y, trying to recall the verse._
Ah! Diggory, thou art but a dram of love in a fluid ounce of fool! And
so may we label all mankind. For instance: the Governor is a wise
man and a politic; Wilson a good man and a pious; Dimsdell--ah!
there I pause, for what fine formula can sum the qualities of that
same Arthur Dimsdell? He's not a fool; nor mad; nor truly
cataleptic--yet he's moody, falls in trance, and I suspect his power
as a preacher comes from ecstasy. Something he is akin to
genius--yet he hath it not, for though his aim be true enough, he
often flashes in the pan when genius would have hit the mark. I'll
write his case in Latin! What a study that would be if I could
first find out the reason why he clutches at his breast!--If once I
find him in a trance, alone--ah! here they come.

_Enter GOVERNOR BELLINGHAM, REV. JOHN WILSON, REV. ARTHUR DIMSDELL,
and following them, with a tray of wine, DIGGORY._

_Wilson._ Good morrow, Doctor.

_Roger._ Good morning, gentlemen.

_Governor._ [_To Diggory._] Leave the wine within the summer house.
Good morning, Doctor. When Mistress Prynne doth come conduct her
hither.

_Diggory._ Sir, she's coming this way now.

_Governor._ Very well. Go. [_Exit Diggory._] Doctor, we debate what
disposition should be made of Hester Prynne's young child. We ask
your aid--but here she is.

_Enter HESTER PRYNNE._

_Hester._ Your worship hath been pleased to summon me
To bring my child before you.

_Governor._ Where is the child?

_Hester._ The babe is sick but answers by attorney.
What is your will?

_Governor._ Some pious matrons, Hester,
Have charged that thou art not a person fit
To rear that infant immortality,
And guide it unto God.

_Hester._ God gave the child
In rich exchange for all things else which I,
Poor sinful I, had forfeited; and now
You, who have made yourselves the flails of God,
Would separate the wheat from chaff before
The grain is ripe, and take her from me.
Oh! ye are wise! No doubt ye see beyond
The purpose of Almighty God who gave
The child to me!

_Governor._ Nay, take it not to heart,
For, Hester, duty to the child we owe
To put its soul upon the way that leads
To Heaven. She will be cared for tenderly.

_Hester._ She is the last small link that binds my soul
To earth, the tiny needle that doth point
My way to Heaven. You shall not take her f