the monk(僧侣)-第5章

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Our　Hero　was　conscious　that　He　had　no　right　to　pry　into　the
secrets　of　this　unknown　Cavalier。

'I　will　go；'　said　Lorenzo。　　And　Lorenzo　stayed；　where　He　was。

The　shadow　thrown　by　the　Column；　effectually　concealed　him　from
the　Stranger；　who　continued　to　advance　with　caution。　　At　length
He　drew　a　letter　from　beneath　his　cloak；　and　hastily　placed　it
beneath　a　Colossal　Statue　of　St。　Francis。　　Then　retiring　with
precipitation；　He　concealed　himself　in　a　part　of　the　Church　at　a
considerable　distance　from　that　in　which　the　Image　stood。

'So！'　said　Lorenzo　to　himself；　'This　is　only　some　foolish　love
affair。　　I　believe；　I　may　as　well　be　gone；　for　I　can　do　no　good
in　it。'

In　truth　till　that　moment　it　never　came　into　his　head　that　He
could　do　any　good　in　it；　But　He　thought　it　necessary　to　make　some
little　excuse　to　himself　for　having　indulged　his　curiosity。　　He
now　made　a　second　attempt　to　retire　from　the　Church：　　For　this
time　He　gained　the　Porch　without　meeting　with　any　impediment；　But
it　was　destined　that　He　should　pay　it　another　visit　that　night。
As　He　descended　the　steps　leading　into　the　Street；　a　Cavalier
rushed　against　him　with　such　violence；　that　Both　were　nearly
overturned　by　the　concussion。　　Lorenzo　put　his　hand　to　his　sword。

'How　now；　Segnor？'　said　He；　'What　mean　you　by　this　rudeness？'

'Ha！　　Is　it　you；　Medina？'　replied　the　Newcomer；　whom　Lorenzo　by
his　voice　now　recognized　for　Don　Christoval；　'You　are　the
luckiest　Fellow　in　the　Universe；　not　to　have　left　the　Church
before　my　return。　　In；　in！　my　dear　Lad！　　They　will　be　here
immediately！'

'Who　will　be　here？'

'The　old　Hen　and　all　her　pretty　little　Chickens！　　In；　I　say；　and
then　you　shall　know　the　whole　History。'

Lorenzo　followed　him　into　the　Cathedral；　and　they　concealed
themselves　behind　the　Statue　of　St。　Francis。

'And　now；'　said　our　Hero；　'may　I　take　the　liberty　of　asking；　what
is　the　meaning　of　all　this　haste　and　rapture？'

'Oh！　Lorenzo；　we　shall　see　such　a　glorious　sight！　　The　Prioress
of　St。　Clare　and　her　whole　train　of　Nuns　are　coming　hither。　　You
are　to　know；　that　the　pious　Father　Ambrosio　（The　Lord　reward　him
for　it！）　will　upon　no　account　move　out　of　his　own　precincts：　　It
being　absolutely　necessary　for　every　fashionable　Convent　to　have
him　for　its　Confessor；　the　Nuns　are　in　consequence　obliged　to
visit　him　at　the　Abbey；　since　when　the　Mountain　will　not　come　to
Mahomet；　Mahomet　must　needs　go　to　the　Mountain。　　Now　the　Prioress
of　St。　Clare；　the　better　to　escape　the　gaze　of　such　impure　eyes
as　belong　to　yourself　and　your　humble　Servant；　thinks　proper　to
bring　her　holy　flock　to　confession　in　the　Dusk：　She　is　to　be
admitted　into　the　Abbey　Chapel　by　yon　private　door。　　The
Porteress　of　St。　Clare；　who　is　a　worthy　old　Soul　and　a　particular
Friend　of　mine；　has　just　assured　me　of　their　being　here　in　a　few
moments。　　There　is　news　for　you；　you　Rogue！　　We　shall　see　some　of
the　prettiest　faces　in　Madrid！'

'In　truth；　Christoval；　we　shall　do　no　such　thing。　　The　Nuns　are
always　veiled。'

'No！　　No！　　I　know　better。　　On　entering　a　place　of　worship；　they
ever　take　off　their　veils　from　respect　to　the　Saint　to　whom　'tis
dedicated。　　But　Hark！　　They　are　coming！　　Silence；　silence！　
Observe；　and　be　convinced。'

'Good！'　said　Lorenzo　to　himself；　'I　may　possibly　discover　to　whom
the　vows　are　addressed　of　this　mysterious　Stranger。'

Scarcely　had　Don　Christoval　ceased　to　speak；　when　the　Domina　of
St。　Clare　appeared；　followed　by　a　long　procession　of　Nuns。　　Each
upon　entering　the　Church　took　off　her　veil。　　The　Prioress　crossed
her　hands　upon　her　bosom；　and　made　a　profound　reverence　as　She
passed　the　Statue　of　St。　Francis；　the　Patron　of　this　Cathedral。
The　Nuns　followed　her　example；　and　several　moved　onwards　without
having　satisfied　Lorenzo's　curiosity。　　He　almost　began　to　despair
of　seeing　the　mystery　cleared　up；　when　in　paying　her　respects　to
St。　Francis；　one　of　the　Nuns　happened　to　drop　her　Rosary。　　As　She
stooped　to　pick　it　up；　the　light　flashed　full　upon　her　face。　　At
the　same　moment　She　dexterously　removed　the　letter　from　beneath
the　Image；　placed　it　in　her　bosom；　and　hastened　to　resume　her
rank　in　the　procession。

'Ha！'　said　Christoval　in　a　low　voice；　'Here　we　have　some　little
Intrigue；　no　doubt。'

'Agnes；　by　heaven！'　cried　Lorenzo。

'What；　your　Sister？　　Diavolo！　　Then　somebody；　I　suppose；　will
have　to　pay　for　our　peeping。'

'And　shall　pay　for　it　without　delay；'　replied　the　incensed
Brother。

The　pious　procession　had　now　entered　the　Abbey；　The　Door　was
already　closed　upon　it。　　The　Unknown　immediately　quitted　his
concealment　and　hastened　to　leave　the　Church：　　Ere　He　could
effect　his　intention；　He　descried　Medina　stationed　in　his
passage。　　The　Stranger　hastily　retreated；　and　drew　his　Hat　over
his　eyes。

'Attempt　not　to　fly　me！'　exclaimed　Lorenzo；　'I　will　know　who　you
are；　and　what　were　the　contents　of　that　Letter。'

'Of　that　Letter？'　repeated　the　Unknown。　　'And　by　what　title　do
you　ask　the　question？'

'By　a　title　of　which　I　am　now　ashamed；　But　it　becomes　not　you　to
question　me。　　Either　reply　circumstantially　to　my　demands；　or
answer　me　with　your　Sword。'

'The　latter　method　will　be　the　shortest；'　rejoined　the　Other；
drawing　his　Rapier；　'Come　on；　Segnor　Bravo！　I　am　ready！'

Burning　with　rage；　Lorenzo　hastened　to　the　attack：　The
Antagonists　had　already　exchanged　several　passes　before
Christoval；　who　at　that　moment　had　more　sense　than　either　of
them；　could　throw　himself　between　their　weapons。

'Hold！　　Hold！　　Medina！'　He　exclaimed；　'Remember　the　consequences
of　shedding　blood　on　consecrated　ground！'

The　Stranger　immediately　dropped　his　Sword。

'Medina？'　He　cried；　'Great　God；　is　it　possible！　Lorenzo；　have　you
quite　forgotten　Raymond　de　las　Cisternas？'

Lorenzo's　astonishment　increased　with　every　succeeding　moment。　
Raymond　advanced　towards　him；　but　with　a　look　of　suspicion　He
drew　back　his　hand；　which　the　Other　was　preparing　to　take。

'You　here；　Marquis？　　What　is　the　meaning　of　all　this？　　You
engaged　in　a　clandestine　correspondence　with　my　Sister；　whose
affections。　。　。　。'

'Have　ever　been；　and　still　are　mine。　　But　this　is　no　fit　place
for　an　explanation。　　Accompany　me　to　my　Hotel；　and　you　shall　know
every　thing。　　Who　is　that　with　you？'

'One　whom　I　believe　you　to　have　seen　before；'　replied　Don
Christoval；　'though　probably　not　at　Church。'

'The　Conde　d'Ossorio？'

'Exactly　so；　Marquis。'

'I　have　no　objection　to　entrusting　you　with　my　secret；　for　I　am
sure　that　I　may　depend　upon　your　silence。'

'Then　your　opinion　of　me　is　better　than　my　own；　and　therefore　I
must　beg　leave　to　decline　your　confidence。　Do　you　go　your　own
way；　and　I　shall　go　mine。　　Marquis；　where　are　you　to　be　found？'

'As　usual；　at　the　Hotel　de　las　Cisternas；　But　remember；　that　I　am
incognito；　and　that　if　you　wish　to　see　me；　you　must　ask　for
Alphonso　d'Alvarada。'

'Good！　　Good！　　Farewell；　Cavaliers！'　said　Don　Christoval；　and
instantly　departed。

'You；　Marquis；'　said　Lorenzo　in　the　accent　of　surprise；　'You；
Alphonso　d'Alvarada？'

'Even　so；　Lorenzo：　　But　unless　you　have　already　heard　my　story
from　your　Sister；　I　have　much　to　relate　that　will　astonish　you。　
Follow　me；　therefore；　to　my　Hotel　without　delay。'

At　this　moment　the　Porter　of　the　Capuchins　entered　the　Cathedral
to　lock　up　the　doors　for　the　night。　　The　two　Noblemen　instantly
withdrew；　and　hastened　with　all　speed　to　the　Palace　de　las
Cisternas。

'Well；　Antonia！'　said　the　Aunt；　as　soon　as　She　had　quitted　the
Church；　'What　think　you　of　our　Gallants？　　Don　Lorenzo　really
seems　a　very　obliging　good　sort　of　young　Man：　　He　paid　you　some
attention；　and　nobody　knows　what　may　come　of　it。　　But　as　to　Don
Christoval；　I　protest　to　you；　He　is　the　very　Phoenix　of
politeness。　　So　gallant！　so　well…bred！　　So　sensible；　and　so
pathetic！　　Well！　　If　ever　Man　can　prevail　upon　me　to　break　my　vow
never　to　marry；　it　will　be　that　Don　Christoval。　　You　see；　Niece；
that　every　thing　turns　out　exactly　as　I　told　you：　　The　very
moment　that　I　produced　myself　in　Madrid；　I　knew　that　I　should　be
surrounded　by　Admirers。　　When　I　took　off　my　veil；　did　you　see；
Antonia；　what　an　effect　the　action　had　upon　the　Conde？　　And　when
I　presented　him　my　hand；　did　you　observe　the　air　of　passion　with
which　He　kissed　it？　　If　ever　I　witnessed　real　love；　I　then　saw　it
impressed　upon　Don　Christoval's　countenance！'

Now　Antonia　had　observed　the　air；　with　which　Don　Christoval　had
kissed　this　same　hand；　But　as　She　drew　conclusions　from　it
somewhat　different　from　her　Aunt's；　She　was　wise　enough　to　hold
her　tongue。　　As　this　is　the　only　instance　known　of　a　Woman's　ever
having　done　so；　it　was　judged　worthy　to　be　recorded　here。

The　old　Lady　continued　her　discourse　to　Antonia　in　the　same
strain；　till　they　gained　the　Street　in　which　was　their　Lodging。　
Here　a　Crowd　collected　before　their　door　permitted　them　not　to
approach　it；　and　placing　themselves　on　the　opposite　side　of　the
Street；　they　endeavoured　to　make　out　what　had　drawn　all　these
people　together。　　After　some　minutes　the　Crowd　formed　itself　into
a　Circle；　And　now　Antonia　perceived　in　the　midst　of　it　a　Woman　of
extraordinary　height；　who　whirled　herself　repeatedly　round　and
round；　using　all　sorts　of　extravagant　gestures。　　Her　dress　was
composed　of　shreds　of　various…coloured　silks　and　Linens
fantastically　arranged；　yet　not　entirely　without　taste。　　Her　head
was　covered　with　a　kind　of　Turban；　ornamented　with　vine　leaves
and　wild　flowers。　　She　seemed　much　sun…burnt；　and　her　complexion
was　of　a　deep　olive：　　Her　eyes　looked　fiery　and　strange；　and　in
her　hand　She　bore　a　long　black　Rod；　with　which　She　at　intervals
traced　a　variety　of　singular　figures　upon　the　ground；　round　about
which　She　danced　in　all　the　eccentric　attitudes　of　folly　and
delirium。　　Suddenly　She　broke　off　her　dance；　whirled　herself
round　thrice　with　rapidity；　and　after　a　moment's　pause　She　sang
the　following　Ballad。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　GYPSY'S　SONG

　Come；　cross　my　hand！　　My　art　surpasses
　　　　All　that　did　ever　Mortal　know；　　
Come；　Maidens；　come！　My　magic　glasses
　　　　Your　future　Husband's　form　can　show：

　For　'tis　to　me　the　power　is　given
　　　　Unclosed　the　book　of　Fate　to　see；　　
　To　read　the　fixed　resolves　of　heaven；
　　　　And　dive　into　futurity。

　I　guide　the　pale　Moon's　silver　waggon；
　　　　The　winds　in　magic　bonds　I　hold；
　I　charm　to　sleep　the　crimson　Dragon；
　　　　Who　loves　to　watch　o'er　buried　gold：

　Fenced　round　with　spells；　unhurt　I　venture
　　　　Their　sabbath　strange　where　Witches　keep；
　Fearless　the　Sorcerer's　circle　enter；　　　　
　　　　And　woundless　tread　on　snakes　asleep。

　Lo！　Here　are　charms　of　mighty　power！
　　　　This　makes　secure　an　Husband's　truth
　And　this　composed　at　midnight　hour
　　　　Will　force　to　love　the　coldest　Youth：

　If　any　Maid　too　much　has　granted；
　　　　Her　loss　this　Philtre　will　repair；
　This　blooms　a　cheek　where　red　is　wanted；
　　　　And　this　will　make　a　brown　girl　fair！

　Then　silent　hear；　while　I　discover
　　　　What　I　in　Fortune's　mirror　view；
　And　each；　when　many　a　year　is　over；
　　　　Shall　own　the　Gypsy's　sayings　true。

'Dear　Aunt！'　said　Antonia　when　the　Stranger　had　finished；　'Is　She
not　mad？'

'Mad？　　Not　She；　Child；　She　is　only　wicked。　　She　is　a　Gypsy；　a
sort　of　Vagabond；　whose　sole　occu