the monk(僧侣)-第54章
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Palace d'Albornos。'
The Suppliant was no other than Antonia； and Leonella was her
Companion。 The Latter had not consented without difficulty to
accompany her Niece to the Abbey： Ambrosio had inspired her with
such awe that She trembled at the very sight of him。 Her fears
had conquered even her natural loquacity； and while in his
presence She uttered not a single syllable。
The Monk retired to his Cell； whither He was pursued by Antonia's
image。 He felt a thousand new emotions springing in his bosom；
and He trembled to examine into the cause which gave them birth。
They were totally different from those inspired by Matilda； when
She first declared her sex and her affection。 He felt not the
provocation of lust； No voluptuous desires rioted in his bosom；
Nor did a burning imagination picture to him the charms which
Modesty had veiled from his eyes。 On the contrary； what He now
felt was a mingled sentiment of tenderness； admiration； and
respect。 A soft and delicious melancholy infused itself into his
soul； and He would not have exchanged it for the most lively
transports of joy。 Society now disgusted him： He delighted in
solitude； which permitted his indulging the visions of Fancy：
His thoughts were all gentle； sad； and soothing； and the whole
wide world presented him with no other object than Antonia。
'Happy Man！' He exclaimed in his romantic enthusiasm； 'Happy Man；
who is destined to possess the heart of that lovely Girl！ What
delicacy in her features！ What elegance in her form！ How
enchanting was the timid innocence of her eyes； and how different
from the wanton expression； the wild luxurious fire which
sparkles in Matilda's！ Oh！ sweeter must one kiss be snatched
from the rosy lips of the First； than all the full and lustful
favours bestowed so freely by the Second。 Matilda gluts me with
enjoyment even to loathing； forces me to her arms； apes the
Harlot； and glories in her prostitution。 Disgusting！ Did She
know the inexpressible charm of Modesty； how irresistibly it
enthralls the heart of Man； how firmly it chains him to the
Throne of Beauty； She never would have thrown it off。 What would
be too dear a price for this lovely Girl's affections？ What
would I refuse to sacrifice； could I be released from my vows；
and permitted to declare my love in the sight of earth and
heaven？ While I strove to inspire her with tenderness； with
friendship and esteem； how tranquil and undisturbed would the
hours roll away！ Gracious God！ To see her blue downcast eyes
beam upon mine with timid fondness！ To sit for days； for years
listening to that gentle voice！ To acquire the right of obliging
her； and hear the artless expressions of her gratitude！ To watch
the emotions of her spotless heart！ To encourage each dawning
virtue！ To share in her joy when happy； to kiss away her tears
when distrest； and to see her fly to my arms for comfort and
support！ Yes； If there is perfect bliss on earth； 'tis his lot
alone； who becomes that Angel's Husband。'
While his fancy coined these ideas； He paced his Cell with a
disordered air。 His eyes were fixed upon vacancy： His head
reclined upon his shoulder； A tear rolled down his cheek； while
He reflected that the vision of happiness for him could never be
realized。
'She is lost to me！' He continued； 'By marriage She cannot be
mine： And to seduce such innocence； to use the confidence
reposed in me to work her ruin。 。 。 。 Oh！ it would be a crime；
blacker than yet the world ever witnessed！ Fear not； lovely
Girl！ Your virtue runs no risque from me。 Not for Indies would
I make that gentle bosom know the tortures of remorse。'
Again He paced his chamber hastily。 Then stopping； his eye fell
upon the picture of his once…admired Madona。 He tore it with
indignation from the wall： He threw it on the ground； and
spurned it from him with his foot。
'The Prostitute！'
Unfortunate Matilda！ Her Paramour forgot that for his sake alone
She had forfeited her claim to virtue； and his only reason for
despising her was that She had loved him much too well。
He threw himself into a Chair which stood near the Table。 He
saw the card with Elvira's address。 He took it up； and it
brought to his recollection his promise respecting a Confessor。
He passed a few minutes in doubt： But Antonia's Empire over him
was already too much decided to permit his making a long
resistance to the idea which struck him。 He resolved to be the
Confessor himself。 He could leave the Abbey unobserved without
difficulty： By wrapping up his head in his Cowl He hoped to pass
through the Streets without being recognised： By taking these
precautions； and by recommending secrecy to Elvira's family； He
doubted not to keep Madrid in ignorance that He had broken his
vow never to see the outside of the Abbey walls。 Matilda was the
only person whose vigilance He dreaded： But by informing her at
the Refectory that during the whole of that day； Business would
confine him to his Cell； He thought himself secure from her
wakeful jealousy。 Accordingly； at the hours when the Spaniards
are generally taking their Siesta； He ventured to quit the Abbey
by a private door； the Key of which was in his possession。 The
Cowl of his habit was thrown over his face： From the heat of the
weather the Streets were almost totally deserted： The Monk met
with few people； found the Strada di San Iago； and arrived
without accident at Donna Elvira's door。 He rang； was admitted；
and immediately ushered into an upper apartment。
It was here that He ran the greatest risque of a discovery。 Had
Leonella been at home； She would have recognized him directly：
Her communicative disposition would never have permitted her to
rest till all Madrid was informed that Ambrosio had ventured out
of the Abbey； and visited her Sister。 Fortune here stood the
Monk's Friend。 On Leonella's return home； She found a letter
instructing her that a Cousin was just dead； who had left what
little He possessed between Herself and Elvira。 To secure this
bequest She was obliged to set out for Cordova without losing a
moment。 Amidst all her foibles her heart was truly warm and
affectionate； and She was unwilling to quit her Sister in so
dangerous a state。 But Elvira insisted upon her taking the
journey； conscious that in her Daughter's forlorn situation no
increase of fortune； however trifling； ought to be neglected。
Accordingly； Leonella left Madrid； sincerely grieved at her
Sister's illness； and giving some few sighs to the memory of the
amiable but inconstant Don Christoval。 She was fully persuaded
that at first She had made a terrible breach in his heart： But
hearing nothing more of him； She supposed that He had quitted the
pursuit； disgusted by the lowness of her origin； and knowing upon
other terms than marriage He had nothing to hope from such a
Dragon of Virtue as She professed herself； Or else； that being
naturally capricious and changeable； the remembrance of her
charms had been effaced from the Conde's heart by those of some
newer Beauty。 Whatever was the cause of her losing him； She
lamented it sorely。 She strove in vain； as She assured every
body who was kind enough to listen to her； to tear his image from
her too susceptible heart。 She affected the airs of a lovesick
Virgin； and carried them all to the most ridiculous excess。 She
heaved lamentable sighs； walked with her arms folded； uttered
long soliloquies； and her discourse generally turned upon some
forsaken Maid who expired of a broken heart！ Her fiery locks
were always ornamented with a garland of willow； Every evening
She was seen straying upon the Banks of a rivulet by Moonlight；
and She declared herself a violent Admirer of murmuring Streams
and Nightingales；
'Of lonely haunts； and twilight Groves；
'Places which pale Passion loves！'
Such was the state of Leonella's mind； when obliged to quit
Madrid。 Elvira was out of patience at all these follies； and
endeavoured at persuading her to act like a reasonable Woman。
Her advice was thrown away： Leonella assured her at parting that
nothing could make her forget the perfidious Don Christoval。 In
this
