Journal, You should have seen Hester's face when she recognized me, I could see the fright in her eyes. She must have thought I would confess my real identity to these good Puritan citizens, but no, I shall not bring shame to myself, I would rather her hold the self-afflicted burden she carries upon her breast as she has been forced to do so. My only grief is that this 'A', which is the symbol of her sins, is almost as beautiful as she. When I see the magnificence of this scarlet figure, I feel nothing but rage for the evil that has taken Hester from my possession, and also for Hester, the sinner herself. Its beauty leads me to believe that she holds her fellow sinner in high esteem and with true adoration.
I have discovered the serpent in the garden of my marriage; he is none other than the MOST REVERAND MR.
DIMMESDALE. He sits upon his pulpit day, after day, after day, preaching the word of our most holy one, while I have to think of him touching my wife with his bare hands, loving her, as I should have been. I must think of her ecstasy in his arms while I was abroad becoming better for myself, for her, for our future. I sit alone in my head, rummaging through thoughts I would not have thought a husband have for his beloved, but to hell with her, she is none other than an offender to a most sacred union; but this man, he is truly wicked. Mr. Dimmesdale is the pastor of this town's parish. He has his duties, he knows his vows; how dare he go against his covenant with the Lord! I visited with Mr. Dimmesdale. Ha! The anguish written on his face brings chills down my spine, and the containers of guilt under his eyes bring only a smile to my somber looks. He expects me to help him with his anguish; he thinks I shall be his liberator of torture, but no, I want him to cringe at the sight of his fellow Puritans. I want Mr. Dimmesdale to feel every bit of distress he has earned.
One I have not thought of so much is Pearl, the child; so sad that she was born with such a cloud of blackness over her. I hope she realizes how evil she is; that she mourns her would be life if she were not a production of sinful lust. Forever shall she be an outcast in this good society of God-fearing people. I have watched her closely; she finds enjoyment in her own head, where she creates a sense of pleasure for herself. She sits alone, content as long as her mother is close by. The other village children know she is different, some even know how sinful she is. One day they were innocently mocking her for her evilness, the impish Pearl struck back with demonic yelps and by flinging rocks at the good children. With behavior such as that, it is obvious to all just how unruly Pearl is.
How terrible for me to have to go through all of this! How I pity myself! I know that through prayer and contemplation I shall overcome this inequity that has fallen upon me. If I knew that I would not be shamed for my true identity, I would reveal myself to be Hester's husband; if that unveiling were to cause Hester and her accomplice more agony without my dishonor, I would come forth this minute. Instead, I sit here writing it all down, every thought I have. One day, when someone finds my journal, everyone will understand my suffering and how terrible Hester, Mr. Dimmesdale, and little Pearl are.