volume01-第11章
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Time has mellowed his sorrows; and healed those wounds which He bore with him to his solitude; think you that Content becomes his Companion? Ah! no; Rosario。 No longer sustained by the violence of his passions; He feels all the monotony of his way of living; and his heart becomes the prey of Ennui and weariness。 He looks round; and finds himself alone in the Universe: The love of society revives in his bosom; and He pants to return to that world which He has abandoned。 Nature loses all her charms in his eyes: No one is near him to point out her beauties; or share in his admiration of her excellence and variety。 Propped upon the fragment of some Rock; He gazes upon the tumbling waterfall with a vacant eye; He views without emotion the glory of the setting Sun。 Slowly He returns to his Cell at Evening; for no one there is anxious for his arrival; He has no comfort in his solitary unsavoury meal: He throws himself upon his couch of Moss despondent and dissatisfied; and wakes only to pass a day as joyless; as monotonous as the former。'
'You amaze me; Father! Suppose that circumstances condemned you to solitude; Would not the duties of Religion and the consciousness of a life well spent communicate to your heart that calm which。 。 。 。'
'I should deceive myself; did I fancy that they could。 I am convinced of the contrary; and that all my fortitude would not prevent me from yielding to melancholy and disgust。 After consuming the day in study; if you knew my pleasure at meeting my Brethren in the Evening! After passing many a long hour in solitude; if I could express to you the joy which I feel at once more beholding a fellow…Creature! 'Tis in this particular that I place the principal merit of a Monastic Institution。 It secludes Man from the temptations of Vice; It procures that leisure necessary for the proper service of the Supreme; It spares him the mortification of witnessing the crimes of the worldly; and yet permits him to enjoy the blessings of society。 And do you; Rosario; do YOU envy an Hermit's life? Can you be thus blind to the happiness of your situation? Reflect upon it for a moment。 This Abbey is become your Asylum: Your regularity; your gentleness; your talents have rendered you the object of universal esteem: You are secluded from the world which you profess to hate; yet you remain in possession of the benefits of society; and that a society composed of the most estimable of Mankind。'
'Father! Father! 'tis that which causes my Torment! Happy had it been for me; had my life been passed among the vicious and abandoned! Had I never heard pronounced the name of Virtue! 'Tis my unbounded adoration of religion; 'Tis my soul's exquisite sensibility of the beauty of fair and good; that loads me with shame! that hurries me to perdition! Oh! that I had never seen these Abbey walls!'
'How; Rosario? When we last conversed; you spoke in a different tone。 Is my friendship then become of such little consequence? Had you never seen these Abbey walls; you never had seen me: Can that really be your wish?'
'Had never seen you?' repeated the Novice; starting from the Bank; and grasping the Friar's hand with a frantic air; 'You? You? Would to God; that lightning had blasted them; before you ever met my eyes! Would to God! that I were never to see you more; and could forget that I had ever seen you!'
With these words He flew hastily from the Grotto。 Ambrosio remained in his former attitude; reflecting on the Youth's unaccountable behaviour。 He was inclined to suspect the derangement of his senses: yet the general tenor of his conduct; the connexion of his ideas; and calmness of his demeanour till the moment of his quitting the Grotto; seemed to discountenance this conjecture。 After a few minutes Rosario returned。 He again seated himself upon the Bank: He reclined his cheek upon one hand; and with the other wiped away the tears which trickled from his eyes at intervals。
The Monk looked upon him with compassion; and forbore to interrupt his meditations。 Both observed for some time a profound silence。 The Nightingale had now taken her station upon an Orange Tree fronting the Hermitage; and poured forth a strain the most melancholy and melodious。 Rosario raised his head; and listened to her with attention。
'It was thus;' said He; with a deep…drawn sigh; 'It was thus; that during the last month of her unhappy life; my Sister used to sit listening to the Nightingale。 Poor Matilda! She sleeps in the Grave; and her broken heart throbs no more with passion。'
'You had a Sister?'
'You say right; that I HAD; Alas! I have one no longer。 She sunk beneath the weight of her sorrows in the very spring of life。'
'What were those sorrows?'
'They will not excite YOUR pity: YOU know not the power of those irresistible; those fatal sentiments; to which her Heart was a prey。 Father; She loved unfortunately。 A passion for One endowed with every virtue; for a Man; Oh! rather let me say; for a divinity; proved the bane of her existence。 His noble form; his spotless character; his various talents; his wisdom solid; wonderful; and glorious; might have warmed the bosom of the most insensible。 My Sister saw him; and dared to love though She never dared to hope。'
'If her love was so well bestowed; what forbad her to hope the obtaining of its object?'
'Father; before He knew her; Julian had already plighted his vows to a Bride most fair; most heavenly! Yet still my Sister loved; and for the Husband's sake She doted upon the Wife。 One morning She found means to escape from our Father's House: Arrayed in humble weeds She offered herself as a Domestic to the Consort of her Beloved; and was accepted。 She was now continually in his presence: She strove to ingratiate herself into his favour: She succeeded。 Her attentions attracted Julian's notice; The virtuous are ever grateful; and He distinguished Matilda above the rest of her Companions。'
'And did not your Parents seek for her? Did they submit tamely to their loss; nor attempt to recover their wandering Daughter?'
'Ere they could find her; She discovered herself。 Her love grew too violent for concealment; Yet She wished not for Julian's person; She ambitioned but a share of his heart。 In an unguarded moment She confessed her affection。 What was the return? Doating upon his Wife; and believing that a look of pity bestowed upon another was a theft from what He owed to her; He drove Matilda from his presence。 He forbad her ever again appearing before him。 His severity broke her heart: She returned to her Father's; and in a few Months after was carried to her Grave。'
'Unhappy Girl! Surely her fate was too severe; and Julian was too cruel。'
'Do you think so; Father?' cried the Novice with vivacity; 'Do you think that He was cruel?'
'Doubtless I do; and pity her most sincerely。'
'You pity her? You pity her? Oh! Father! Father! Then pity me!'
The Friar started; when after a moment's pause Rosario added with a faltering voice;'for my sufferings are still greater。 My Sister had a Friend; a real Friend; who pitied the acuteness of her feelings; nor reproached her with her inability to repress them。 I 。 。 。! I have no Friend! The whole wide world cannot furnish an heart that is willing to participate in the sorrows of mine!'
As He uttered these words; He sobbed audibly。 The Friar was affected。 He took Rosario's hand; and pressed it with tenderness。
'You have no Friend; say you? What then am I? Why will you not confide in me; and what can you fear? My severity? Have I ever used it with you? The dignity of my habit? Rosario; I lay aside the Monk; and bid you consider me as no other than your Friend; your Father。 Well may I assume that title; for never did Parent watch over a Child more fondly than I have watched over you。 From the moment in which I first beheld you; I perceived sensations in my bosom till then unknown to me; I found a delight in your society which no one's else could afford; and when I witnessed the extent of your genius and information; I rejoiced as does a Father in the perfections of his Son。 Then lay aside your fears; Speak to me with openness: Speak to me; Rosario; and s