书城小说霍桑经典短篇小说(英文原版)
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第89章 The Maypole of Merry Mount(3)

Even that dim light is now withdrawn, relinquishing thewhole domain of Merry Mount to the evening gloomwhich has rushed so instantaneously from the blacksurrounding woods. But some of these black shadows haverushed forth in human shape.

Yes, with the setting sun the last day of mirth hadpassed from Merry Mount. The ring of gay masquers wasdisordered and broken; the stag lowered his antlers indismay; the wolf grew weaker than a lamb; the bells ofthe morrice-dancers tinkled with tremulous affright. ThePuritans had played a characteristic part in the Maypolemummeries. Their darksome figures were intermixedwith the wild shapes of their foes, and made the scene apicture of the moment when waking thoughts start upamid the scattered fantasies of a dream. The leader of thehostile party stood in the centre of the circle, while therout of monsters cowered around him like evil spirits inthe presence of a dread magician. No fantastic foolerycould look him in the face. So stern was the energy of hisaspect that the whole man, visage, frame and soul, seemedwrought of iron gifted with life and thought, yet all of onesubstance with his headpiece and breastplate. It was thePuritan of Puritans: it was Endicott himself.

“Stand off, priest of Baal!” said he, with a grim frown andlaying no reverent hand upon the surplice. “I know thee,Blackstone! Thou art the man who couldst not abide therule even of thine own corrupted Church, and hast comehither to preach iniquity and to give example of it in thylife. But now shall it be seen that the Lord hath sanctifiedthis wilderness for his peculiar people. Woe unto themthat would defile it! And first for this flower-deckedabomination, the altar of thy worship!”

And with his keen sword Endicott assaulted the hallowedMaypole. Nor long did it resist his arm. It groaned witha dismal sound, it showered leaves and rosebuds uponthe remorseless enthusiast, and finally, with all its greenboughs and ribbons and flowers, symbolic of departedpleasures, down fell the banner-staff of Merry Mount. Asit sank, tradition says, the evening sky grew darker and thewoods threw forth a more sombre shadow.

“There!” cried Endicott, looking triumphantly on hiswork; “there lies the only Maypole in New England. Thethought is strong within me that by its fall is shadowedforth the fate of light and idle mirthmakers amongst usand our posterity. Amen, saith John Endicott!”

“Amen!” echoed his followers.

But the votaries of the Maypole gave one groan fortheir idol. At the sound the Puritan leader glanced at thecrew of Comus, each a figure of broad mirth, yet at thismoment strangely expressive of sorrow and dismay.

“Valiant captain,” quoth Peter Palfrey, the ancient of theband, “what order shall be taken with the prisoners?”

“I thought not to repent me of cutting down a Maypole,”

replied Endicott, “yet now I could find in my heart to plantit again and give each of these bestial pagans one otherdance round their idol. It would have served rarely for awhipping-post.”

“But there are pine trees enow,” suggested the lieutenant.

“True, good ancient,” said the leader. “Wherefore bindthe heathen crew and bestow on them a small matter ofstripes apiece as earnest of our future justice. Set someof the rogues in the stocks to rest themselves so soon asProvidence shall bring us to one of our own well-orderedsettlements where such accommodations may be found.

Further penalties, such as branding and cropping of ears,shall be thought of hereafter.”

“How many stripes for the priest?” inquired AncientPalfrey.

“None as yet,” answered Endicott, bending his ironfrown upon the culprit. “It must be for the Great andGeneral Court to determine whether stripes and longimprisonment, and other grievous penalty, may atonefor his transgressions. Let him look to himself. For suchas violate our civil order it may be permitted us to showmercy, but woe to the wretch that troubleth our religion!”

“And this dancing bear?” resumed the officer. “Must heshare the stripes of his fellows?”