The Scarlet Letter (Oxford Bookworms Library: Stage 4)

T H E S C A R L E TL E T T E R The woman who wearsthe scarletleiter on her bosomis a woman without friends, a woman who has sinned' peopleturn their faces Fingerspoint at her, respectable away from her, the priestsspeakhard words about her' Shamefollows in her footsteps,night and day. this is New Englandin the 1600s.The Puritans Because havecrossedthe seato the shoresof America,building their new towns' bringing their religion and their customswith them from the old country. And in the early the church yearsof Boston,in the stateof Massachusetts, is strong- and unforgiving.Anyonewho breaksthe laws of the church,and of God, must be punished. But Hester Prynne,whose husbandis not her baby's father,did not sin alone.ITho is the father of her child? 'Why doeshe not speakout?'uflhyshouldHesterwear the scarletletterof shame,and not her lover?Is he not guilty : too?

-tt' O X F O R D B O O K N Y O R M SL I B R A R Y

Classics

The Scarlet Letter Stage4 (1400headwords)

SeriesEditor: Jennifer Bassett Founder Editor: Tricia Hedge Activities Editors: Jennifer Bassettand Christine Lindop

NATHANIEL

HA'ITTHORNE

The ScarletLetter

Retold by John Escott lllustrated by Thomas Sperling

-/ OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

OXFORD

CONTENTS

UNIVERSITYPRESS

Grcat clarendon Street.Oxford ox2 6DP Oxford University Pressis a department of the University of oxford It furthers the University's objective ofexcellence in research,scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide in Oxford NewYork Auckland CapeTom DilesSalaam HongKong Karachi I(ualalumpur Madrid Melboume Mexico City Nairobi NewDelhi Shanghai Taipei Toronto With ofnces in Argentina Austia Brazil Chile CzechRepublic France Greece cuatemala Hugary Italy Japan Poland Poftugal Singapore southKorea Switzerland Thailand Turkey Ukraine Vietnam are registeredtrade marks of oxFoRD and oxFoRD ENGLTSH Oxford University Pressin the UK and in certain other countries This simplified edition o oxford University Press2oo8 Database right Oxford University Press(maker) First published in oxford Bookwoms 2oo2

STORY INTRODUCTION

Salem,my home town . . .

-) 1

1 Hester Prynne'sshame z Roger Chillingworth's secret

12 17

A fatherlesschild 4 A man sent by the devil

25

5 A night on the scaffold

32

6 Hestermeetsthe enemy

39

7 A walk in the forest

45

8 Hope for the future

51

q

59

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1

Escape

10 Hester Prynne'ssadness

69

GLOSSARY

73

ACTIVITIES : Before Reading

76

rsBN 978 o 19 479183o

AcTrvrrrEs: While Reading

77

A complete recording of this Bookworms edition of is availableon audio CD ISBN 978 o 19 4791533 TheScarletLetter

A C T r v r r r E SA : fter Reading

80

ABOUTTHE AUTHOR

84

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ABOUT THE BOOK\TORMS Word count (main text): 15,955words For more infomation on the oxford Bookworms Library, visit \ffi oup com/elt/booktroms

LIBRARY

85

sRteu, MY HOMETOWN,is a quiet place,and not manyships war callat the port here,though in the lastcentury,before.the with Britain,the port was often busy.Now the shipsgo down the coastto the greatsea-portsof Bostonor NewYork,and grass grows in the streetsaroundthe old port buildingsin Salem. Fora few years,when I was a young man,I workedin the port officesof Salem.Most of the time, there was very little w o r k t o d o ,a n do n ed a yi n 1 8 4 9 l w a sl o o k i n gt h r o u g ha n o l d woodenbox in one of the dusty,unusedroomsof the building. It was full of papers about long-forgottenships, but then somethingredcaughtmy eye.I took it out and sawthat it was a piece of red material,in the shape of a letter about ten centimetreslong.lt was the capitalletterA. lt was a wonderful pieceof needlework,with patternsof gold threadaroundthe letter,but the materialwas now worn thin with age. It was a strangething to find.What couldit mean?Was it oncepart of somefashionablelady'sdresslong yearsago? Perhapsa markto showthat the wearerwas a famousperson, or someoneof good familyor greatimportance?

The ScarletLetter I h e l d i t i n m y h a n d s ,w o n d e r i n g , a n d i t s e e m e d t o m e t h a t t h e s c a r l e tl e t t e r h a d s o m e d e e p m e a n i n g ,w h i c h I c o u l d n o t u n d e r s t a n d .T h e n I h e l d t h e l e t t e rt o m y c h e s t a n d - y o u m u s t not doubt my words - experienceda strangefeeling of burning h e a t . S u d d e n l y t h e l e t t e r s e e m e d t o b e n o t r e d m a t e r i a l ,b u t

H e st e r P r y n n e ' ss h a m e

r e d - h o t m e t a l . I t r e m b l e d ,a n d l e t t h e l e t t e rf a l l u p o n t h e f l o o r . Then I saw that there was an old packet of papers next to i t s p l a c e i n t h e b o x . I o p e n e d t h e p a c k e tc a r e f u l l ya n d b e g a n t o r e a d . T h e r e w e r e s e v e r a l p a p e r s ,e x p l a i n i n gt h e h i s t o r y o f t h e s c a r l e t l e t t e r ,a n d c o n t a i n i n g m a n y d e t a i l s o f t h e l i f e a n d e x p e r i e n c e so f a w o m a n c a l l e d H e s t e r P r y n n e .S h e h a d d i e d l o n g a g o , s o m e t i m e i n t h e 1 6 9 0 s ,b u t m a n y p e o p l ei n t h e s t a t e of Massachusettsat that time had known her name and story. And it is Hester Prynne's story that I tell you now. It is a story of the early years of Boston, soon after the City Fathers had built with their own hands the first wooden buildings- the h o u s e s ,t h e c h u r c h e s. . . a n d t h e p r i s o n .

(S n ,hn, June morning, in the middle years of the seventeenth century) the prison in Boston was still a new building. But it already Iooked old, and was a dark, ugly place, surrounded by rough grass. The only thing of beauty was a wild rose growing by the door' and its bright, sweet-smelling flowers seemedto smile kindly at the poor prisoners who went into that place, and at those who came out to their death. A crowd of people waited in Prison Lane. The men all had beards, and wore sad-coloured clothes and tall grey hats. There were women, too' in the crowd, and all eyes watched the heavy wooden door of the prison. There was no mercy in the faces, and the women seemed to take a special interest in what was going to happen. They were country women, and the bright morning sun shone down on strong shoulders and wide skirts, and on round, red faces. Many of them had been born in England, and had crossed the sea twenty years before, with the first families who came to build the town of Boston in New England. They brought the customs and religion of old England with them - and also the loud voices and strong opinions of Englishwomen of those times. 'if 'It would be better.' said one hard-faced woman of fifty,

The ScarletLetter

Hester Prynne's shame

we good, sensible,church-goingwomen could judge this Hester Prynne. And would we give her the same light punishmentthat the magistratesgive her?No!' 'People say,'said anotherwoman, 'that Mr Dimmesdale, her priest,is deeplysaddenedby the shamethat this woman has brought on his church.' 'The magistrates are too merciful,' said a third woman. 'They shouldburn the letter into her foreheadwith hot meral, not put it on the front of her dress!' 'Sheought to die!'criedanotherwoman. ,Shehasbrought shameon all of us! Ah - hereshecomes!' The door of the prison openedand, like a black shadow coming out into sunshine,the prison officer appeared.He put his right hand on the shoulderof a woman and pulled her forward, but shepushedhim away and steppedout into the open air. There was a child in her arms - a baby of three months - which shut its eyesand turned its head away from the bright sun. The woman's facewas suddenlypink under the staresof the crowd, but shesmiledproudly and looked round at her neighboursand the peopleof her rown. On the bosomof her dress,in fine red cloth and surroundedwith fantasticpatterns of gold thread,was rhe letter A.

The woman smiled proudly and looked round at the PeoPleof her town.

The young woman was tall and perfectlyshaped.Shehad

But the thing that everyone stared at was the Scarlet Letter'

long dark hair which shonein the sunlight, and a beautiful facewith deepblack eyes.Shewalked like a lady, and those

sewn so fantastically on to her dress. 'She is clever with her needle,' said one of the women. 'But

who had expected her to appear sad and ashamed were surprisedhow her beautyshoneour through her misfortune.

what a way to show it! She is meant to wear that letter as a punishment, not as something to be proud of!'

Tbe ScarletLetter

Hester Prynne'sshame

The officer steppedforward and people moved back to allow the woman to walk through the crowd. It was not far from the prison to the market-place,where, at the western end, in front of Boston'searliestchurch,stood the scaffold.

than his right. Next came pictures of the tall grey houses and great churches of the city of Amsterdam, where a new life had

Here, criminals met their death before the eyes of the townspeople, but the scaffold platform was also used as a placeof shame,where thosewho had done wrong in the eyes

place, standing on the platform of the scaffold.

of God were madeto stand and show their shamefulfacesto

it with her finger to be sure that the child and the shame were real. Yes - these things were real - everything else had

the world. Hester Prynne accepted her punishmenr bravely. She walked up the wooden stepsto the platform, and turned to face the staresof the crowd.

begun for her with this older man. And then, suddenly, she was back in the Boston marketCould it be true? She held the child so close to her bosom that it cried out. She looked down at the scarlet letter, touched

disappeared. After a time the woman noticed two figures on the edge of the crowd. An Indian was standing there, and by his side was

A thousand eyesfixed on her, looking at the scarletletter on her bosom. Peopletoday might laugh at a sight like this,

a white man, small and intelligent-looking,

but in thoseearly yearsof New England,religiousfeelingwas

although he had arranged his clothes to hide it, it was clear to Hester Prynne that one of the man's shoulders was higher

very strong, and the shameof Hester Prynne'ssin was felt deeplyby young and old throughout rhe town. As shestood there, feelingeveryeyeupon her, shefelt she wanted to screamand throw herselfoff the platform, or else go mad at once.Picturesfrom the pastcameand went inside

and wearing

clothes that showed he had been travelling in wild places. And

than the other. Again, she pulled the child to her bosom so violently that it cried out in pain. But the mother did not seem to hear it. The man on the edge of the crowd had been looking closely

her head:picturesof her villagein Old England,of her dead parents- her father'sfacewith his white beard,her mother,s look of worried love. And her own face - a girl's face in the

at Hester Prynne for some time before she saw him' At first, his face had become dark and angry - but only for a moment,

dark mirror where shehad often staredat it. And then the face of a man old in years,a thin, white face,with the seriouslook of one who spendsmost of his time studyingbooks.A man

that she recognized him. 'Excuse me,' he said to a man near him. ''Who is this

whose eyesseemedto seeinto the human soul when their owner wished it, and whose left shoulderwas a little hieher

then it was calm again. Soon he saw Hester staring' and knew

woman, and why is she standing there in public shame?' 'You must be a stranger here, friend,' said the man, looking 'or you would at the questioner and his Indian companion,

Tbe ScarletLetter know about the evil Mistressprynne.Shehas brought great shameon Mr Dimmesdale'schurch., 'It is true,'said the stranger.,I am new here.I have had many accidentson land and at sea,and I,ve beena prisoner of the wild men in the south. This Indian has helped me ger free. Pleasetell me what brought this Hester prynne to the scaffold.' 'She was the wife of an Englishman who lived in Amsterdam,' said the townsman. ,He decidedto come to Massachusetts, and senr his wife aheadof him as he had businessmatters to bring to an end before he could leave. During the two yearsrhat rhe woman haslived herein Boston, therehas beenno newsof Master prynne;and his young wife, yousee...' 'Ah! I understand,'said the stranger,with a cold smile. 'And who is the father of the child sheis holding?, 'That remains a mystery,' said the other man. .Hester Prynnerefusesto speakhis name., 'Her husbandshould come and find the man.' said the stranger)with another smile. 'Yes, indeed he should if he is still alive,' replied the townsman. 'Our magistrates,you see,decidedto be merciful. Sheis obviously guilty of adultery,and the usualpunishmenr for adulteryis death.But Mistressprynne is young and good_ looking, and her husbandis probably at the boftom of the sea. So, in their mercy,the magistrateshave orderedher to stand on the scaffold for three hours, and to wear the scarlet ,,A,, for adultery for the rest of her life.'

Hester Prynne'ssbame 'A sensiblepunishment,' said the stranger.'It will warn others againstthis sin. However, it is wrong that the father of her child, who hasalsosinned,is not standingby her side on the scaffold.But he will be known! He will be known!' The stranger thanked the townsman, whispered a few words to his Indian companion, and then they both moved away through the crowd. During this conversation,HesterPrynnehad beenwatching the stranger- and was glad to havethe staringcrowd between herselfand him. It was better to srandlike this, than to have to meethim alone,and shefearedthe moment of that meeting gready.Lost in thesethoughts, she did not at firsr hear the voice behind her. 'Listento me, HesterPrynne!' the voicesaid again. It was the voiceof the famousJohn'Wilson,the oldestpriest in Boston,and a kind man. He stood with the other priests and officers of the town on a balcony outside the meeting-house,which was closebehind the scaffold. 'I haveaskedmy youngfriend'Mr'Wilson put a hand on the shoulderof the paleyoung priest besidehim -'to askyou onceagainfor the nameof the man who brought this terrible shameupon you. Mr Dimmesdalehas beenyour priest,and is the best man to do it. Speak to the woman, Mr Dimmesdale.It is important to her soul,and to you, who cares about her soul.Persuadeher to tell the truth!' The young priesthad large,sad brown eyes,and lips that trembledas he spoke.He seemedshy and sensirive,and his face had a fearful, half-frightenedlook. But when he spoke,

HesterPrynne'sshame

The Scarlet Letter his simple words and sweet voice went straight to people's hearts and often brought tears to their eyes. He stepped forward on the balcony and looked down at the woman below him. 'Hester Prynne,' he said. 'If you think it will bring peaceto your soul, and will bring you closer to the path to heaven, speak out the name of the man! Do not be silent becauseyou feel sorry for him. Believe me, Hester, although he may have to step down from a high place and stand beside you on the platform of shame, it is better to do that than ro hide a guilty heart through his life. Heaven has allowed you public shame, and the chance to win an open battle with the evil inside you and the sadnessoutside. Do you refuse to give him that same chance - which he may be too afraid to take himself ?' Hester shook her head, her face now as pale as the young priest's. 'I will not speak his name,' she said. 'My child must find a father in heaven. She will never know one on earth!' Again she was asked, and again she refused. Then the oldest priest spoke to the crowd about all the evil in the world, and about the sin that brought the mark of the scarlet letter. For an hour or more he spoke, but Hester Prynne kept her place alone upon the platform of shame. \7hen the hours of punishment were over, she was taken back to the prison. And it was whispered by those who stared after her that the scarlet letter threw a rerrible, ghostly light into the darkness inside the orison doors. 'I

10

will not speal