the monk(僧侣)-第48章

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papers；　Medina　hastened　back　to　Madrid；　which　He　reached　on　the
Friday　a　few　hours　before　dark。　　He　found　the　Marquis　somewhat
easier；　but　so　weak　and　exhausted　that　without　great　exertion　He
could　neither　speak　or　more。　Having　past　an　hour　by　his　Bedside；
Lorenzo　left　him　to　communicate　his　design　to　his　Uncle；　as　also
to　give　Don　Ramirez　de　Mello　the　Cardinal's　letter。　　The　First
was　petrified　with　horror　when　He　learnt　the　fate　of　his　unhappy
Niece：　　He　encouraged　Lorenzo　to　punish　her　Assassins；　and
engaged　to　accompany　him　at　night　to　St。　Clare's　Convent。　　Don
Ramirez　promised　his　firmest　support；　and　selected　a　band　of
trusty　Archers　to　prevent　opposition　on　the　part　of　the　Populace。

But　while　Lorenzo　was　anxious　to　unmask　one　religious　Hypocrite；
He　was　unconscious　of　the　sorrows　prepared　for　him　by　Another。　
Aided　by　Matilda's　infernal　Agents；　Ambrosio　had　resolved　upon
the　innocent　Antonia's　ruin。　　The　moment　destined　to　be　so　fatal
to　her　arrived。　　She　had　taken　leave　of　her　Mother　for　the　night。

As　She　kissed　her；　She　felt　an　unusual　despondency　infuse　itself
into　her　bosom。　　She　left　her；　and　returned　to　her　instantly；
threw　herself　into　her　maternal　arms；　and　bathed　her　cheek　with
tears：　　She　felt　uneasy　at　quitting　her；　and　a　secret
presentiment　assured　her　that　never　must　they　meet　again。　　Elvira
observed；　and　tried　to　laugh　her　out　of　this　childish　prejudice：　
She　chid　her　mildly　for　encouraging　such　ungrounded　sadness；　and
warned　her　how　dangerous　it　was　to　encourage　such　ideas。

To　all　her　remonstrances　She　received　no　other　answer　than；

'Mother！　Dear　Mother！　Oh！　would　to　God；　it　were　Morning！'

Elvira；　whose　inquietude　respecting　her　Daughter　was　a　great
obstacle　to　her　perfect　reestablishment；　was　still　labouring
under　the　effects　of　her　late　severe　illness。　　She　was　this
Evening　more　than　usually　indisposed；　and　retired　to　bed　before
her　accustomed　hour。　　Antonia　withdrew　from　her　Mother's　chamber
with　regret；　and　till　the　Door　closed；　kept　her　eyes　fixed　upon
her　with　melancholy　expression。　　She　retired　to　her　own
apartment；　Her　heart　was　filled　with　bitterness：　　It　seemed　to
her　that　all　her　prospects　were　blasted；　and　the　world　contained
nothing　for　which　it　was　worth　existing。　　She　sank　into　a　Chair；
reclined　her　head　upon　her　arm；　and　gazed　upon　the　floor　with　a
vacant　stare；　while　the　most　gloomy　images　floated　before　her
fancy。　　She　was　still　in　this　state　of　insensibility　when　She
was　disturbed　by　hearing　a　strain　of　soft　Music　breathed　beneath
her　window。　　She　rose；　drew　near　the　Casement；　and　opened　it　to
hear　it　more　distinctly。　　Having　thrown　her　veil　over　her　face；
She　ventured　to　look　out。　　By　the　light　of　the　Moon　She　perceived
several　Men　below　with　Guitars　and　Lutes　in　their　hands；　and　at　a
little　distance　from　them　stood　Another　wrapped　in　his　cloak；
whose　stature　and　appearance　bore　a　strong　resemblance　to
Lorenzo's。　　She　was　not　deceived　in　this　conjecture。　　It　was
indeed　Lorenzo　himself；　who　bound　by　his　word　not　to　present
himself　to　Antonia　without　his　Uncle's　consent；　endeavoured　by
occasional　Serenades；　to　convince　his　Mistress　that　his
attachment　still　existed。　　His　stratagem　had　not　the　desired
effect。　　Antonia　was　far　from　supposing　that　this　nightly　music
was　intended　as　a　compliment　to　her：　She　was　too　modest　to　think
herself　worthy　such　attentions；　and　concluding　them　to　be
addressed　to　some　neighbouring　Lady；　She　grieved　to　find　that
they　were　offered　by　Lorenzo。

The　air　which　was　played；　was　plaintive　and　melodious。　It
accorded　with　the　state　of　Antonia's　mind；　and　She　listened　with
pleasure。　　After　a　symphony　of　some　length；　it　was　succeeded　by
the　sound　of　voices；　and　Antonia　distinguished　the　following
words。

SERENADE

　　　　　　Chorus

Oh！　Breathe　in　gentle　strain；　my　Lyre！　　
'Tis　here　that　Beauty　loves　to　rest：　　
Describe　the　pangs　of　fond　desire；　　
Which　rend　a　faithful　Lover's　breast。

　　　　　　Song　　

In　every　heart　to　find　a　Slave；　　
In　every　Soul　to　fix　his　reign；　　
In　bonds　to　lead　the　wise　and　brave；　　
And　make　the　Captives　kiss　his　chain；　　
Such　is　the　power　of　Love；　and　Oh！　　
I　grieve　so　well　Love's　power　to　know。

In　sighs　to　pass　the　live…long　day；　　
To　taste　a　short　and　broken　sleep；　　
For　one　dear　Object　far　away；　　
All　others　scorned；　to　watch　and　weep；　　
Such　are　the　pains　of　Love；　and　Oh！　　
I　grieve　so　well　Love's　pains　to　know！

To　read　consent　in　virgin　eyes；　　
To　press　the　lip　ne'er　prest　till　then　　
To　hear　the　sigh　of　transport　rise；　　
And　kiss；　and　kiss；　and　kiss　again；　　
Such　are　thy　pleasures；　Love；　But　Oh！　
When　shall　my　heart　thy　pleasures　know？

　　　　　　Chorus

Now　hush；　my　Lyre！　　My　voice　be　still！　　
Sleep；　gentle　Maid！　　May　fond　desire　　
With　amorous　thoughts　thy　visions　fill；　　
Though　still　my　voice；　and　hushed　my　Lyre。

The　Music　ceased：　　The　Performers　dispersed；　and　silence
prevailed　through　the　Street。　　Antonia　quitted　the　window　with
regret：　　She　as　usual　recommended　herself　to　the　protection　of
St。　Rosolia；　said　her　accustomed　prayers；　and　retired　to　bed。　
Sleep　was　not　long　absent；　and　his　presence　relieved　her　from　her
terrors　and　inquietude

It　was　almost　two　o'clock　before　the　lustful　Monk　ventured　to
bend　his　steps　towards　Antonia's　dwelling。　　It　has　been　already
mentioned　that　the　Abbey　was　at　no　great　distance　from　the
Strada　di　San　Iago。　　He　reached　the　House　unobserved。　　Here　He
stopped；　and　hesitated　for　a　moment。　　He　reflected　on　the
enormity　of　the　crime；　the　consequences　of　a　discovery；　and　the
probability；　after　what　had　passed；　of　Elvira's　suspecting　him　to
be　her　Daughter's　Ravisher：　　On　the　other　hand　it　was　suggested
that　She　could　do　no　more　than　suspect；　that　no　proofs　of　his
guilt　could　be　produced；　that　it　would　seem　impossible　for　the
rape　to　have　been　committed　without　Antonia's　knowing　when；
where；　or　by　whom；　and　finally；　He　believed　that　his　fame　was　too
firmly　established　to　be　shaken　by　the　unsupported　accusations　of
two　unknown　Women。　　This　latter　argument　was　perfectly　false：　　He
knew　not　how　uncertain　is　the　air　of　popular　applause；　and　that　a
moment　suffices　to　make　him　today　the　detestation　of　the　world；
who　yesterday　was　its　Idol。　　The　result　of　the　Monk's
deliberations　was　that　He　should　proceed　in　his　enterprize。　　He
ascended　the　steps　leading　to　the　House。　　No　sooner　did　He　touch
the　door　with　the　silver　Myrtle；　than　it　flew　open；　and　presented
him　with　a　free　passage。　　He　entered；　and　the　door　closed　after
him　of　its　own　accord。

Guided　by　the　moonbeams；　He　proceeded　up　the　Staircase　with
slow　and　cautious　steps。　　He　looked　round　him　every　moment　with
apprehension　and　anxiety。　　He　saw　a　Spy　in　every　shadow；　and
heard　a　voice　in　every　murmur　of　the　night　breeze。　　Consciousness
of　the　guilty　business　on　which　He　was　employed　appalled　his
heart；　and　rendered　it　more　timid　than　a　Woman's。　　Yet　still　He
proceeded。　　He　reached　the　door　of　Antonia's　chamber。　He　stopped；
and　listened。　　All　was　hushed　within。　　The　total　silence
persuaded　him　that　his　intended　Victim　was　retired　to　rest；　and
He　ventured　to　lift　up　the　Latch。　　The　door　was　fastened；　and
resisted　his　efforts：　　But　no　sooner　was　it　touched　by　the
Talisman；　than　the　Bolt　flew　back。　The　Ravisher　stept　on；　and
found　himself　in　the　chamber；　where　slept　the　innocent　Girl；
unconscious　how　dangerous　a　Visitor　was　drawing　near　her　Couch。　
The　door　closed　after　him；　and　the　Bolt　shot　again　into　its
fastening。

Ambrosio　advanced　with　precaution。　　He　took　care　that　not　a　board
should　creak　under　his　foot；　and　held　in　his　breath　as　He
approached　the　Bed。　　His　first　attention　was　to　perform　the　magic
ceremony；　as　Matilda　had　charged　him：　　He　breathed　thrice　upon
the　silver　Myrtle；　pronounced　over　it　Antonia's　name；　and　laid　it
upon　her　pillow。　　The　effects　which　it　had　already　produced
permitted　not　his　doubting　its　success　in　prolonging　the　slumbers
of　his　devoted　Mistress。　　No　sooner　was　the　enchantment
performed　than　He　considered　her　to　be　absolutely　in　his　power；
and　his　eyes　flamed　with　lust　and　impatience。　　He　now　ventured　to
cast　a　glance　upon　the　sleeping　Beauty。　　A　single　Lamp；　burning
before　the　Statue　of　St。　Rosolia；　shed　a　faint　light　through　the
room；　and　permitted　him　to　examine　all　the　charms　of　the　lovely
Object　before　him。　　The　heat　of　the　weather　had　obliged　her　to
throw　off　part　of　the　Bed…cloathes：　　Those　which　still　covered
her；　Ambrosio's　insolent　hand　hastened　to　remove。　　She　lay　with
her　cheek　reclining　upon　one　ivory　arm；　The　Other　rested　on　the
side　of　the　Bed　with　graceful　indolence。　　A　few　tresses　of　her
hair　had　escaped　from　beneath　the　Muslin　which　confined　the　rest；
and　fell　carelessly　over　her　bosom；　as　it　heaved　with　slow　and
regular　suspiration。　　The　warm　air　had　spread　her　cheek　with
higher　colour　than　usual。　　A　smile　inexpressibly　sweet　played
round　her　ripe　and　coral　lips；　from　which　every　now　and　then
escaped　a　gentle　sigh　or　an　half…pronounced　sentence。　　An　air　of
enchanting　innocence　and　candour　pervaded　her　whole　form；　and
there　was　a　sort　of　modesty　in　her　very　nakedness　which　added
fresh　stings　to　the　desires　of　the　lustful　Monk。

He　remained　for　some　moments　devouring　those　charms　with　his
eyes　which　soon　were　to　be　subjected　to　his　ill…regulated
passions。　　Her　mouth　half…opened　seemed　to　solicit　a　kiss：　　He
bent　over　her；　he　joined　his　lips　to　hers；　and　drew　in　the
fragrance　of　her　breath　with　rapture。　　This　momentary　pleasure
increased　his　longing　for　still　greater。　　His　desires　were　raised
to　that　frantic　height　by　which　Brutes　are　agitated。　　He
resolved　not　to　delay　for　one　instant　longer　the　accomplishment
of　his　wishes；　and　hastily　proceeded　to　tear　off　those　garments　
which　impeded　the　gratification　of　his　lust。

'Gracious　God！'　exclaimed　a　voice　behind　him；　'Am　I　not　deceived？

Is　not　this　an　illusion？'

Terror；　confusion；　and　disappointment　accompanied　these　words；　as
they　struck　Ambrosio's　hearing。　　He　started；　and　turned　towards
it。　　Elvira　stood　at　the　door　of　the　chamber；　and　regarded　the
Monk　with　looks　of　surprize　and　detestation。

A　frightful　dream　had　represented　to　her　Antonia　on　the　verge　of
a　precipice。　　She　saw　her　trembling　on　the　brink：　　Every　moment
seemed　to　threaten　her　fall；　and　She　heard　her　exclaim　with
shrieks；　'Save　me；　Mother！　Save　me！Yet　a　moment；　and　it　will　be
too　late！'　　Elvira　woke　in　terror。　　The　vision　had　made　too
strong　an　impression　upon　her　mind；　to　permit　her　resting　till
assured　of　her　Daughter's　safety。　　She　hastily　started　from　her
Bed；　threw　on　a　loose　night…gown；　and　passing　through　the　Closet
in　which　slept　the　Waiting…woman；　She　reached　Antonia's　chamber
just　in　time　to　rescue　her　from　the　grasp　of　the　Ravisher。

His　shame　and　her　amazement　seemed　to　have　petrified　into　Statues
both　Elvira　and　the　Monk：　　They　remained　gazing　upon　each　other
in　silence。　　The　Lady　was　the　first　to　recover　herself。

'It　is　no　dream！'　　She　cried；　'It　is　really　Ambrosio；　who　stands
before　me！　　It　is　the　Man　whom　Madrid　esteems　a　Saint；　that　I
find　at　this　late　hour　near　the　Couch　of　my　unhappy　Child！　
Monster　of　Hypocrisy！　　I　already　suspected　your　designs；　but
forbore　your　accusation　in