HesterPrynnewasnowfullysensibleofthedeepinjuryforwhichshewasresponsibletothisunhappyman，inpermittinghimtolieforsomanyyears，or，indeed，forasinglemoment，atthemercyofonewhosepurposescouldnotbeotherthanmalevolent。Theverycontiguityofhisenemy，beneathwhatevermaskthelattermightconcealhimself，wasenoughtodisturbthemagneticsphereofabeingsosensitiveasArthurDimmesdale。TherehadbeenaperiodwhenHesterwaslessalivetothisconsideration；or，perhaps，inthemisanthropyofherowntrouble，shelefttheministertobearwhatshemightpicturetoherselfasamoretolerabledoom。Butoflate，sincethenightofhisvigil，allhersympathiestowardshimhadbeenbothsoftenedandinvigorated。Shenowreadhisheartmoreaccurately。Shedoubtednot，thatthecontinualpresenceofRogerChillingworththesecretpoisonofhismalignity，infectingalltheairabouthim—andhisauthorisedinterference，asaphysician，withtheminister’sphysicalandspiritualinfirmities—thatthesebadopportunitieshadbeenturnedtoacruelpurpose。Bymeansofthem，thesufferer’sconsciencehadbeenkeptinanirritatedstate，thetendencyofwhichwas，nottocurebywholesomepain，buttodisorganiseandcorrupthisspiritualbeing。Itsresult，onearth，couldhardlyfailtobeinsanity，andhereafter，thateternalalienationfromtheGoodandTrue，ofwhichmadnessisperhapstheearthlytype。
Suchwastheruintowhichshehadbroughttheman，once—nay，whyshouldwenotspeakit？—stillsopassionatelyloved！Hesterfeltthatthesacrificeoftheclergyman’sgoodname，anddeathitself，asshehadalreadytoldRogerChillingworth，wouldhavebeeninfinitelypreferabletothealternativewhichshehadtakenuponherselftochoose。Andnow，ratherthanhavehadthisgrievouswrongtoconfess，shewouldgladlyhavelaindownontheforest—leaves，anddiedthere，atArthurDimmesdale’sfeet。
\"OArthur，\"criedshe，\"forgiveme！Inallthingselse，Ihavestriventobetrue！TruthwastheonevirtuewhichImighthaveheldfast，anddidholdfast，throughallextremity；savewhenthygood—
thylifethyfame—wereputinquestion！ThenIconsentedtoadeception。Butalieisnevergood，eventhoughdeaththreatenontheotherside！DostthounotseewhatIwouldsay？Thatoldman！—thephysician！—hewhomtheycallRogerChillingworth！—hewasmyhusband！\"
Theministerlookedather，foraninstant，withallthatviolenceofpassion，which—intermixed，inmoreshapesthanone，withhishigher，purer，softerqualities—was，infact，theportionofhimwhichtheDevilclaimed，andthroughwhichhesoughttowintherest。NeverwasthereablackerorafiercerfrownthanHesternowencountered。Forthebriefspacethatitlasted，itwasadarktransfiguration。Buthischaracterhadbeensomuchenfeebledbysuffering，thatevenitslowerenergieswereincapableofmorethanatemporarystruggle。Hesankdownontheground，andburiedhisfaceinhishands。