Re-enter Ursula with ale.
Who is it, Ursula, they try?
Ursula. A gentle lady, sir. God's-my-life, had no man tempted her—but, that's your ways, you tempt us, blame us when we yield, and then make laws to punish us.
Butts. But, what's her name?
Ursula. What should it be but Hester Prynne?
Butts. Hester Prynne? The gentle Mistress Prynne I brought from Amsterdam three years ago?
Ursula. The same, God bless her.
Butts. My lads, don't wait for me.
[Exeunt Sailors.
I knew her husband, Ursula; a man
Well versed in all the wisdom of the time;
Somewhat well gone in years, but lovable
Beyond the shallowness of youth, and rich
In mellow charity. Oft hath he sailed
With me from port to port where learning drew him,
And still came richer home. One day he shipped
For Amsterdam and brought his bride, who, like
A hawthorn in its pink of youth that blushes
'Neath the shadow of an ancient elm,
Shed spring-time sweetness round his green old age.
I've seen them often in their Holland home,
Where wisdom laid its treasures at the feet
Of love, and beauty crowned the offering.
She was a lovely lady, Ursula,
And when her lord, still bent on learning more,
Resolved to come out to America—
[top] His own affairs then calling him to England—
He placed her in my care, intending soon
To follow her. He did, but curséd fate!
His ship was lost—no one knows where!