The Scarlet Libretto

Scene Four

27 Scene Four A small space of light. The home of Arthur Dimmesdale, now shared with Roger Chillingworth. Dimmesdale sits in a chair, evidently ill, a blanket over his lap. Chillingworth shakes a vial and pours its contents into a drinking glass. CHILLINGWORTH Just one more potion for you, friend. I pray your suffering will end. DIMMESDALE My suffering means little now. I seem embarked on a dark road with only the solace of the Book and memories of happiness. CHILLINGWORTH (half to himself) What weighs on you? What weakens you? Is there some terror of the night that keeps your tossing mind from rest? Some quarrel with yourself? Some blade of sorrow twisting in your breast? DIMMESDALE You watch me like a hawk. CHILLINGWORTH A doctor Must observe his patient well. DIMMESDALE You question me so closely, friend. CHILLINGWORTH To see your suffering at an end. I’ve made a study of the mind, 28 its weaknesses, its inward pains. You’ve been my friend for years. We’ve shared these lodgings and I’ve seen you suffer. I’ve nursed you, kept you close to me, but fear some secret grips your soul, weakens your body day by day, bleeds you of desire to live. DIMMESDALE The way you look at me—sometimes I fear what you would hope to find. Forgive me. You have been a friend and your intentions have been kind. CHILLINGWORTH (putting on his cape and hat) The truth is all I wish to know. I am a man of truth. The truth, says John, the truth shall set you free. There’s nothing, nothing you need fear. Rest now. Let agitation end. Let fever fall away, and rest. I have an errand to perform across the town, and I will hope to see you in a happy mood when you have slept and I return. (aside) This is the fever of a guilty man with no suspicion of a doctor’s plan to penetrate his soul and know the truth— the evil hid as innocence and youth. (to Dimmesdale) Our founder, Winthrop, is on his deathbed now and I am called to tend him at this hour. He needs a higher physic than my own, a doctoring of soul. Rest now, rest now. 29 Chillingworth departs, carrying his medical tools. Dimmesdale drifts into a feverish sleep. DIMMESDALE (tossing in sleep) What is this medicine? What did you give to me? Why do I dream this way? What did you say to me? What did you, what did you say? Ah! He jolts awake, tosses the blanket aside. I must. I must go. I must go out of these confining rooms. I must dispel this gloom. Despair is sin and I must live to re-devote myself to God. My guilt will rend me from myself and worse—I’m torn from Thee. I cannot hear Thy voice! He walks out of the light of his room and finds himself in the dim but broader light of the street. It is the green of Scene One— the scaffold and balcony visible in a ghostly way. There is a desperateness in his pacing. My friend. My friend must know I am not who I seem. I live a secret life, a man who walks a dream. 30 My faith was strong. Was strong! I know it was. Then why am I so doubtful now, under this peaceful sky? The houses of the town are sleeping secretly. Am I an evil man? Is this some sorcery? He changes direction in his wandering, wringing his hands, his eyes darting between heaven and earth. As he nears the scaffold, old Mistress Hibbons appears around the corner. She has a mad aspect, evidently a denizen of the night. MISTRESS HIBBONS Ah! DIMMESDALE Good Mistress Hibbons, out so late and so alone. MISTRESS HIBBONS Good Reverend Dimmesdale. Good Mistress Hibbons. Everyone is good. DIMMESDALE Have I offended you? MISTRESS HIBBONS You have offended Good. DIMMESDALE I do not know your meaning. 31 MISTRESS HIBBONS (reading him) You do not know yourself. DIMMESDALE I pray you, let me pass. MISTRESS HIBBONS I see a secret in your eyes. A secret bars you from yourself. You hide. DIMMESDALE Please let me pass. MISTRESS HIBBONS From where to where on this good night? These are not solving stars. These...