the monk(僧侣)-第36章

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attempt　to　keep　her　from　me　will　be　unavailing。'

'You　forget　yourself；　Segnor；　You　owe　respect　to　my　age　as　well
as　my　profession。　　Your　Sister　is　no　more。　　If　I　at　first
concealed　her　death；　it　was　from　dreading　lest　an　event　so
unexpected　should　produce　on　you　too　violent　an　effect。　　In
truth；　I　am　but　ill　repaid　for　my　attention。　　And　what　interest；
I　pray　you；　should　I　have　in　detaining　her？　　To　know　her　wish　of
quitting　our　society　is　a　sufficient　reason　for　me　to　wish　her
absence；　and　think　her　a　disgrace　to　the　Sisterhood　of　St。
Clare：　But　She　has　forfeited　my　affection　in　a　manner　yet　more
culpable。　　Her　crimes　were　great；　and　when　you　know　the　cause　of
her　death；　you　will　doubtless　rejoice；　Don　Lorenzo；　that　such　a
Wretch　is　no　longer　in　existence。　　She　was　taken　ill　on　Thursday
last　on　returning　from　confession　in　the　Capuchin　Chapel。　　Her
malady　seemed　attended　with　strange　circumstances；　But　She
persisted　in　concealing　its　cause：　　Thanks　to　the　Virgin；　we　were
too　ignorant　to　suspect　it！　　Judge　then　what　must　have　been　our
consternation；　our　horror；　when　She　was　delivered　the　next　day　of
a　stillborn　Child；　whom　She　immediately　followed　to　the　Grave。　
How；　Segnor？　　Is　it　possible　that　your　countenance　expresses　no
surprize；　no　indignation？　　Is　it　possible　that　your　Sister's
infamy　was　known　to　you；　and　that　still　She　possessed　your
affection？　　In　that　case；　you　have　no　need　of　my　compassion。　　I
can　say　nothing　more；　except　repeat　my　inability　of　obeying　the
orders　of　his　Holiness。　　Agnes　is　no　more；　and　to　convince　you
that　what　I　say　is　true；　I　swear　by　our　blessed　Saviour；　that
three　days　have　past　since　She　was　buried。'

Here　She　kissed　a　small　crucifix　which　hung　at　her　girdle。　　She
then　rose　from　her　chair；　and　quitted　the　Parlour。　　As　She
withdrew；　She　cast　upon　Lorenzo　a　scornful　smile。

'Farewell；　Segnor；'　said　She；　'I　know　no　remedy　for　this
accident：　　I　fear　that　even　a　second　Bull　from　the　Pope　will　not
procure　your　Sister's　resurrection。'

Lorenzo　also　retired；　penetrated　with　affliction：　　But　Don
Raymond's　at　the　news　of　this　event　amounted　to　Madness。　　He
would　not　be　convinced　that　Agnes　was　really　dead；　and　continued
to　insist　that　the　Walls　of　St。　Clare　still　confined　her。　　No
arguments　could　make　him　abandon　his　hopes　of　regaining　her：　
Every　day　some　fresh　scheme　was　invented　for　procuring
intelligence　of　her；　and　all　of　them　were　attended　with　the　same
success。

On　his　part；　Medina　gave　up　the　idea　of　ever　seeing　his　Sister
more：　　Yet　He　believed　that　She　had　been　taken　off　by　unfair
means。　　Under　this　persuasion；　He　encouraged　Don　Raymond's
researches；　determined；　should　He　discover　the　least　warrant　for
his　suspicions；　to　take　a　severe　vengeance　upon　the　unfeeling
Prioress。　　The　loss　of　his　Sister　affected　him　sincerely；　Nor　was
it　the　least　cause　of　his　distress　that　propriety　obliged　him
for　some　time　to　defer　mentioning　Antonia　to　the　Duke。　　In　the
meanwhile　his　emissaries　constantly　surrounded　Elvira's　Door。　
He　had　intelligence　of　all　the　movements　of　his　Mistress：　　As　She
never　failed　every　Thursday　to　attend　the　Sermon　in　the　Capuchin
Cathedral；　He　was　secure　of　seeing　her　once　a　week；　though　in
compliance　with　his　promise；　He　carefully　shunned　her
observation。　　Thus　two　long　Months　passed　away。　　Still　no
information　was　procured　of　Agnes：　　All　but　the　Marquis　credited
her　death；　and　now　Lorenzo　determined　to　disclose　his　sentiments
to　his　Uncle。　　He　had　already　dropt　some　hints　of　his　intention
to　marry；　They　had　been　as　favourably　received　as　He　could
expect；　and　He　harboured　no　doubt　of　the　success　of　his
application。　


CHAPTER　III

　While　in　each　other's　arms　entranced　They　lay；　　
They　blessed　the　night；　and　curst　the　coming　day。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Lee。　

The　burst　of　transport　was　past：　　Ambrosio's　lust　was　satisfied；
Pleasure　fled；　and　Shame　usurped　her　seat　in　his　bosom。　　Confused
and　terrified　at　his　weakness；　He　drew　himself　from　Matilda's
arms。　　His　perjury　presented　itself　before　him：　　He　reflected　on
the　scene　which　had　just　been　acted；　and　trembled　at　the
consequences　of　a　discovery。　　He　looked　forward　with　horror；　His
heart　was　despondent；　and　became　the　abode　of　satiety　and
disgust。　　He　avoided　the　eyes　of　his　Partner　in　frailty；　A
melancholy　silence　prevailed；　during　which　Both　seemed　busied
with　disagreable　reflections。

Matilda　was　the　first　to　break　it。　　She　took　his　hand　gently；　and
pressed　it　to　her　burning　lips。

'Ambrosio！'　　She　murmured　in　a　soft　and　trembling　voice。

The　Abbot　started　at　the　sound。　　He　turned　his　eyes　upon
Matilda's：　　They　were　filled　with　tears；　Her　cheeks　were　covered
with　blushes；　and　her　supplicating　looks　seemed　to　solicit　his
compassion。

'Dangerous　Woman！'　said　He；　'Into　what　an　abyss　of　misery　have
you　plunged　me！　　Should　your　sex　be　discovered；　my　honour；　nay　my
life；　must　pay　for　the　pleasure　of　a　few　moments。　　Fool　that　I
was；　to　trust　myself　to　your　seductions！　　What　can　now　be　done？　
How　can　my　offence　be　expiated？　　What　atonement　can　purchase　the
pardon　of　my　crime？　　Wretched　Matilda；　you　have　destroyed　my
quiet　for　ever！'

'To　me　these　reproaches；　Ambrosio？　　To　me；　who　have　sacrificed
for　you　the　world's　pleasures；　the　luxury　of　wealth；　the　delicacy
of　sex；　my　Friends；　my　fortune；　and　my　fame？　　What　have　you　lost；
which　I　preserved？　　Have　_I_　not　shared　in　YOUR　guilt？　　Have　YOU
not　shared　in　MY　pleasure？　　Guilt；　did　I　say？　　In　what　consists
ours；　unless　in　the　opinion　of　an　ill…judging　World？　　Let　that
World　be　ignorant　of　them；　and　our　joys　become　divine　and
blameless！　　Unnatural　were　your　vows　of　Celibacy；　Man　was　not
created　for　such　a　state；　And　were　Love　a　crime；　God　never　would
have　made　it　so　sweet；　so　irresistible！　　Then　banish　those　clouds
from　your　brow；　my　Ambrosio！　　Indulge　in　those　pleasures　freely；
without　which　life　is　a　worthless　gift：　　Cease　to　reproach　me
with　having　taught　you　what　is　bliss；　and　feel　equal　transports
with　the　Woman　who　adores　you！'

As　She　spoke；　her　eyes　were　filled　with　a　delicious　languor。　　Her
bosom　panted：　　She　twined　her　arms　voluptuously　round　him；　drew
him　towards　her；　and　glewed　her　lips　to　his。　　Ambrosio　again
raged　with　desire：　　The　die　was　thrown：　　His　vows　were　already
broken；　He　had　already　committed　the　crime；　and　why　should　He
refrain　from　enjoying　its　reward？　　He　clasped　her　to　his　breast
with　redoubled　ardour。　　No　longer　repressed　by　the　sense　of
shame；　He　gave　a　loose　to　his　intemperate　appetites。　　While　the
fair　Wanton　put　every　invention　of　lust　in　practice；　every
refinement　in　the　art　of　pleasure　which　might　heighten　the　bliss
of　her　possession；　and　render　her　Lover's　transports　still　more
exquisite；　Ambrosio　rioted　in　delights　till　then　unknown　to　him：　
Swift　fled　the　night；　and　the　Morning　blushed　to　behold　him　still
clasped　in　the　embraces　of　Matilda。

Intoxicated　with　pleasure；　the　Monk　rose　from　the　Syren's
luxurious　Couch。　　He　no　longer　reflected　with　shame　upon　his
incontinence；　or　dreaded　the　vengeance　of　offended　heaven。　　His
only　fear　was　lest　Death　should　rob　him　of　enjoyments；　for　which
his　long　Fast　had　only　given　a　keener　edge　to　his　appetite。　
Matilda　was　still　under　the　influence　of　poison；　and　the
voluptuous　Monk　trembled　less　for　his　Preserver's　life　than　his
Concubine's。　　Deprived　of　her；　He　would　not　easily　find　another
Mistress　with　whom　He　could　indulge　his　passions　so　fully；　and
so　safely。　　He　therefore　pressed　her　with　earnestness　to　use　the
means　of　preservation　which　She　had　declared　to　be　in　her
possession。

'Yes！'　replied　Matilda；　'Since　you　have　made　me　feel　that　Life　is
valuable；　I　will　rescue　mine　at　any　rate。　　No　dangers　shall
appall　me：　　I　will　look　upon　the　consequences　of　my　action
boldly；　nor　shudder　at　the　horrors　which　they　present。　　I　will
think　my　sacrifice　scarcely　worthy　to　purchase　your　possession；
and　remember　that　a　moment　past　in　your　arms　in　this　world
o'er…pays　an　age　of　punishment　in　the　next。　　But　before　I　take
this　step；　Ambrosio；　give　me　your　solemn　oath　never　to　enquire
by　what　means　I　shall　preserve　myself。'

He　did　so　in　a　manner　the　most　binding。

'I　thank　you；　my　Beloved。　　This　precaution　is　necessary；　for
though　you　know　it　not；　you　are　under　the　command　of　vulgar
prejudices：　　The　Business　on　which　I　must　be　employed　this　night；
might　startle　you　from　its　singularity；　and　lower　me　in　your
opinion。　　Tell　me；　Are　you　possessed　of　the　Key　of　the　low　door
on　the　western　side　of　the　Garden？'

'The　Door　which　opens　into　the　burying…ground　common　to　us　and
the　Sisterhood　of　St。　Clare？　　I　have　not　the　Key；　but　can　easily
procure　it。'

'You　have　only　this　to　do。　　Admit　me　into　the　burying…ground　at
midnight；　Watch　while　I　descend　into　the　vaults　of　St。　Clare；
lest　some　prying　eye　should　observe　my　actions；　Leave　me　there
alone　for　an　hour；　and　that　life　is　safe　which　I　dedicate　to
your　pleasures。　　To　prevent　creating　suspicion；　do　not　visit　me
during　the　day。　Remember　the　Key；　and　that　I　expect　you　before
twelve。　　Hark！　　I　hear　steps　approaching！　　Leave　me；　I　will
pretend　to　sleep。'

The　Friar　obeyed；　and　left　the　Cell。　　As　He　opened　the　door；
Father　Pablos　made　his　appearance。

'I　come；'　said　the　Latter；　'to　enquire　after　the　health　of　my
young　Patient。'

'Hush！'　replied　Ambrosio；　laying　his　finger　upon　his　lip；　'Speak
softly；　I　am　just　come　from　him。　　He　has　fallen　into　a　profound
slumber；　which　doubtless　will　be　of　service　to　him。　　Do　not
disturb　him　at　present；　for　He　wishes　to　repose。'

Father　Pablos　obeyed；　and　hearing　the　Bell　ring；　accompanied　the
Abbot　to　Matins。　　Ambrosio　felt　embarrassed　as　He　entered　the
Chapel。　　Guilt　was　new　to　him；　and　He　fancied　that　every　eye
could　read　the　transactions　of　the　night　upon　his　countenance。　
He　strove　to　pray；　His　bosom　no　longer　glowed　with　devotion；　His
thoughts　insensibly　wandered　to　Matilda's　secret　charms。　　But
what　He　wanted　in　purity　of　heart；　He　supplied　by　exterior
sanctity。　　The　better　to　cloak　his　transgression；　He　redoubled
his　pretensions　to　the　semblance　of　virtue；　and　never　appeared
more　devoted　to　Heaven　as　since　He　had　broken　through　his
engagements。　　Thus　did　He　unconsciously　add　Hypocrisy　to　perjury
and　incontinence；　He　had　fallen　into　the　latter　errors　from
yielding　to　seduction　almost　irresistible；　But　he　was　now　guilty
of　a　voluntary　fault　by　endeavouring　to　conceal　those　into　which
Another　had　betrayed　him。

The　Matins　concluded；　Ambrosio　retired　to　his　Cell。　　The
pleasures　which　He　had　just　tasted　for　the　first　time　were　still
impressed　upon　his　mind。　　His　brain　was　bewildered；　and　presented
a　confused　Chaos　of　remorse；　voluptuousness；　inquietude；　and
fear。　　He　looked　back　with　regret　to　that　peace　of　soul；　that
security　of　virtue；　which　till　then　had　been　his　portion。　　He　had
indulged　in　excesses　whose　very　idea　but　four　and　twenty　hours
before　He　had　recoiled　at　with　horror。　　He　shuddered　at
reflecting　that　a　trifling　indiscretion　on　his　part；　or　on
Matilda's；　would　overturn　that　fabric　of　reputation　which　it　had
cost　him　thirty　years　to　erect；　and　render　him　the　abhorrence　of
that　People　of　whom　He　was　then　the　Idol。