the monk(僧侣)-第44章

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heart　an　innate　love　of　virtue。　　But　it　ill　becomes　you　to　tax　me
with　my　perjury：　　You；　who　first　seduced　me　to　violate　my　vows；
You；　who　first　rouzed　my　sleeping　vices；　made　me　feel　the　weight
of　Religion's　chains；　and　bad　me　be　convinced　that　guilt　had
pleasures。　　Yet　though　my　principles　have　yielded　to　the　force　of
temperament；　I　still　have　sufficient　grace　to　shudder　at　Sorcery；
and　avoid　a　crime　so　monstrous；　so　unpardonable！'

'Unpardonable；　say　you？　　Where　then　is　your　constant　boast　of　the
Almighty's　infinite　mercy？　　Has　He　of　late　set　bounds　to　it？　
Receives　He　no　longer　a　Sinner　with　joy？　　You　injure　him；
Ambrosio；　You　will　always　have　time　to　repent；　and　He　have
goodness　to　forgive。　　Afford　him　a　glorious　opportunity　to　exert
that　goodness：　　The　greater　your　crime；　the　greater　his　merit　in
pardoning。　　Away　then　with　these　childish　scruples：　　Be　persuaded
to　your　good；　and　follow　me　to　the　Sepulchre。'

'Oh！　cease；　Matilda！　　That　scoffing　tone；　that　bold　and　impious
language；　is　horrible　in　every　mouth；　but　most　so　in　a　Woman's。　
Let　us　drop　a　conversation　which　excites　no　other　sentiments
than　horror　and　disgust。　　I　will　not　follow　you　to　the　Sepulchre；
or　accept　the　services　of　your　infernal　Agents。　　Antonia　shall　be
mine；　but　mine　by　human　means。'

'Then　yours　She　will　never　be！　　You　are　banished　her　presence；
Her　Mother　has　opened　her　eyes　to　your　designs；　and　She　is　now
upon　her　guard　against　them。　　Nay　more；　She　loves　another。　　A
Youth　of　distinguished　merit　possesses　her　heart；　and　unless　you
interfere；　a　few　days　will　make　her　his　Bride。　　This　intelligence
was　brought　me　by　my　invisible　Servants；　to　whom　I　had　recourse
on　first　perceiving　your　indifference。　　They　watched　your　every
action；　related　to　me　all　that　past　at　Elvira's；　and　inspired　me
with　the　idea　of　favouring　your　designs。　　Their　reports　have　been
my　only　comfort。　　Though　you　shunned　my　presence；　all　your
proceedings　were　known　to　me：　　Nay；　I　was　constantly　with　you　in
some　degree；　thanks　to　this　precious　gift！'

With　these　words　She　drew　from　beneath　her　habit　a　mirror　of
polished　steel；　the　borders　of　which　were　marked　with　various
strange　and　unknown　characters。

'Amidst　all　my　sorrows；　amidst　all　my　regrets　for　your　coldness；
I　was　sustained　from　despair　by　the　virtues　of　this　Talisman。　　On
pronouncing　certain　words；　the　Person　appears　in　it　on　whom　the
Observer's　thoughts　are　bent：　thus　though　_I_　was　exiled　from
YOUR　sight；　you；　Ambrosio；　were　ever　present　to　mine。'

The　Friar's　curiosity　was　excited　strongly。

'What　you　relate　is　incredible！　　Matilda；　are　you　not　amusing
yourself　with　my　credulity？'

'Be　your　own　eyes　the　Judge。'

She　put　the　Mirror　into　his　hand。　　Curiosity　induced　him　to　take
it；　and　Love；　to　wish　that　Antonia　might　appear。　　Matilda
pronounced　the　magic　words。　　Immediately；　a　thick　smoke　rose　from
the　characters　traced　upon　the　borders；　and　spread　itself　over
the　surface。　　It　dispersed　again　gradually；　A　confused　mixture　of
colours　and　images　presented　themselves　to　the　Friar's　eyes；
which　at　length　arranging　themselves　in　their　proper　places；　He
beheld　in　miniature　Antonia's　lovely　form。

The　scene　was　a　small　closet　belonging　to　her　apartment。　　She　was
undressing　to　bathe　herself。　　The　long　tresses　of　her　hair　were
already　bound　up。　　The　amorous　Monk　had　full　opportunity　to
observe　the　voluptuous　contours　and　admirable　symmetry　of　her
person。　　She　threw　off　her　last　garment；　and　advancing　to　the
Bath　prepared　for　her；　She　put　her　foot　into　the　water。　　It
struck　cold；　and　She　drew　it　back　again。　　Though　unconscious　of
being　observed；　an　inbred　sense　of　modesty　induced　her　to　veil
her　charms；　and　She　stood　hesitating　upon　the　brink；　in　the
attitude　of　the　Venus　de　Medicis。　At　this　moment　a　tame　Linnet
flew　towards　her；　nestled　its　head　between　her　breasts；　and
nibbled　them　in　wanton　play。　　The　smiling　Antonia　strove　in　vain
to　shake　off　the　Bird；　and　at　length　raised　her　hands　to　drive　it
from　its　delightful　harbour。　　Ambrosio　could　bear　no　more：　　His
desires　were　worked　up　to　phrenzy。

'I　yield！'　He　cried；　dashing　the　mirror　upon　the　ground：　
'Matilda；　I　follow　you！　　Do　with　me　what　you　will！'

She　waited　not　to　hear　his　consent　repeated。　　It　was　already
midnight。　　She　flew　to　her　Cell；　and　soon　returned　with　her
little　basket　and　the　Key　of　the　Cemetery；　which　had　remained　in
her　possession　since　her　first　visit　to　the　Vaults。　　She　gave　the
Monk　no　time　for　reflection。

'Come！'　She　said；　and　took　his　hand；　'Follow　me；　and　witness　the
effects　of　your　resolve！'

This　said；　She　drew　him　hastily　along。　　They　passed　into　the
Burying…ground　unobserved；　opened　the　door　of　the　Sepulchre；　and
found　themselves　at　the　head　of　the　subterraneous　Staircase。　　As
yet　the　beams　of　the　full　Moon　had　guided　their　steps；　but　that
resource　now　failed　them。　　Matilda　had　neglected　to　provide
herself　with　a　Lamp。　　Still　holding　Ambrosio's　hand　She　descended
the　marble　steps；　But　the　profound　obscurity　with　which　they　were
overspread　obliged　them　to　walk　slow　and　cautiously。

'You　tremble！'　said　Matilda　to　her　Companion；　'Fear　not；　The
destined　spot　is　near。'

They　reached　the　foot　of　the　Staircase；　and　continued　to
proceed；　feeling　their　way　along　the　Walls。　　On　turning　a　corner
suddenly；　they　descried　faint　gleams　of　light　which　seemed
burning　at　a　distance。　　Thither　they　bent　their　steps：　　The　rays
proceeded　from　a　small　sepulchral　Lamp　which　flamed　unceasingly
before　the　Statue　of　St。　Clare。　　It　tinged　with　dim　and　cheerless
beams　the　massy　Columns　which　supported　the　Roof；　but　was　too
feeble　to　dissipate　the　thick　gloom　in　which　the　Vaults　above
were　buried。

Matilda　took　the　Lamp。

'Wait　for　me！'　said　She　to　the　Friar；　'In　a　few　moments　I　am　here
again。'

With　these　words　She　hastened　into　one　of　the　passages　which
branched　in　various　directions　from　this　spot；　and　formed　a　sort
of　Labyrinth。　　Ambrosio　was　now　left　alone：　Darkness　the　most
profound　surrounded　him；　and　encouraged　the　doubts　which　began
to　revive　in　his　bosom。　　He　had　been　hurried　away　by　the　delirium
of　the　moment：　　The　shame　of　betraying　his　terrors；　while　in
Matilda's　presence；　had　induced　him　to　repress　them；　But　now　that
he　was　abandoned　to　himself；　they　resumed　their　former
ascendancy。　　He　trembled　at　the　scene　which　He　was　soon　to
witness。　　He　knew　not　how　far　the　delusions　of　Magic　might
operate　upon　his　mind；　and　possibly　might　force　him　to　some　deed
whose　commission　would　make　the　breach　between　himself　and　Heaven
irreparable。　　In　this　fearful　dilemma；　He　would　have　implored
God's　assistance；　but　was　conscious　that　He　had　forfeited　all
claim　to　such　protection。　　Gladly　would　He　have　returned　to　the
Abbey；　But　as　He　had　past　through　innumerable　Caverns　and　winding
passages；　the　attempt　of　regaining　the　Stairs　was　hopeless。　　His
fate　was　determined：　　No　possibility　of　escape　presented　itself：　
He　therefore　combated　his　apprehensions；　and　called　every
argument　to　his　succour；　which　might　enable　him　to　support　the
trying　scene　with　fortitude。　He　reflected　that　Antonia　would　be
the　reward　of　his　daring：　　He　inflamed　his　imagination　by
enumerating　her　charms。　　He　persuaded　himself　that　（as　Matilda
had　observed）；　He　always　should　have　time　sufficient　for
repentance；　and　that　as　He　employed　HER　assistance；　not　that　of
the　Daemons；　the　crime　of　Sorcery　could　not　be　laid　to　his
charge。　　He　had　read　much　respecting　witchcraft：　He　understood
that　unless　a　formal　Act　was　signed　renouncing　his　claim　to
salvation；　Satan　would　have　no　power　over　him。　　He　was　fully
determined　not　to　execute　any　such　act；　whatever　threats　might　be
used；　or　advantages　held　out　to　him。

Such　were　his　meditations　while　waiting　for　Matilda。　They　were
interrupted　by　a　low　murmur　which　seemed　at　no　great　distance
from　him。　　He　was　startled。　　He　listened。　　Some　minutes　past　in
silence；　after　which　the　murmur　was　repeated。　　It　appeared　to　be
the　groaning　of　one　in　pain。　　In　any　other　situation；　this
circumstance　would　only　have　excited　his　attention　and　curiosity：

In　the　present；　his　predominant　sensation　was　that　of　terror。　His
imagination　totally　engrossed　by　the　ideas　of　sorcery　and
Spirits；　He　fancied　that　some　unquiet　Ghost　was　wandering　near
him；　or　else　that　Matilda　had　fallen　a　Victim　to　her　presumption；
and　was　perishing　under　the　cruel　fangs　of　the　Daemons。　　The
noise　seemed　not　to　approach；　but　continued　to　be　heard　at
intervals。　　Sometimes　it　became　more　audible；　doubtless　as　the
sufferings　of　the　person　who　uttered　the　groans　became
more　acute　and　insupportable。　　Ambrosio　now　and　then　thought
that　He　could　distinguish　accents；　and　once　in　particular　He　was
almost　convinced　that　He　heard　a　faint　voice　exclaim；

'God！　　Oh！　　God！　　No　hope！　　No　succour！'

Yet　deeper　groans　followed　these　words。　　They　died　away
gradually；　and　universal　silence　again　prevailed。

'What　can　this　mean？'　thought　the　bewildered　Monk。

At　that　moment　an　idea　which　flashed　into　his　mind；　almost
petrified　him　with　horror。　　He　started；　and　shuddered　at　himself。

'Should　it　be　possible！'　He　groaned　involuntarily；　'Should　it　but
be　possible；　Oh！　what　a　Monster　am　I！'

He　wished　to　resolve　his　doubts；　and　to　repair　his　fault；　if　it
were　not　too　late　already：　　But　these　generous　and　compassionate
sentiments　were　soon　put　to　flight　by　the　return　of　Matilda。　　He
forgot　the　groaning　Sufferer；　and　remembered　nothing　but　the
danger　and　embarrassment　of　his　own　situation。　　The　light　of　the
returning　Lamp　gilded　the　walls；　and　in　a　few　moments　after
Matilda　stood　beside　him。　　She　had　quitted　her　religious　habit：　
She　was　now　cloathed　in　a　long　sable　Robe；　on　which　was　traced　in
gold　embroidery　a　variety　of　unknown　characters：　　It　was　fastened
by　a　girdle　of　precious　stones；　in　which　was　fixed　a　poignard。　
Her　neck　and　arms　were　uncovered。　　In　her　hand　She　bore　a　golden
wand。　　Her　hair　was　loose　and　flowed　wildly　upon　her　shoulders；
Her　eyes　sparkled　with　terrific　expression；　and　her　whole
Demeanour　was　calculated　to　inspire　the　beholder　with　awe　and
admiration。

'Follow　me！'　She　said　to　the　Monk　in　a　low　and　solemn　voice；　'All
is　ready！'

His　limbs　trembled；　while　He　obeyed　her。　　She　led　him　through
various　narrow　passages；　and　on　every　side　as　they　past　along；
the　beams　of　the　Lamp　displayed　none　but　the　most　revolting
objects；　Skulls；　Bones；　Graves；　and　Images　whose　eyes　seemed　to
glare　on　them　with　horror　and　surprize。　　At　length　they　reached　a
spacious　Cavern；　whose　lofty　roof　the　eye　sought　in　vain　to
discover。　　A　profound　obscurity　hovered　through　the　void。　　Damp
vapours　struck　cold　to　the　Friar's　heart；　and　He　listened　sadly
to　the　blast　while　it　howled　along　the　lonely　Vaults。　　Here
Matilda　stopped。　　She　turned　to　Ambrosio。　　His　cheeks　and　lips
were　pale　with　apprehension。　　By　a　glance　of　mingled　scorn　and
anger　She　reproved　his　pusillanimity；　but　She　spoke　not。　　She
placed　the　Lamp　upon　the　ground；　near　the　Basket。　　She　motioned
that　Ambrosio　should　be　silent；　and　began　the　mysterious　rites。　
She　drew　a　circle　round　him；　another　round　herself；　and　then
taking　a　small　Phial　from　the　Basket；　poured　a　few　drops　upon　the
ground　before