“Rosina！”criedhe，inbrokenandpassionatetones，butwith
nothingofthewildwailthathadhauntedhisvoicesolong。“Forgive！
Forgive！”
Herhappytearsbedewedhisface。
“Thepunishmenthasbeensevere。”observedthesculptor。“Even
justicemightnowforgive-howmuchmoreawoman’stenderness！
RoderickElliston，whethertheserpentwasaphysicalreptile，or
whetherthemorbidnessofyournaturesuggestedthatsymboltoyour
fancy，themoralofthestoryisnotthelesstrueandstrong。A
tremendousEgotism-manifestingitself，inyourcase，intheformof
jealousy-isasfearfulafiendaseverstoleintothehumanheart。
Canabreast，whereithasdweltsolong，bepurified？”
“Oh，yes！”saidRosina，withaheavenlysmile。“Theserpentwasbut
adarkfantasy，andwhatittypifiedwasasshadowyasitself。The
past，dismalasitseems，shallflingnogloomuponthefuture。To
giveititsdueimportance，wemustthinkofitbutasananecdote
inourEternity！”
byNathanielHawthorne
BARTRAMTHELIME-BURNER，arough，heavy-lookingman，begrimed
withcharcoal，satwatchinghiskiln，atnightfall，whilehislittle
sonplayedatbuildinghouseswiththescatteredfragmentsof
marble，when，onthehill-sidebelowthem，theyheardaroarof
laughter，notmirthful，butslow，andevensolemn，likeawindshaking
theboughsoftheforest。
“Father，whatisthat？”askedthelittleboy，leavinghisplay，and
pressingbetwixthisfather’sknees。
“O，somedrunkenman，Isuppose。”answeredthelime-burner；“some
merryfellowfromthebar-roominthevillage，whodarednotlaugh
loudenoughwithindoors，lestheshouldblowtheroofofthehouse
off。Sohereheis，shakinghisjollysidesatthefootofGray-lock。”
“But，father。”saidthechild，moresensitivethantheobtuse，
middle-agedclown，“hedoesnotlaughlikeamanthatisglad。So
thenoisefrightensme！”
“Don’tbeafool，child！”criedhisfather，gruffly。“Youwill
nevermakeaman，Idobelieve；thereistoomuchofyourmotherin
you。Ihaveknowntherustlingofaleafstartleyou。Hark！Herecomes
themerryfellow，now。Youshallseethatthereisnoharminhim。”
Bartramandhislittleson，whiletheyweretalkingthus，sat
watchingthesamelime-kilnthathadbeenthesceneofEthanBrand’s
solitaryandmeditativelife，beforehebeganhissearchforthe
UnpardonableSin。Manyyears，aswehaveseen，hadnowelapsed，
sincethatportentousnightwhentheIDEAwasfirstdeveloped。The
kiln，however，onthemountain-side，stoodunimpaired，andwasin
nothingchangedsincehehadthrownhisdarkthoughtsintotheintense
glowofitsfurnace，andmeltedthem，asitwere，intotheonethought
thattookpossessionofhislife。Itwasarude，round，tower-like
structure，abouttwentyfeethigh，heavilybuiltofroughstones，
andwithahillockofearthheapedaboutthelargerpartofits
circumference；sothattheblocksandfragmentsofmarblemightbe
drawnbycart-loads，andthrowninatthetop。Therewasanopeningat
thebottomofthetower，likeanoven-mouth，butlargeenoughtoadmit
amaninastoopingposture，andprovidedwithamassiveirondoor。
Withthesmokeandjetsofflameissuingfromthechinksand
crevicesofthisdoor，whichseemedtogiveadmittanceintothe
hill-side，itresemblednothingsomuchastheprivateentrancetothe
infernalregions，whichtheshepherdsoftheDelectableMountainswere
accustomedtoshowtopilgrims。
Therearemanysuchlime-kilnsinthattractofcountry，forthe
purposeofburningthewhitemarblewhichcomposesalargepartofthe
substanceofthehills。Someofthem，builtyearsago，andlong
deserted，withweedsgrowinginthevacantroundoftheinterior，
whichisopentothesky，andgrassandwild-flowersrooting
themselvesintothechinksofthestones，lookalreadylikerelics
ofantiquity，andmayyetbeoverspreadwiththelichensof
centuriestocome。Others，wherethelime-burnerstillfeedshisdaily
andnightlongfire，affordpointsofinteresttothewandereramong
thehills，whoseatshimselfonalogofwoodorafragmentofmarble，
toholdachatwiththesolitaryman。Itisalonesome，and，when
thecharacterisinclinedtothought，maybeanintenselythoughtful
occupation；asitprovedinthecaseofEthanBrand，whohadmused
tosuchstrangepurpose，indaysgoneby，whilethefireinthis
verykilnwasburning。
Themanwhonowwatchedthefirewasofadifferentorder，and
troubledhimselfwithnothoughtssavetheveryfewthatwere
requisitetohisbusiness。Atfrequentintervals，heflungbackthe
clashingweightoftheirondoor，and，turninghisfacefromthe
insufferableglare，thrustinhugelogsofoak，orstirredtheimmense
brandswithalongpole。Withinthefurnacewereseenthecurling
andriotousflames，andtheburningmarble，almostmoltenwiththe
intensityofheat；whilewithout，thereflectionofthefire
quiveredonthedarkintricacyofthesurroundingforest，andshowed
intheforegroundabrightandruddylittlepictureofthehut，the
springbesideitsdoor，theathleticandcoal-begrimedfigureofthe
lime-burner，andthehalf-frightenedchild，shrinkingintothe
protectionofhisfather’sshadow。Andwhenagaintheirondoorwas
closed，thenreappearedthetenderlightofthehalf-fullmoon，
whichvainlystrovetotraceouttheindistinctshapesofthe
neighboringmountains；and，intheuppersky，therewasaflitting
congregationofclouds，stillfaintlytingedwiththerosysunset，
thoughthusfardownintothevalleythesunshinehadvanishedlong
andlongago。
Thelittleboynowcreptstillclosertohisfather，asfootsteps
wereheardascendingthehill-side，andahumanformthrustaside
thebushesthatclusteredbeneaththetrees。
“Halloo！whoisit？”criedthelime-burner，vexedathisson’s
timidity，yethalfinfectedbyit。“Comeforward，andshowyourself，
likeaman，orI’llflingthischunkofmarbleatyourhead！”
“Youoffermearoughwelcome。”saidagloomyvoice，astheunknown
mandrewnigh。“YetIneitherclaimnordesireakinderone，evenat
myownfireside。”
Toobtainadistincterview，Bartramthrewopentheirondoorof
thekiln，whenceimmediatelyissuedagushoffiercelight，thatsmote
fulluponthestranger’sfaceandfigure。Toacarelesseyethere
appearednothingveryremarkableinhisaspect，whichwasthatofa
maninacoarse，brown，country-madesuitofclothes，tallandthin，
withthestaffandheavyshoesofawayfarer。Asheadvanced，hefixed
hiseyes-whichwereverybright-intentlyuponthebrightnessof
thefurnace，asifhebeheld，orexpectedtobehold，someobject
worthyofnotewithinit。
“Goodevening，stranger。”saidthelime-burner；“whencecomeyou，
solateintheday？”
“Icomefrommysearch。”answeredthewayfarer；“for，atlast，it
isfinished。”
“Drunk！-orcrazy！”mutteredBartramtohimself。“Ishallhave
troublewiththefellow。ThesoonerIdrivehimaway，thebetter。”
Thelittleboy，allinatremble，whisperedtohisfather，and
beggedhimtoshutthedoorofthekiln，sothattheremightnotbeso
muchlight；forthattherewassomethingintheman’sfacewhichhe
wasafraidtolookat，yetcouldnotlookawayfrom。And，indeed，even
thelime-burner’sdullandtorpidsensebegantobeimpressedbyan
indescribablesomethinginthatthin，rugged，thoughtfulvisage，
withthegrizzledhairhangingwildlyaboutit，andthose
deeply-sunkeneyes，whichgleamedlikefireswithintheentranceof
amysteriouscavern。But，asheclosedthedoor，thestrangerturned
towardshim，andspokeinaquiet，familiarway，thatmadeBartram
feelasifhewereasaneandsensibleman，afterall。
“Yourtaskdrawstoanend，Isee。”saidhe。“Thismarblehas
alreadybeenburningthreedays。Afewhoursmorewillconvertthe
stonetolime。”
“Why，whoareyou？”exclaimedthelime-burner。“Youseemaswell
acquaintedwithmybusinessasIammyself。”
“AndwellImaybe。”saidthestranger；“forIfollowedthesame
craftmanyalongyear，andhere，too，onthisveryspot。Butyou
areanewcomerintheseparts。DidyouneverhearofEthanBrand？”
“ThemanthatwentinsearchoftheUnpardonableSin？”asked
Bartram，withalaugh。
“Thesame。”answeredthestranger。“Hehasfoundwhathesought，
andthereforehecomesbackagain。”
“What！thenyouareEthanBrandhimself？”criedthelime-burner，in
amazement。“Iamanewcomerhere，asyousay，andtheycallit
eighteenyearssinceyouleftthefootofGray-lock。But，Icantell
you，thegoodfolksstilltalkaboutEthanBrand，inthevillage
yonder，andwhatastrangeerrandtookhimawayfromhislime-kiln。
Well，andsoyouhavefoundtheUnpardonableSin？”
“Evenso！”saidthestranger，calmly。
“Ifthequestionisafairone。”proceededBartram，“wheremightit
be？”
EthanBrandlaidhisfingeronhisownheart。
“Here！”repliedhe。
Andthen，withoutmirthinhiscountenance，butasifmovedbyan
involuntaryrecognitionoftheinfiniteabsurdityofseeking
throughouttheworldforwhatwastheclosestofallthingsto
himself，andlookingintoeveryheart，savehisown，forwhatwas
hiddeninnootherbreast，hebrokeintoalaughofscorn。Itwas
thesameslow，heavylaugh，thathadalmostappalledthelime-burner
whenitheraldedthewayfarer’sapproach。
Thesolitarymountain-sidewasmadedismalbyit。Laughter，when
outofplace，mistimed，orburstingforthfromadisorderedstateof
feeling，maybethemostterriblemodulationofthehumanvoice。The
laughterofoneasleep，evenifitbealittlechild-themadman’s
laugh-thewild，screaminglaughofabornidiot-aresoundsthatwe
sometimestrembletohear，andwouldalwayswillinglyforget。Poets
haveimaginednoutteranceoffiendsorhobgoblinssofearfully
appropriateasalaugh。Andeventheobtuselime-burnerfelthis
nervesshaken，asthisstrangemanlookedinwardathisownheart，and
burstintolaughterthatrolledawayintothenight，andwas
indistinctlyreverberatedamongthehills。
“Joe。”saidhetohislittleson，“scamperdowntothetavernin
thevillage，andtellthejollyfellowstherethatEthanBrandhas
comeback，andthathehasfoundtheUnpardonableSin！”
Theboydartedawayonhiserrand，towhichEthanBrandmadeno
objection，norseemedhardlytonoticeit。Hesatonalogofwood，
lookingsteadfastlyattheirondoorofthekiln。Whenthechildwas
outofsight，andhisswiftandlightfootstepsceasedtobeheard
treadingfirstonthefallenleavesandthenontherockymountain
path，thelime-burnerbegantoregrethisdeparture。Hefeltthat
thelittlefellow’spresencehadbeenabarrierbetweenhisguest
andhimself，andthathemustnowdeal，hearttoheart，withaman
who，onhisownconfession，hadcommittedtheoneonlycrimeforwhich
Heavencouldaffordnomercy。Thatcrime，initsindistinctblackness，
seemedtoovershadowhim。Thelime-burner’sownsinsroseupwithin
him，andmadehismemoryriotouswithathrongofevilshapesthat
assertedtheirkindredwiththeMasterSin，whateveritmightbe，
whichitwaswithinthescopeofman’scorruptednaturetoconceive
andcherish。Theywereallofonefamily；theywenttoandfrobetween
hisbreastandEthanBrand’s，andcarrieddarkgreetingsfromoneto
theother。
