫道。
他仰頭凝視著那深邃的蒼穹,舉起雙手來祈禱,這時雖然并沒有刮風(fēng),卻有一團烏云急速地掠過天頂,遮住了閃亮的群星。依然能看見一片藍(lán)天,除了頭頂正上方那厚厚一團烏云在迅速地朝北方飛去。在空中,仿佛來自那團烏云的深處,傳來了一片亂哄哄的可疑的人聲。有那么一陣子,他覺得自己辨別出了鎮(zhèn)子里鄉(xiāng)鄰們的聲音,有男人有女人,既有虔誠的也有不敬神的,其中許多人他曾在圣餐桌上會過面,也見過另一些人在酒店里濫飲狂鬧。轉(zhuǎn)瞬之間,那些聲音又變得模糊不清了,他猜想剛才聽到的也許只是古老的森林在無風(fēng)之夜颯颯低語而已。接下來,那片熟悉的話語聲又更加響亮地涌起,雖說這種聲音白天在薩勒姆村里隨時都能聽得到,但從來沒像現(xiàn)在這樣從夜空的云團里傳出來。其中還有一個年輕女人的聲音在哀哀哭泣,哭聲中含有一種莫名的傷悲,像在乞求某種恩惠,似乎為了獲得它而傷心欲絕。而周圍所有那些無影無形的人,不管是圣人還是罪人,好像都在慫恿她繼續(xù)哀哭。
“費絲!”古德曼·布朗叫起來,聲音里飽含著痛苦和絕望;樹林發(fā)出的回聲也嘲弄地模仿著他高喊道:“費絲!費絲!”仿佛是些神志迷亂的可憐蟲正在荒野里四處尋找她。
這飽含悲傷、憤怒和恐懼的喊聲穿透了夜空,而那個不幸的丈夫則屏息等待著回答。忽然傳來了一聲尖叫,隨即又被一陣更響亮的含糊人聲所淹沒,漸漸化為遠(yuǎn)處的一聲大笑,而那團烏云也迅速地飛走了,古德曼·布朗的頭頂上又露出了明凈寂寥的天穹。不過有什么東西輕輕地從空中飄落下來,掛在了一株樹的枝丫上。小伙子一把抓住它,發(fā)現(xiàn)是一根粉紅色的緞帶。
“我的費絲走啦!”他呆滯了片刻之后大叫起來,“人世根本就沒有善!罪孽不過是個空名。來吧,魔鬼;因為這個世界全歸你啦。”
古德曼·布朗因絕望而發(fā)狂,便高聲地、久久地大笑起來,然后他抓起手杖繼續(xù)往前走,步伐是那么快,不像走也不像跑,簡直像是在順著林間小路飛翔。道路變得越來越荒蕪和凄涼,越來越難辨路徑,最后終于消失了,把他撇在一片黑暗荒林的中央,但他仍然憑著一股將凡人引向邪惡的本能埋頭往前沖。整個樹林里充滿了可怕的聲響——樹木在吱吱嘎嘎,野獸在狂呼怒嚎,印第安人在高聲吼叫;風(fēng)聲有時候像遠(yuǎn)處教堂的鐘聲在鳴響,有時候又在這位行路人的四周厲聲咆哮,仿佛整個大自然都在輕蔑地嘲笑著他??墒撬约壕褪沁@個場面中最恐怖的角色,根本不會在其他恐怖事物面前退縮。
“哈!哈!哈!”古德曼·布朗在風(fēng)聲嘲笑他的時候大聲吼叫著,“讓我們聽聽誰笑得最響吧!別想用你的妖術(shù)嚇退我!來吧,巫婆;來吧,巫士;來吧,印第安巫師;你親自來吧,魔鬼,古德曼·布朗就在這里。你們還是像他怕你們一樣地怕他吧?!?/p>
事實上,在這個鬼影幢幢的樹林里,沒有什么比古德曼·布朗的模樣更可怕的了。他在黑黢黢的松林里飛奔著,狂亂地?fù)]舞著他的手杖,時而口中憤激地噴涌出可怕的褻瀆神圣的話語,時而放聲大笑,使整個樹林里的回聲也像是四圍的魔鬼在大笑著應(yīng)和他。當(dāng)他以一個獸性大發(fā)的人逞其狂怒的時候,真比他化身為魔鬼還要可怕。這個惡魔就這樣一路飛奔,直到看見面前有一片紅光在樹林間閃動,就像是一片空地上被砍伐下的樹干和樹條被點著了火,血紅的火光在午夜時分映亮了天穹。他停下了腳步,讓一直驅(qū)動著自己的內(nèi)心風(fēng)暴平息下去,這時只聽見仿佛有一陣唱贊美詩的歌聲,許多人的聲音正莊嚴(yán)地從遠(yuǎn)處起伏而來。他知道這支曲調(diào),那是村里教徒聚會所的唱詩班常唱的一首他很熟悉的曲子。歌聲沉重地漸漸低落,拖長為一片合唱,但那不像是人的聲音,卻像是幽昧荒野中各種聲音可怕地融合而成的一片轟隆聲。古德曼·布朗叫喊起來;但他聽不見自己的聲音,他的叫喊聲與荒野的叫喊聲融為一體了。
在靜默的間隙中,他悄悄前行,直到那片炫目的火光整個地映入眼簾。只見像黑森森一道墻似的樹林包圍著一片開闊的空地,空地的一頭矗立著一塊巨石,其粗糙而原始的模樣像是一座祭壇或布道臺。有四棵燃燒著的松樹環(huán)抱著它,樹冠上烈焰熊熊,但樹干還沒有燒著,就像是在黃昏集會時點燃的四根蠟燭。長在巨石頂端的厚實的葉叢全都著了火,光焰高高地沖向夜空,時明時暗地將整片空地照得通明。每一根懸吊著的細(xì)枝和垂掛著的葉穗都燃起了火焰。隨著紅光的明暗變化,聚集一處的許多教徒時而被照得纖毫畢現(xiàn),時而消失在暗影中,接著又仿佛從黑影中冒出來,頃刻間將荒涼的樹林?jǐn)D得密不透風(fēng)。
“一群臉色陰沉的穿黑衣的人?!惫诺侣げ祭蔬@樣說。
他們的確是這樣。在這些人當(dāng)中,忽明忽暗地顯現(xiàn)出一些面孔,都是第二天將在地方議會上露面的人物,另一些人則在每個安息日都會站在當(dāng)?shù)厥向\地仰望天國,慈祥地俯視著擁擠的會眾。有人斷言說總督夫人也在場。至少到場的人中有一些與她很熟悉的貴婦人、社會名流的太太、名聲卓著的寡婦和許多老處女,此外還有些漂亮的年輕姑娘,她們戰(zhàn)戰(zhàn)兢兢地生怕會被她們的母親認(rèn)出來?;蛟S是照耀在昏暗荒野上的火光突然閃亮使得古德曼·布朗的眼花了,否則他的確認(rèn)出了二十來個薩勒姆村教堂中因特別圣潔而著稱的教徒。虔誠的老執(zhí)事古金業(yè)已到達(dá),正在伺候那位德高望重的圣人、他的可敬的牧師下馬。然而,陪伴著這些莊重、可敬和虔誠人士以及這些教會長者、貞潔貴婦和純潔少女的,卻是些行為放蕩的男人和名聲敗壞的女人,都是些沉溺于卑污惡習(xí),甚至可能犯過可怕罪行的家伙??吹竭@里好人并不規(guī)勸壞人,罪人在圣人面前也毫不羞愧,真是太奇怪了。還有些印第安祭司或巫師混雜在他們的白皮膚仇敵中間,他們常常用那些比任何已知的英格蘭巫術(shù)更加可怕的魔咒,把自己聚居的森林弄得驚恐不安。
“可是費絲在哪兒呢?”古德曼·布朗思忖著;希望剛一浮現(xiàn)在心頭,他就戰(zhàn)栗起來。
另一首贊美詩又響起,是一支舒緩而哀傷的曲調(diào),就像在歌頌虔誠的愛,但所配的歌詞表達(dá)的卻是人類天性所能想象出的一切罪行,并且陰郁地暗示著更多的罪惡。魔鬼的箴言對凡人來說真是深不可測啊。頌歌一首接著一首地唱下去;荒野的合唱聲也強有力地加入進來,就像一架巨大的風(fēng)琴奏出低沉的音調(diào)。伴隨著這可怕贊歌的最后一聲轟響,又傳來一種聲音,仿佛是狂風(fēng)怒吼、急流奔騰、猛獸號叫,于是雜然不一的荒野中各種其他一切聲響,都混合交融到那個向萬物之主頂禮膜拜的有罪者的聲音之中。那四棵燃燒的松樹猛地騰起一股更高的烈焰,在這邪惡集會上空的繚繞煙霧之上,朦朧可見許多可怕的身影與面孔。與此同時,巨石上的火焰也紅光迸射,并在它的下部形成一道明亮的拱弧,拱弧中此刻出現(xiàn)了一個人。這個人無論是穿著還是舉止,倘若要恭敬地加以評論,都與新英格蘭教堂的某些莊重的牧師頗為相似。
“將皈依者帶上來!”一個聲音在原野間回蕩,然后隆隆震響傳進森林中。
古德曼·布朗聽到這句話便從樹林的陰影里走出來,靠近那些會眾,因為他自己的內(nèi)心惡念與這些人產(chǎn)生了共鳴,所以他感到自己對他們懷有一種可憎惡的同胞情誼。他幾乎敢于發(fā)誓,他那已故父親的身影正從一圈煙霧中俯瞰著他,點頭示意他上前去,而一個依稀帶著絕望表情的女人又伸出手來警告他朝后退。那是他的母親嗎?然而,牧師和虔誠的老執(zhí)事古金抓住了他的雙臂,要把他拉到燃燒著的巨石跟前去,他根本沒有力氣往后退一步,也無法抗拒,甚至連抗拒的念頭也不敢有。從那邊還過來一個面蒙紗巾的苗條身影,被古蒂·克洛伊斯和瑪莎·嘉莉一左一右地引導(dǎo)著。前者就是那個教他教義問答的虔誠導(dǎo)師,后者則得到了魔鬼的許諾要做地獄王后,是個張狂的女巫。在火焰燃成的穹隆之下,站著許多改宗叛教者。
“歡迎,我的孩子們,”那個黑黢黢的人影說,“歡迎加入自己族類的聚會。你們這么年輕就明白了你們的天性和你們的命運。我的孩子們,看看背后!”
大家回頭去看;仿佛有一道光焰倏忽閃現(xiàn),照亮了魔鬼崇拜者們的面目;在每張臉上都陰森森地閃耀著歡迎的笑容。
“那兒,”黑暗的人影繼續(xù)說道,“全是你們從青年時代就很尊崇的人。你們以為他們比自己更圣潔,一旦拿自己的罪孽來對照他們正派的生活和對天國的虔誠向往,你們就心懷畏懼。然而他們?nèi)荚谶@里來參加我的膜拜會了。我今夜將讓你們了解到他們隱秘的行為:那些胡須花白的教會長老們?nèi)绾螌抑械哪贻p女仆悄聲講著淫蕩的話語;有多少女人渴盼著穿上寡婦的喪服,怎樣在臨睡前給丈夫喝一杯毒酒,讓他在自己的懷抱中睡上最后一覺;頷毛未長的年輕人怎樣急于繼承父親的財產(chǎn);如花似玉的閨女們——別臉紅,可愛的姑娘們——怎樣在花園里挖些小墳坑,請我這唯一的賓客去參加私生嬰兒的葬禮。通過你們?nèi)祟愋撵`中對罪惡的同情,你們將嗅出所有的地方——無論是教堂、臥室、街道、田野還是森林——都發(fā)生過罪行,你們將狂喜地看到整個大地不過是一塊罪惡的污漬,是一片巨大的血跡。還遠(yuǎn)不止這些。你們將看穿每個人心中深藏著的罪惡之謎,那一切邪惡伎倆的源泉,它永不衰竭地刺激起邪惡的沖動,比人的力量——比我最大的力量——所能實際顯示的還要多得多。現(xiàn)在,我的孩子們,你們彼此看一看吧!”
大家互相觀看;借助于地獄之火點燃的火炬的光焰,那可憐的人看見了他的費絲,妻子也看見了丈夫,都在那褻瀆神圣的祭壇前戰(zhàn)栗著。
“瞧,你們都站在這里,我的孩子們。”那個人影說道,語調(diào)深沉而莊重,幾乎因絕望的恐懼而顯得憂傷,仿佛他那曾經(jīng)具有的天使本性還能夠為我們可憐的人類感到悲哀似的?!澳銈冃刨嚤舜说牧夹模匀幌M赖虏⒎侨菈艋谩,F(xiàn)在你們算是醒悟了。邪惡是人類的天性。邪惡應(yīng)該成為你們唯一的歡樂。再次歡迎你們,我的孩子們,歡迎你們來參加自己族類的聚會?!?/p>
“歡迎?!蹦Ч淼某绨菡邆冎貜?fù)道,齊聲發(fā)出絕望而又狂喜的吶喊。
他倆佇立在那里,似乎唯有這一對男女還在這個黑暗世界的邪惡邊緣上躊躇不前。巨石上有一個天然形成的凹處,里面裝著的是血赤色火光映紅了的水嗎?是鮮血嗎?或者是液體的火焰呢?邪惡的化身在里面浸濕他的手,準(zhǔn)備在他們的額頭上畫下受洗的印記,這樣他們便能成為罪惡秘密的分享者,更能意識到別人在行為和思想上的隱秘罪孽,勝于對自己罪孽的了解。丈夫看了看他那蒼白的妻子,費絲也看了看丈夫。如果再看一眼,他們就會發(fā)現(xiàn)彼此都是何等卑污的可憐蟲,都會同樣對自己所暴露的罪惡和自己所發(fā)現(xiàn)的罪惡不寒而栗!
“費絲!費絲!”丈夫喊道,“仰望天堂,抵抗邪惡!”
費絲是否聽從了他的話,他并不知道。當(dāng)話剛出口,他就發(fā)現(xiàn)自己置身于靜夜與孤寂之中,只聽得咆哮的風(fēng)聲沉悶地穿過森林,漸漸消失了。他的腳絆在巖石上,覺得它又涼又潮;一束懸垂的枝條,曾經(jīng)整個燃成了一團火,現(xiàn)在卻在他的臉頰上灑落冰冷的露水。
第二天早上,小伙子古德曼·布朗慢慢走進薩勒姆村的街道,滿心迷惑地四處打量著。仁慈的老牧師正沿著墓地散步,以便增進早餐的胃口和思考他的布道詞,在走過古德曼·布朗身邊時還向他祝福。他在這位可敬的圣人面前感到畏縮,就像要避開一個該詛咒的惡棍。老邁的古金執(zhí)事正在家中做禮拜,通過打開的窗戶能聽見他那神圣的祈禱詞。“這個巫師禱拜的是什么神靈?。俊辈祭拾底韵氲?。古蒂·克洛伊斯,那個德行卓著的老基督徒,站在她的花格窗前曬著清晨的陽光,正向給她送來一品脫牛奶的小姑娘講解著教義。古德曼·布朗猛地一把拉開那個小女孩,就像從魔鬼手中救出她來。他轉(zhuǎn)過聚會所旁的拐角,發(fā)現(xiàn)費絲正伸出系著粉紅緞帶的腦袋焦急地張望著,一見他就那樣欣喜若狂地蹦跳過來,幾乎要當(dāng)著全村人的面親吻她的丈夫。然而古德曼·布朗嚴(yán)厲而憂傷地瞪了她一眼,招呼也不打就徑直走了過去。
古德曼·布朗只不過是在樹林里睡了一覺,做了一個妖巫聚會的怪夢嗎?
就算是這樣吧,如果你這么認(rèn)為;不過,唉!對于小伙子古德曼·布朗來說,這個夢卻是不祥之兆。從那一夜做過那個可怕的夢之后,他即使沒有成為一個萬念俱灰的人,也變成了一個冷峻、憂傷、郁郁沉思、遇事多疑的人了。每當(dāng)安息日,會眾們都在頌唱圣詩,他卻充耳不聞,因為罪惡的贊歌在大聲沖擊著他的耳膜,淹沒了一切祝福的曲調(diào)。牧師站在布道壇上演說,雄辯滔滔,手撫打開的《圣經(jīng)》,宣講著我們宗教的神圣真理、圣徒般的生活和榮耀的死亡、未來的福祉或者難以形容的苦難,這時候古德曼·布朗就會變得面色蒼白,生怕屋頂會轟然垮塌在這個白發(fā)蒼蒼的瀆神者和他的聽眾頭上。他常常在半夜突然驚醒,脫離費絲的懷抱;清晨或傍晚,當(dāng)全家跪下來祈禱的時候,他會皺眉蹙額,喃喃自語,嚴(yán)厲地瞪視他的妻子,然后轉(zhuǎn)身走開。在他活了很久之后,變成了一具滿頭白發(fā)的死尸,被人們抬進墓地,后面跟著老嫗費絲,子子孫孫和許多鄰居排成壯觀的隊列。但人們沒有在他的墓碑上刻寫任何充滿希望的詩句,因為他臨死都是陰郁不樂的。
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