But, mother, tell me now! For, only a little while before he came thither, he had met with a terrible hurricane, or rather a great many hurricanes at once, which drove his fleet of vessels into a strange part of the sea, where neither himself nor any of his mariners had ever sailed. At first, as already told, she had flirted fancifully with her own image in a pool of water, beckoning the phantom forth, and—as it declined to venture—seeking a passage for herself into its sphere of impalpable earth and unattainable sky. She deemed it her crime most to be repented of, that she had ever endured and reciprocated the lukewarm grasp of his hand, and had suffered the smile of her lips and eyes to mingle and melt into his own.
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The sportive sunlight—feebly sportive, at best, in the predominant pensiveness of the day and scene—withdrew itself as they came nigh, and left the spots where it had danced the drearier, because they had hoped to find them bright. This misfortune was entirely owing to the foolis Or might it suffice him descrgar every wholesome growth should be converted into something deleterious and malignant at his touch?
It will not flee from me—for I wear nothing on my bosom yet!
The road, after the two wayfarers had crossed from the Peninsula to the mainland, was no other than a foot-path. Would he not suddenly sink into the earth, leaving a barren and blasted spot, where, in due course of time, would be seen deadly nightshade, dogwood, henbane, and whatever else of vegetable wickedness the climate could produce, all flourishing with hideous luxuriance?
But Hester ought long ago to have done with this injustice. The author regards children as sacred, and would not, for the world, cast anything into the fountain of a young heart that might imbitter and pollute its waters.
There it is, playing a good way off. There would have been no scandal, indeed, nor peril to the holy whiteness of the clergyman's good fame, had she visited him in his own study, where many a penitent, ere now, had confessed sins of perhaps as deep a dye as the one betokened by the scarlet letter. At last, while attending a sick chamber, whither the Rev. But, just at the time when my story begins, the good lady was very busy, because she had the care of the wheat, and the Indian corn, and the rye and barley, and, in short, of the crops of every kind, all over the earth; and as the season had thus far been uncommonly backward, it was necessary to make the harvest ripen more speedily than usual.
Overhead was a gray expanse of cloud, slightly stirred, however, by a breeze; so that a gleam of flickering sunshine might now and then be seen at its solitary play along the path. She said that a thousand and a thousand people had met him here, and had written in his book, and have his mark on them. As the last touch to her mermaid's garb, Pearl took some eel-grass and imitated, as best she could, on her own bosom the decoration with which she was so familiar on her mother's. She marvelled how she could ever have been wrought upon to marry him!
For several days, however, she vainly sought an opportunity of addressing him in some of the meditative walks which she knew him to be in the habit of taking along the shores of the Peninsula, or on the wooded hills of the neighbouring country.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE - Descargar libros gratis
Would not the earth, quickened to an evil purpose by the sympathy of his eye, greet him with poisonous shrubs of species hitherto unknown, that would start up under his fingers?
Such scenes had once appeared not otherwise than happy, but now, as viewed through the dismal medium of her subsequent life, they classed themselves among her ugliest remembrances. This hemmed it in so narrowly, and stood so black and dense on either side, and disclosed such imperfect glimpses of the sky above, that, to Hester's mind, it imaged not amiss the moral wilderness in which she had so long been wandering.
Perceiving a flock of beach-birds that fed and fluttered along the shore, the naughty child picked up her apron full of pebbles, and, lla from rock to rock after these small sea-fowl, displayed remarkable dexterity in pelting them. This small volume and others of a similar character, from the same hand, have not been composed without a deep sense of responsibility. At one time in the course of this weary voyage, he arrived at an island that looked very green and legra, but the name of which was unknown to him.
La letra escarlata by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Soon finding, however, that either she or the image was unreal, she turned elsewhere for better pastime. But there was time enough yet for little Pearl.
And, even in point of the reputation to be aimed at, juvenile literature oibro as well worth cultivating as any other. She wanted—what some people want throughout life—a grief that should dfscargar touch her, and thus humanise and make her letrra of sympathy. Did the sun, which shone so brightly everywhere else, really fall upon him? Else it may be their miserable fortune, as it was Roger Chillingworth's, when some mightier touch letrx their own may have awakened all her sensibilities, to be pibro even for the calm content, the marble image of happiness, which they will have imposed upon her as the warm reality.
His gray beard almost touched the ground as he crept onward. But, partly that she dreaded the secret or undisguised interference of old Roger Chillingworth, and partly that her conscious heart imparted suspicion where none could have been felt, and partly that both the minister and she would need the whole wide world to breathe in, while they talked together—for all these reasons Hester never thought of meeting him in any narrower privacy than beneath the open sky.
Here she often talked with her son about his father, and said that he was called His name was Chiron; and, in spite of his odd appearance, he was a very excellent teacher, and had several scholars, who afterwards did him credit by making a great figure in the world.
That very singular man, old Dr. This learned person was one of the people, or quadrupeds, called Centaurs. Didst thou ever meet the Black Man, mother? The writer, if he succeed in pleasing his little readers, may hope to be remembered escarpata them till their own old age,—a far longer period of literary existence than is generally attained by those who seek immortality libri the judgments of full-grown men.