Chapter 18 A FLOOD OF SUNSHINE
第十八章　一片陽光

ARTHUR DIMMESDALE gazed into Hester's face with a look in which hope and joy shone out, indeed, but with fear betwixt them, and a kind of horror at her boldness, who had spoken what he vaguely hinted at, but dared not speak.
阿瑟·丁梅斯代爾凝視著海絲特的面孔，他的神情中確實閃爍著希望和欣喜，但其中也夾雜著畏縮，以及對她的膽識的一種驚懼，因為她說出了他隱約地暗示而沒敢說出的話。

But Hester Prynne, with a mind of native courage and activity, and for so long a period not merely estranged, but outlawed, from society, had habituated herself to such latitude of speculation as was altogether foreign to the clergyman. She had wandered, without rule or guidance, in a moral wilderness; as vast, as intricate and shadowy, as the untamed forest, amid the gloom of which they were now holding a colloquy that was to decide their fate. Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were, in desert places, where she roamed as freely as the wild Indian in his woods. For years past she had looked from this estranged point of view at human institutions, and whatever priests or legislators had established; criticising all with hardly more reverence than the Indian would feel for the clerical band, the judicial robe, the pillory, the gallows, the fireside, or the church. The tendency of her fate and fortunes had been to set her free. The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers- stern and wild ones- and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.
但是，海絲特·白蘭天生具有勇敢和活躍的氣質(zhì)，加之這多年來不僅被人視如陌窖，而且為社會所摒棄，所以就形成了那樣一種思考問題的高度，對牧師來說簡直難以企及。她一直漫無目標(biāo)地在道德的荒野中徘徊；那荒野同這荒林一樣廣漠、一樣錯綜、一樣陰森，而他倆如今正在這幽暗的林中進行決定他們命運的會談。她的智慧和心靈在這里適得其所，她在荒漠之處自由漫游，正如野蠻的印第安人以林為家。在過去這些年中，她以陌生人的目光看待人類的風(fēng)俗制度，以及由教士和立法者所建立的一切；她幾乎和印第安人一樣，以不屑的態(tài)度批評牧師的絲帶、法官的黑袍、頸手枷、絞刑架、家庭或教會。她的命運發(fā)展的趨向始終是放縱她自由的。紅字則是她進入其他婦女不敢涉足的禁區(qū)的通行證。恥辱，絕望，孤寂！——這些就是她的教師，而且是一些嚴(yán)格粗野的教師，他們既使她堅強，也教會她出岔于。

The minister, on the other hand, had never gone through an experience calculated to lead him beyond the scope of generally received laws; although, in a single instance, he had so fearfully transgressed one of the most sacred of them. But this had been a sin of passion, not of principle, nor even purpose. Since that wretched epoch, he had watched, with morbid zeal and minuteness, not his acts- for those it was easy to arrange- but each breath of emotion, and his every thought. At the head of the social system, as the clergyman of that day stood, he was only the more trammelled by its regulations, its principles, and even its prejudices. As a priest, the framework of his order inevitably hemmed him in. As a man who had once sinned, but who kept his conscience all alive and painfully sensitive by the fretting of an unhealed wound, he might have been supposed safer within the line of virtue than if he had never sinned at all.
而在牧師那一方面，卻從來沒有過一種經(jīng)歷會引導(dǎo)他跨越雷池一步；雖說只有一例，他曾經(jīng)那么可怕地冒犯了其中最為神圣的戒條。但那只是情感沖動造成的罪過，并非原則上的對抗，甚至不是故意而為。從那倒霉的時日起，他一直以病態(tài)的熱情，小心翼翼地監(jiān)視著自己的，不是他的行為——因為這很容易調(diào)整——，而是他的每一絲情緒和每一個念頭。當(dāng)年，牧師們是身居社會首位的，因此他只能更受戒律、原則甚至偏見的束縛。身為牧師，他的等級觀必然也會限制他。作為一個一度犯罪、但又因未愈的傷口的不斷刺激而良心未泯并備受折磨的人，他或許會認(rèn)為比起他從未有過罪孽反倒在道德上更加保險。