volume02-第17章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　of　heaven。　　He　trusted　easily　to　be　forgiven　so　slight　and　natural　a　deviation　from　his　vows：　　But　He　forgot　that　having　pronounced　those　vows；　Incontinence；　in　Laymen　the　most　venial　of　errors；　became　in　his　person　the　most　heinous　of　crimes。

Once　decided　upon　his　future　conduct；　his　mind　became　more　easy。　　He　threw　himself　upon　his　bed；　and　strove　by　sleeping　to　recruit　his　strength　exhausted　by　his　nocturnal　excesses。　　He　awoke　refreshed；　and　eager　for　a　repetition　of　his　pleasures。　　Obedient　to　Matilda's　order；　He　visited　not　her　Cell　during　the　day。　　Father　Pablos　mentioned　in　the　Refectory　that　Rosario　had　at　length　been　prevailed　upon　to　follow　his　prescription；　But　that　the　medicine　had　not　produced　the　slightest　effect；　and　that　He　believed　no　mortal　skill　could　rescue　him　from　the　Grave。　　With　this　opinion　the　Abbot　agreed；　and　affected　to　lament　the　untimely　fate　of　a　Youth；　whose　talents　had　appeared　so　promising。

The　night　arrived。　　Ambrosio　had　taken　care　to　procure　from　the　Porter　the　Key　of　the　low　door　opening　into　the　Cemetery。　　Furnished　with　this；　when　all　was　silent　in　the　Monastery；　He　quitted　his　Cell；　and　hastened　to　Matilda's。　　She　had　left　her　bed；　and　was　drest　before　his　arrival。

'I　have　been　expecting　you　with　impatience；'　said　She；　'My　life　depends　upon　these　moments。　　Have　you　the　Key？'

'I　have。'

'Away　then　to　the　garden。　　We　have　no　time　to　lose。　Follow　me！'

She　took　a　small　covered　Basket　from　the　Table。　Bearing　this　in　one　hand；　and　the　Lamp；　which　was　flaming　upon　the　Hearth；　in　the　other；　She　hastened　from　the　Cell。　　Ambrosio　followed　her。　　Both　maintained　a　profound　silence。　　She　moved　on　with　quick　but　cautious　steps；　passed　through　the　Cloisters；　and　reached　the　Western　side　of　the　Garden。　　Her　eyes　flashed　with　a　fire　and　wildness　which　impressed　the　Monk　at　once　with　awe　and　horror。　　A　determined　desperate　courage　reigned　upon　her　brow。　　She　gave　the　Lamp　to　Ambrosio；　Then　taking　from　him　the　Key；　She　unlocked　the　low　Door；　and　entered　the　Cemetery。　　It　was　a　vast　and　spacious　Square　planted　with　yew　trees：　　Half　of　it　belonged　to　the　Abbey；　The　other　half　was　the　property　of　the　Sisterhood　of　St。　Clare；　and　was　protected　by　a　roof　of　Stone。　　The　Division　was　marked　by　an　iron　railing；　the　wicket　of　which　was　generally　left　unlocked。

Thither　Matilda　bent　her　course。　　She　opened　the　wicket　and　sought　for　the　door　leading　to　the　subterraneous　Vaults；　where　reposed　the　mouldering　Bodies　of　the　Votaries　of　St。　Clare。　　The　night　was　perfectly　dark；　Neither　Moon　or　Stars　were　visible。　　Luckily　there　was　not　a　breath　of　Wind；　and　the　Friar　bore　his　Lamp　in　full　security：　　By　the　assistance　of　its　beams；　the　door　of　the　Sepulchre　was　soon　discovered。　　It　was　sunk　within　the　hollow　of　a　wall；　and　almost　concealed　by　thick　festoons　of　ivy　hanging　over　it。　　Three　steps　of　rough…hewn　Stone　conducted　to　it；　and　Matilda　was　on　the　point　of　descending　them　when　She　suddenly　started　back。

'There　are　People　in　the　Vaults！'　She　whispered　to　the　Monk；　'Conceal　yourself　till　they　are　past。

She　took　refuge　behind　a　lofty　and　magnificent　Tomb；　erected　in　honour　of　the　Convent's　Foundress。　　Ambrosio　followed　her　example；　carefully　hiding　his　Lamp　lest　its　beams　should　betray　them。　　But　a　few　moments　had　elapsed　when　the　Door　was　pushed　open　leading　to　the　subterraneous　Caverns。　　Rays　of　light　proceeded　up　the　Staircase：　　They　enabled　the　concealed　Spectators　to　observe　two　Females　drest　in　religious　habits；　who　seemed　engaged　in　earnest　conversation。　　The　Abbot　had　no　difficulty　to　recognize　the　Prioress　of　St。　Clare　in　the　first；　and　one　of　the　elder　Nuns　in　her　Companion。

'Every　thing　is　prepared；'　said　the　Prioress；　'Her　fate　shall　be　decided　tomorrow。　　All　her　tears　and　sighs　will　be　unavailing。　　No！　　In　five　and　twenty　years　that　I　have　been　Superior　of　this　Convent；　never　did　I　witness　a　transaction　more　infamous！'

'You　must　expect　much　opposition　to　your　will；'　the　Other　replied　in　a　milder　voice；　'Agnes　has　many　Friends　in　the　Convent；　and　in　particular　the　Mother　St。　Ursula　will　espouse　her　cause　most　warmly。　　In　truth；　She　merits　to　have　Friends；　and　I　wish　I　could　prevail　upon　you　to　consider　her　youth；　and　her　peculiar　situation。　　She　seems　sensible　of　her　fault；　The　excess　of　her　grief　proves　her　penitence；　and　I　am　convinced　that　her　tears　flow　more　from　contrition　than　fear　of　punishment。　　Reverend　Mother；　would　you　be　persuaded　to　mitigate　the　severity　of　your　sentence；　would　you　but　deign　to　overlook　this　first　transgression；　I　offer　myself　as　the　pledge　of　her　future　conduct。'

'Overlook　it；　say　you？　　Mother　Camilla；　you　amaze　me！　　What？　　After　disgracing　me　in　the　presence　of　Madrid's　Idol；　of　the　very　Man　on　whom　I　most　wished　to　impress　an　idea　of　the　strictness　of　my　discipline？　　How　despicable　must　I　have　appeared　to　the　reverend　Abbot！　　No；　Mother；　No！　I　never　can　forgive　the　insult。　I　cannot　better　convince　Ambrosio　that　I　abhor　such　crimes；　than　by　punishing　that　of　Agnes　with　all　the　rigour　of　which　our　severe　laws　admit。　　Cease　then　your　supplications；　They　will　all　be　unavailing。　　My　resolution　is　taken：　　Tomorrow　Agnes　shall　be　made　a　terrible　example　of　my　justice　and　resentment。'

The　Mother　Camilla　seemed　not　to　give　up　the　point；　but　by　this　time　the　Nuns　were　out　of　hearing。　　The　Prioress　unlocked　the　door　which　communicated　with　St。　Clare's　Chapel；　and　having　entered　with　her　Companion；　closed　it　again　after　them。

Matilda　now　asked；　who　was　this　Agnes　with　whom　the　Prioress　was　thus　incensed；　and　what　connexion　She　could　have　with　Ambrosio。　　He　related　her　adventure；　and　He　added；　that　since　that　time　his　ideas　having　undergone　a　thorough　revolution；　He　now　felt　much　compassion　for　the　unfortunate　Nun。

'I　design；'　said　He；　'to　request　an　audience　of　the　Domina　tomorrow；　and　use　every　means　of　obtaining　a　mitigation　of　her　sentence。'

'Beware　of　what　you　do！'　interrupted　Matilda；　'Your　sudden　change　of　sentiment　may　naturally　create　surprize；　and　may　give　birth　to　suspicions　which　it　is　most　our　interest　to　avoid。　　Rather；　redouble　your　outward　austerity；　and　thunder　out　menaces　against　the　errors　of　others；　the　better　to　conceal　your　own。　　Abandon　the　Nun　to　her　fate。　　Your　interfering　might　be　dangerous；　and　her　imprudence　merits　to　be　punished：　　She　is　unworthy　to　enjoy　Love's　pleasures；　who　has　not　wit　enough　to　conceal　them。　　But　in　discussing　this　trifling　subject　I　waste　moments　which　are　precious。　　The　night　flies　apace；　and　much　must　be　done　before　morning。　　The　Nuns　are　retired；　All　is　safe。　　Give　me　the　Lamp；　Ambrosio。　I　must　descend　alone　into　these　Caverns：　　Wait　here；　and　if　any　one　approaches；　warn　me　by　your　voice；　But　as　you　value　your　existence；　presume　not　to　follow　me。　　Your　life　would　fall　a　victim　to　your　imprudent　curiosity。'

Thus　saying　She　advanced　towards　the　Sepulchre；　still　holding　her　Lamp　in　one　hand；　and　her　little　Basket　in　the　other。　　She　touched　the　door：　　It　turned　slowly　upon　its　grating　hinges；　and　a　narrow　winding　staircase　of　black　marble　presented　itself　to　her　eyes。　　She　descended　it。　　Ambrosio　remained　above；　watching　the　faint　beams　of　the　Lamp　as　they　still　proceeded　up　the　stairs。　　They　disappeared；　and　He　found　himself　in　total　darkness。

Left　to　himself　He　could　not　reflect　without　surprize　on　the　sudden　change　in　Matilda's　character　and　sentiments。　　But　a　few　days　had　past　since　She　appeared　the　mildest　and　softest　of　her　sex；　devoted　to　his　will；　and　looking　up　to　him　as　to　a　superior　Being。　　Now　She　assumed　a　sort　of　courage　and　manliness　in　her　manners　and　discourse　but　ill…calculated　to　please　him。　　She　spoke　no　longer　to　insinuate；　but　command：　　He　found　himself　unable　to　cope　with　her　in　argument；　and　was　unwillingly　obliged　to　confess　the　superiority　of　her　judgment。　　Every　moment　convinced　him　of　the　astonishing　powers　of　her　mind：　　But　what　She　gained　in　the　opinion　of　the　Man；　She　lost　with　interest　in　the　affection　of　the　Lover。　　He　regretted　Rosario；　the　fond；　the　gentle；　and　submissive：　　He　grieved　that　Matilda　preferred　the　virtues　of　his　sex　to　those　of　her　own；　and　when　He　thought　of　her　expressions　respecting　the　devoted　Nun；　He　could　not　help　blaming　them　as　cruel　and　unfeminine。　　Pity　is　a　sentiment　so　natural；　so　appropriate　to　the　female　character；　that　it　is　scarcely　a　merit　for　a　Woman　to　possess　it；　but　to　be　without　it　is　a　grievous　crime。　　Ambrosio　could　not　easily　forgive　his　Mistress　for　being　deficient　in　this　amiable　quality。　　However；　though　he　blamed　her　insensibility；　He　felt　the　truth　of　her　observations；　and　though　He　pitied　sincerely　the　unfortunate　Agnes；　He　resolved　to　drop　the　idea　of　interposing　in　her　behalf。

Near　an　hour　had　elapsed；　since　Matilda　descended　into　the　Caverns；　Still　She　returned　not。　　Ambrosio's　curiosity　was　excited。　　He　drew　near　the　Staircase。　　He　listened。　　All　was　silent；　except　that　at　intervals　He　caught　the　sound　of　Matilda's　voice；　as　it　wound　along　the　subteraneous　passages；　and　was　re…echoed　by　the　Sepulchre's　vaulted　roofs。　　She　was　at　too　great　a　distance　for　him　to　distinguish　her　words；　and　ere　they　reached　him　they　were　deadened　into　a　low　murmur。　　He　longed　to　penetrate　into　this　mystery。　　He　resolved　to　disobey　her　injunctions　and　follow　her　into　the　Cavern。　　He　advanced　to　the　Staircase；　He　had　already　descended　some　steps　when　his　courage　failed　him。　　He　remembered　Matilda's　menaces　if　He　infringed　her　orders；　and　his　bosom　was　filled　with　a　secret　unaccountable　awe。　　He　returned　up　the　stairs；　resumed　his　former　station；　and　waited　impatiently　for　the　conclusion　of　this　adventure。

Suddenly　He　was　sensible　of　a　violent　shock：　　An　earthquake　rocked　the　ground。　　The　Columns　which　supported　the　roof　under　which　He　stood　were　so　strongly　shaken；　that　every　moment　menaced　him　with　its　fall；　and　at　the　same　moment　He　heard　a　loud　and　tremendous　burst　of　thunder。　　It　ceased；　and　his　eyes　being　fixed　upon　the　Staircase；　He　saw　a　bright　column　of　light　flash　along　the　Caverns　beneath。　　It　was　seen　but　for　an　instant。　　No　sooner　did　it　disappear；　than　all　was　once　more　quiet　and　obscure。　　Profound　Darkness　again　surrounded　him；　and　the　silence　of　night　was　only　broken　by　the　whirring　Bat；　as　She　flitted　slowly　by　him。

With　every　instant　Ambrosio's　amazement　increased。　　Another　hour　elapsed；　after　which　the　same　light　again　appeared　and　was　lost　again　as　suddenly。　　It　was　accompanied　by　a　strain　of　sweet　but　solemn　Music；　which　as　it　stole　through　the　Vaults　below；　inspired　the　Monk　with　mingled　delight　and　terror。　　It　had　not　long　been　hushed；　when　He　heard　Matilda's　steps　upon　the　Staircase。　　She　ascended　from　the　Cavern；　The　most　lively　joy　animated　her　beautiful　features。

'Did　you　see　any　thing？'　She　asked。

'Twice　I　saw　a　column　of　light　flash　up　the　Staircase。'

'Nothing　else？'

'Nothing。'

'The　Morning　is　on　the　point　of　breaking。　　Let　us　retire　to　the　Abbey；　lest　daylight　should　betray　us。'

With　a　light　step　She　hastened　from　the　burying…ground。　　She　regained　her　Cell；　and　the　curious　Abbot　still　accompanied　her。　　She　closed　the　door；　and　disembarrassed　herself　of　her　Lamp　and　Basket。

'I　have　succeeded！'　She　cried；　throwing　herself　upon　his　bosom：　　'Succeeded　beyond　my　fondest　hopes！　　I　shall　live；