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THE MONK
A ROMANCE
by
MATTHEW LEWIS
Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas, Nocturnos lemures, portentaque. Horat.
Dreams, magic terrors, spells of mighty power, Witches, and ghosts who rove at midnight hour.
PREFACE
IMITATION OF HORACE Ep. 20.--B. 1.
Methinks, Oh! vain ill-judging Book, I see thee cast a wishful look, Where reputations won and lost are In famous row called Paternoster. Incensed to find your precious olio Buried in unexplored port-folio, You scorn the prudent lock and key, And pant well bound and gilt to see Your Volume in the window set Of Stockdale, Hookham, or Debrett.
Go then, and pass that dangerous bourn Whence never Book can back return: And when you find, condemned, despised, Neglected, blamed, and criticised, Abuse from All who read you fall, (If haply you be read at all Sorely will you your folly sigh at, And wish for me, and home, and quiet.
Assuming now a conjuror's office, I Thus on your future Fortune prophesy:-- Soon as your novelty is o'er, And you are young and new no more, In some dark dirty corner thrown, Mouldy with damps, with cobwebs strown, Your leaves shall be the Book-worm's prey; Or sent to Chandler-Shop away, And doomed to suffer public scandal, Shall line the trunk, or wrap the candle!
But should you meet with approbation, And some one find an inclination To ask, by natural transition Respecting me and my condition; That I am one, the enquirer teach, Nor very poor, nor very rich; Of passions strong, of hasty nature, Of graceless form and dwarfish stature; By few approved, and few approving; Extreme in hating and in loving;
Abhorring all whom I dislike, Adoring who my fancy strike; In forming judgements never long, And for the most part judging wrong; In friendship firm, but still believing Others are treacherous and deceiving, And thinking in the present aera That Friendship is a pure chimaera: More passionate no creature living, Proud, obstinate, and unforgiving, But yet for those who kindness show, Ready through fire and smoke to go.
Again, should it be asked your page, 'Pray, what may be the author's age?' Your faults, no doubt, will make it clear, I scarce have seen my twentieth year, Which passed, kind Reader, on my word, While England's Throne held George the Third.
Now then your venturous course pursue: Go, my delight! Dear Book, adieu!
Hague, Oct. 28, 1794. M. G. L.
ADVERTISEMENT
The first idea of this Romance was suggested by the story of the SantonBarsisa, related in The Guardian.--The Bleeding Nun is a traditionstill credited in many parts of Germany; and I have been told that theruins of the Castle of Lauenstein, which She is supposed to haunt, mayyet be seen upon the borders of Thuringia.--The Water-King, from thethird to the twelfth stanza, is the fragment of an original DanishBallad--And Belerma and Durandarte is translated from some stanzas tobe found in a collection of old Spanish poetry, which contains also thepopular song of Gayferos and Melesindra, mentioned in Don Quixote.--Ihave now made a full avowal of all the plagiarisms of which I am awaremyself; but I doubt not, many more may be found, of which I am atpresent totally unconscious.
VOLUME I
CHAPTER I
----Lord Angelo is precise; Stands at a guard with envy; Scarce confesses That his blood flows, or that his appetite Is more to bread than stone. Measure for Measure.
Scarcely had the Abbey Bell tolled for five minutes, and already wasthe Church of the Capuchins thronged with Auditors. Do not encouragethe idea that the Crowd was assembled either from motives of piety orthirst of information. But very few were influenced by those reasons;and in a city where superstition reigns with such despotic sway as inMadrid, to seek for true devotion would be a fruitless attempt. TheAudience now assembled in the Capuchin Church was collected by variouscauses, but all of them were foreign to the ostensible motive. TheWomen came to show themselves, the Men to see the Women: Some wereattracted by curiosity to hear an Orator so celebrated; Some camebecause they had no better means of employing their time till the playbegan; Some, from being assured that it would be impossible to findplaces in the Church; and one half of Madrid was brought thither byexpecting to meet the other half. The only persons truly anxious tohear the Preacher were a few antiquated devotees, and half a dozenrival Orators, determined to find fault with and ridicule thediscourse. As to the remainder of the Audience, the Sermon might havebeen omitted altogether, certainly without their being disappointed,and very probably without their perceiving the omission.
Whatever was the occasion, it is at least certain that the CapuchinChurch had never witnessed a more numerous assembly. Every corner wasfilled, every seat was occupied. The very Statues which ornamented thelong aisles were pressed into the service. Boys suspended themselvesupon the wings of Cherubims; St. Francis and St. Mark bore each aspectator on his shoulders; and St. Agatha found herself under thenecessity of carrying double. The consequence was, that in spite ofall their hurry and expedition, our two newcomers, on entering theChurch, looked round in vain for places.
However, the old Woman continued to move forwards. In vain wereexclamations of displeasure vented against her from all sides: In vainwas She addressed with--'I assure you, Segnora, there are no placeshere.'--'I beg, Segnora, that you will not crowd me sointolerably!'--'Segnora, you cannot pass this way. Bless me! How canpeople be so troublesome!'--The old Woman was obstinate, and on Shewent. By dint of perseverance and two brawny arms She made a passagethrough the Crowd, and managed to bustle herself into the very body ofthe Church, at no great distance from the Pulpit. Her companion hadfollowed her with timidity and in silence, profiting by the exertionsof her conductress.
'Holy Virgin!' exclaimed the old Woman in a tone of disappointment,while She threw a glance of enquiry round her; 'Holy Virgin! Whatheat! What a Crowd! I wonder what can be the meaning of all this. Ibelieve we must return: There is no such thing as a seat to be had,and nobody seems kind enough to accommodate us with theirs.'
This broad hint attracted the notice of two Cavaliers, who occupiedstools on the right hand, and were leaning their backs against theseventh column from the Pulpit. Both were young, and richly habited.Hearing this appeal to their politeness pronounced in a female voice,they interrupted their conversation to look at the speaker. She hadthrown up her veil in order to take a clearer look round the Cathedral.Her hair was red, and She squinted. The Cavaliers turned round, andrenewed their conversation.
'By all means,' replied the old Woman's companion; 'By all means,Leonella, let us return home immediately; The heat is excessive, and Iam terrified at such a crowd.'
These words were pronounced in a tone of unexampled sweetness. TheCavaliers again broke off their discourse, but for this time they werenot contented with looking up: Both started involuntarily from theirseats, and turned themselves towards the Speaker.
The voice came from a female, the delicacy and elegance of whose figureinspired the Youths with the most lively curiosity to view the face towhich it belonged. This satisfaction was denied them. Her featureswere hidden by a thick veil; But struggling through the crowd hadderanged it sufficiently to discover a neck which for symmetry andbeauty might have vied with the Medicean Venus. It was of the mostdazzling whiteness, and received additional charms from being shaded bythe tresses of her long fair hair, which descended in ringlets to herwaist. Her figure was rather below than above the middle size: It waslight and airy as that of an Hamadryad. Her bosom was carefullyveiled. Her dress was white; it was fastened by a blue sash, and justpermitted to peep out from
under it a little foot of the most delicateproportions. A chaplet of large grains hung upon her arm, and her facewas covered with a veil of thick black gauze. Such was the female, towhom the youngest of the Cavaliers now offered his seat, while theother thought it necessary to pay the same attention to her companion.
The old Lady with many expressions of gratitude, but without muchdifficulty, accepted the offer, and seated herself: The young onefollowed her example, but made no other compliment than a simple andgraceful reverence. Don Lorenzo (such was the Cavalier's name, whoseseat She had accepted) placed himself near her; But first He whispereda few words in his Friend's ear, who immediately took the hint, andendeavoured to draw off the old Woman's attention from her lovelycharge.
'You are doubtless lately arrived at Madrid,' said Lorenzo to his fairNeighbour; 'It is impossible that such charms should have long remainedunobserved; and had not this been your first public appearance, theenvy of the Women and adoration of the Men would have rendered youalready sufficiently remarkable.'
He paused, in expectation of an answer. As his speech did notabsolutely require one, the Lady did not open her lips: After a fewmoments He resumed his discourse:
'Am I wrong in supposing you to be a Stranger to Madrid?'
The Lady hesitated; and at last, in so low a voice as to be scarcelyintelligible, She made shift to answer,--'No, Segnor.'
'Do you intend making a stay of any length?'
'Yes, Segnor.'
'I should esteem myself fortunate, were it in my power to contribute tomaking your abode agreeable. I am well known at Madrid, and my Familyhas some interest at Court. If I can be of any service, you cannothonour or oblige me more than by permitting me to be of use toyou.'--'Surely,' said He to himself, 'She cannot answer that by amonosyllable; now She must say something to me.'
Lorenzo was deceived, for the Lady answered only by a bow.
By this time He had discovered that his Neighbour was not veryconversible; But whether her silence proceeded from pride, discretion,timidity, or idiotism, He was still unable to decide.
After a pause of some minutes--'It is certainly from your being aStranger,' said He, 'and as yet unacquainted with our customs, that youcontinue to wear your veil. Permit me to remove it.'
At the same time He advanced his hand towards the Gauze: The Ladyraised hers to prevent him.
'I never unveil in public, Segnor.'
'And where is the harm, I pray you?' interrupted her Companion somewhatsharply; 'Do not you see that the other Ladies have all laid theirveils aside, to do honour no doubt to the holy place in which we are?I have taken off mine already; and surely if I expose my features togeneral observation, you have no cause to put yourself in such awonderful alarm! Blessed Maria! Here is a fuss and a bustle about achit's face! Come, come, Child! Uncover it; I warrant you that nobodywill run away with it from you--'
'Dear aunt, it is not the custom in Murcia.'
'Murcia, indeed! Holy St. Barbara, what does that signify? You arealways putting me in mind of that villainous Province. If it is thecustom in Madrid, that is all that we ought to mind, and therefore Idesire you to take off your veil immediately. Obey me this momentAntonia, for you know that I cannot bear contradiction--'
Her niece was silent, but made no further opposition to Don Lorenzo'sefforts, who, armed with the Aunt's sanction hastened to remove theGauze. What a Seraph's head presented itself to his admiration! Yetit was rather bewitching than beautiful; It was not so lovely fromregularity of features as from sweetness and sensibility ofCountenance. The several parts of her face considered separately, manyof them were far from handsome; but when examined together, the wholewas adorable. Her skin though fair was not entirely without freckles;Her eyes were not very large, nor their lashes particularly long. Butthen her lips were of the most rosy freshness; Her fair and undulatinghair, confined by a simple ribband, poured itself below her waist in aprofusion of ringlets; Her throat was full and beautiful in theextreme; Her hand and arm were formed with the most perfect symmetry;Her mild blue eyes seemed an heaven of sweetness, and the crystal inwhich they moved sparkled with all the brilliance of Diamonds: Sheappeared to be scarcely fifteen; An arch smile, playing round hermouth, declared her to be possessed of liveliness, which excess oftimidity at present represt; She looked round her with a bashfulglance; and whenever her eyes accidentally met Lorenzo's, She droptthem hastily upon her Rosary; Her cheek was immediately suffused withblushes, and She began to tell her beads; though her manner evidentlyshowed that She knew not what She was about.
Lorenzo gazed upon her with mingled surprise and admiration; but theAunt thought it necessary to apologize for Antonia's mauvaise honte.
''Tis a young Creature,' said She, 'who is totally ignorant of theworld. She has been brought up in an old Castle in Murcia; with noother Society than her Mother's, who, God help her! has no more sense,good Soul, than is necessary to carry her Soup to her mouth. Yet She ismy own Sister, both by Father and Mother.'
'And has so little sense?' said Don Christoval with feignedastonishment; 'How very Extraordinary!'
'Very true, Segnor; Is it not strange? However, such is the fact; andyet only to see the luck of some people! A young Nobleman, of the veryfirst quality, took it into his head that Elvira had some pretensionsto Beauty--As to pretensions, in truth, She had always enough of THEM;But as to Beauty....! If I had only taken half the pains to setmyself off which She did....! But this is neither here nor there.As I was saying, Segnor, a young Nobleman fell in love with her, andmarried her unknown to his Father. Their union remained a secret nearthree years, But at last it came to the ears of the old Marquis, who,as you may well suppose, was not much pleased with the intelligence.Away He posted in all haste to Cordova, determined to seize Elvira, andsend her away to some place or other, where she would never be heard ofmore. Holy St. Paul! How He stormed on finding that She had escapedhim, had joined her Husband, and that they had embarked together forthe Indies. He swore at us all, as if the Evil Spirit had possessedhim; He threw my Father into prison, as honest a painstaking Shoe-makeras any in Cordova; and when He went away, He had the cruelty to takefrom us my Sister's little Boy, then scarcely two years old, and whomin the abruptness of her flight, She had been obliged to leave behindher. I suppose, that the poor little Wretch met with bitter badtreatment from him, for in a few months after, we received intelligenceof his death.'
'Why, this was a most terrible old Fellow, Segnora!'
'Oh! shocking! and a Man so totally devoid of taste! Why, would youbelieve it, Segnor? When I attempted to pacify him, He cursed me for aWitch, and wished that to punish the Count, my Sister might become asugly as myself! Ugly indeed! I like him for that.'
'Ridiculous', cried Don Christoval; 'Doubtless the Count would havethought himself fortunate, had he been permitted to exchange the oneSister for the other.'
'Oh! Christ! Segnor, you are really too polite. However, I amheartily glad that the Conde was of a different way of thinking. Amighty pretty piece of business, to be sure, Elvira has made of it!After broiling and stewing in the Indies for thirteen long years, herHusband dies, and She returns to Spain, without an House to hide herhead, or money to procure her one! This Antonia was then but anInfant, and her only remaining Child. She found that her Father-in-Lawhad married again, that he was irreconcileable to the Conde, and thathis second Wife had produced him a Son, who is reported to be a veryfine young Man. The old Marquis refused to see my Sister or her Child;But sent her word that on condition of never hearing any more of her,He would assign her a small pension, and She might live in an oldCastle which He possessed in Murcia; This had been the favouritehabitation of his eldest Son; But since his flight from Spain, the oldMarquis could not bear the place, but let it fall to ruin andconfusion--My Sister accepted the proposal; She retired to Murcia, andhas remained there till within the last Month.'
'And what brings her now to Madrid?' enquired Don Lorenzo, whomadmiration of the young Antonia compel
led to take a lively interest inthe talkative old Woman's narration.
'Alas! Segnor, her Father-in-Law being lately dead, the Steward of hisMurcian Estates has refused to pay her pension any longer.
With the design of supplicating his Son to renew it, She is now come toMadrid; But I doubt, that She might have saved herself the trouble! Youyoung Noblemen have always enough to do with your money, and are notvery often disposed to throw it away upon old Women. I advised mySister to send Antonia with her petition; But She would not hear ofsuch a thing. She is so obstinate! Well! She will find herself theworse for not following my counsels: the Girl has a good pretty face,and possibly might have done much.'
'Ah! Segnora,' interrupted Don Christoval, counterfeiting a passionateair; 'If a pretty face will do the business, why has not your Sisterrecourse to you?'
'Oh! Jesus! my Lord, I swear you quite overpower me with yourgallantry! But I promise you that I am too well aware of the danger ofsuch Expeditions to trust myself in a young Nobleman's power! No, no;I have as yet preserved my reputation without blemish or reproach, andI always knew how to keep the Men at a proper distance.'
'Of that, Segnora, I have not the least doubt. But permit me to askyou; Have you then any aversion to Matrimony?'
'That is an home question. I cannot but confess, that if an amiableCavalier was to present himself....'
Here She intended to throw a tender and significant look upon DonChristoval; But, as She unluckily happened to squint most abominably,the glance fell directly upon his Companion: Lorenzo took thecompliment to himself, and answered it by a profound bow.
'May I enquire,' said He, 'the name of the Marquis?'
'The Marquis de las Cisternas.'
'I know him intimately well. He is not at present in Madrid, but isexpected here daily. He is one of the best of Men; and if the lovelyAntonia will permit me to be her Advocate with him, I doubt not mybeing able to make a favourable report of her cause.'
Antonia raised her blue eyes, and silently thanked him for the offer bya smile of inexpressible sweetness. Leonella's satisfaction was muchmore loud and audible: Indeed, as her Niece was generally silent in hercompany, She thought it incumbent upon her to talk enough for both:This She managed without difficulty, for She very seldom found herselfdeficient in words.
'Oh! Segnor!' She cried; 'You will lay our whole family under the mostsignal obligations! I accept your offer with all possible gratitude,and return you a thousand thanks for the generosity of your proposal.Antonia, why do not you speak, Child? While the Cavalier says allsorts of civil things to you, you sit like a Statue, and never utter asyllable of thanks, either bad, good, or indifferent!'
'My dear Aunt, I am very sensible that....'
'Fye, Niece! How often have I told you, that you never shouldinterrupt a Person who is speaking!? When did you ever know me do sucha thing? Are these your Murcian manners? Mercy on me! I shall neverbe able to make this Girl any thing like a Person of good breeding.But pray, Segnor,' She continued, addressing herself to Don Christoval,'inform me, why such a Crowd is assembled today in this Cathedral?'
'Can you possibly be ignorant, that Ambrosio, Abbot of this Monastery,pronounces a Sermon in this Church every Thursday? All Madrid ringswith his praises. As yet He has preached but thrice; But all who haveheard him are so delighted with his eloquence, that it is as difficultto obtain a place at Church, as at the first representation of a newComedy. His fame certainly must have reached your ears--'
'Alas! Segnor, till yesterday I never had the good fortune to seeMadrid; and at Cordova we are so little informed of what is passing inthe rest of the world, that the name of Ambrosio has never beenmentioned in its precincts.'
'You will find it in every one's mouth at Madrid. He seems to havefascinated the Inhabitants; and not having attended his Sermons myself,I am astonished at the Enthusiasm which He has excited. The adorationpaid him both by Young and Old, by Man and Woman is unexampled. TheGrandees load him with presents; Their Wives refuse to have any otherConfessor, and he is known through all the city by the name of the"Man of Holiness".'
'Undoubtedly, Segnor, He is of noble origin--'
'That point still remains undecided. The late Superior of theCapuchins found him while yet an Infant at the Abbey door. Allattempts to discover who had left him there were vain, and the Childhimself could give no account of his Parents. He was educated in theMonastery, where He has remained ever since. He early showed a stronginclination for study and retirement, and as soon as He was of a properage, He pronounced his vows. No one has ever appeared to claim him, orclear up the mystery which conceals his birth; and the Monks, who findtheir account in the favour which is shewn to their establishment fromrespect to him, have not hesitated to publish that He is a present tothem from the Virgin. In truth the singular austerity of his lifegives some countenance to the report. He is now thirty years old,every hour of which period has been passed in study, total seclusionfrom the world, and mortification of the flesh. Till these last threeweeks, when He was chosen superior of the Society to which He belongs,He had never been on the outside of the Abbey walls: Even now He neverquits them except on Thursdays, when He delivers a discourse in thisCathedral which all Madrid assembles to hear. His knowledge is said tobe the most profound, his eloquence the most persuasive. In the wholecourse of his life He has never been known to transgress a single ruleof his order; The smallest stain is not to be discovered upon hischaracter; and He is reported to be so strict an observer of Chastity,that He knows not in what consists the difference of Man and Woman.The common People therefore esteem him to be a Saint.'
'Does that make a Saint?' enquired Antonia; 'Bless me! Then am I one?'
'Holy St. Barbara!' exclaimed Leonella; 'What a question! Fye, Child,Fye! These are not fit subjects for young Women to handle. You shouldnot seem to remember that there is such a thing as a Man in the world,and you ought to imagine every body to be of the same sex withyourself. I should like to see you give people to understand, that youknow that a Man has no breasts, and no hips, and no ...'.
Luckily for Antonia's ignorance which her Aunt's lecture would soonhave dispelled, an universal murmur through the Church announced thePreacher's arrival. Donna Leonella rose from her seat to take a betterview of him, and Antonia followed her example.
He was a Man of noble port and commanding presence. His stature waslofty, and his features uncommonly handsome. His Nose was aquiline,his eyes large black and sparkling, and his dark brows almost joinedtogether. His complexion was of a deep but clear Brown; Study andwatching had entirely deprived his cheek of colour. Tranquillityreigned upon his smooth unwrinkled forehead; and Content, expressedupon every feature, seemed to announce the Man equally unacquaintedwith cares and crimes. He bowed himself with humility to the audience:Still there was a certain severity in his look and manner that inspireduniversal awe, and few could sustain the glance of his eye at oncefiery and penetrating. Such was Ambrosio, Abbot of the Capuchins, andsurnamed, 'The Man of Holiness'.
Antonia, while She gazed upon him eagerly, felt a pleasure flutteringin her bosom which till then had been unknown to her, and for which Shein vain endeavoured to account. She waited with impatience till theSermon should begin; and when at length the Friar spoke, the sound ofhis voice seemed to penetrate into her very soul. Though no other ofthe Spectators felt such violent sensations as did the young Antonia,yet every one listened with interest and emotion. They who wereinsensible to Religion's merits, were still enchanted with Ambrosio'soratory. All found their attention irresistibly attracted while Hespoke, and the most profound silence reigned through the crowded Aisles.
Even Lorenzo could not resist the charm: He forgot that Antonia wasseated near him, and listened to the Preacher with undivided attention.
In language nervous, clear, and simple, the Monk expatiated on thebeauties of Religion. He explained some abstruse parts of the sacredwritings in a style that carried with it universal conviction. H
isvoice at once distinct and deep was fraught with all the terrors of theTempest, while He inveighed against the vices of humanity, anddescribed the punishments reserved for them in a future state. EveryHearer looked back upon his past offences, and trembled: The Thunderseemed to roll, whose bolt was destined to crush him, and the abyss ofeternal destruction to open before his feet. But when Ambrosio,changing his theme, spoke of the excellence of an unsullied conscience,of the glorious prospect which Eternity presented to the Soul untaintedwith reproach, and of the recompense which awaited it in the regions ofeverlasting glory, His Auditors felt their scattered spirits insensiblyreturn. They threw themselves with confidence upon the mercy of theirJudge; They hung with delight upon the consoling words of the Preacher;and while his full voice swelled into melody, They were transported tothose happy regions which He painted to their imaginations in coloursso brilliant and glowing.
The discourse was of considerable length; Yet when it concluded, theAudience grieved that it had not lasted longer. Though the Monk hadceased to speak, enthusiastic silence still prevailed through theChurch: At length the charm gradually dissolving, the generaladmiration was expressed in audible terms. As Ambrosio descended fromthe Pulpit, His Auditors crowded round him, loaded him with blessings,threw themselves at his feet, and kissed the hem of his Garment. Hepassed on slowly with his hands crossed devoutly upon his bosom, to thedoor opening into the Abbey Chapel, at which his Monks waited toreceive him. He ascended the Steps, and then turning towards hisFollowers, addressed to them a few words of gratitude, and exhortation.While He spoke, his Rosary, composed of large grains of amber, fellfrom his hand, and dropped among the surrounding multitude. It wasseized eagerly, and immediately divided amidst the Spectators. Whoeverbecame possessor of a Bead, preserved it as a sacred relique; and hadit been the Chaplet of thrice-blessed St. Francis himself, it could nothave been disputed with greater vivacity. The Abbot, smiling at theireagerness, pronounced his benediction, and quitted the Church, whilehumility dwelt upon every feature. Dwelt She also in his heart?
Antonia's eyes followed him with anxiety. As the Door closed afterhim, it seemed to her as had she lost some one essential to herhappiness. A tear stole in silence down her cheek.
'He is separated from the world!' said She to herself; 'Perhaps, Ishall never see him more!'
As she wiped away the tear, Lorenzo observed her action.
'Are you satisfied with our Orator?' said He; 'Or do you think thatMadrid overrates his talents?'
Antonia's heart was so filled with admiration for the Monk, that Sheeagerly seized the opportunity of speaking of him: Besides, as She nowno longer considered Lorenzo as an absolute Stranger, She was lessembarrassed by her excessive timidity.
'Oh! He far exceeds all my expectations,' answered She; 'Till thismoment I had no idea of the powers of eloquence. But when He spoke,his voice inspired me with such interest, such esteem, I might almostsay such affection for him, that I am myself astonished at theacuteness of my feelings.'
Lorenzo smiled at the strength of her expressions.
'You are young and just entering into life,' said He; 'Your heart, newto the world and full of warmth and sensibility, receives its firstimpressions with eagerness. Artless yourself, you suspect not othersof deceit; and viewing the world through the medium of your own truthand innocence, you fancy all who surround you to deserve yourconfidence and esteem. What pity, that these gay visions must soon bedissipated! What pity, that you must soon discover the baseness ofmankind, and guard against your fellow-creatures as against your Foes!'
'Alas! Segnor,' replied Antonia; 'The misfortunes of my Parents havealready placed before me but too many sad examples of the perfidy ofthe world! Yet surely in the present instance the warmth of sympathycannot have deceived me.'
'In the present instance, I allow that it has not. Ambrosio'scharacter is perfectly without reproach; and a Man who has passed thewhole of his life within the walls of a Convent cannot have found theopportunity to be guilty, even were He possessed of the inclination.But now, when, obliged by the duties of his situation, He must enteroccasionally into the world, and be thrown into the way of temptation,it is now that it behoves him to show the brilliance of his virtue.The trial is dangerous; He is just at that period of life when thepassions are most vigorous, unbridled, and despotic; His establishedreputation will mark him out to Seduction as an illustrious Victim;Novelty will give additional charms to the allurements of pleasure; andeven the Talents with which Nature has endowed him will contribute tohis ruin, by facilitating the means of obtaining his object. Very fewwould return victorious from a contest so severe.'
'Ah! surely Ambrosio will be one of those few.'
'Of that I have myself no doubt: By all accounts He is an exception tomankind in general, and Envy would seek in vain for a blot upon hischaracter.'
'Segnor, you delight me by this assurance! It encourages me to indulgemy prepossession in his favour; and you know not with what pain Ishould have repressed the sentiment! Ah! dearest Aunt, entreat myMother to choose him for our Confessor.'
'I entreat her?' replied Leonella; 'I promise you that I shall do nosuch thing. I do not like this same Ambrosio in the least; He has alook of severity about him that made me tremble from head to foot:Were He my Confessor, I should never have the courage to avow one halfof my peccadilloes, and then I should be in a rare condition! I neversaw such a stern-looking Mortal, and hope that I never shall see suchanother. His description of the Devil, God bless us! almost terrifiedme out of my wits, and when He spoke about Sinners He seemed as if Hewas ready to eat them.'
'You are right, Segnora,' answered Don Christoval; 'Too great severityis said to be Ambrosio's only fault. Exempted himself from humanfailings, He is not sufficiently indulgent to those of others; andthough strictly just and disinterested in his decisions, his governmentof the Monks has already shown some proofs of his inflexibility. Butthe crowd is nearly dissipated: Will you permit us to attend you home?'
'Oh! Christ! Segnor,' exclaimed Leonella affecting to blush; 'I wouldnot suffer such a thing for the Universe! If I came home attended byso gallant a Cavalier, My Sister is so scrupulous that She would readme an hour's lecture, and I should never hear the last of it. Besides,I rather wish you not to make your proposals just at present.'
'My proposals? I assure you, Segnora....'
'Oh! Segnor, I believe that your assurances of impatience are all verytrue; But really I must desire a little respite. It would not be quiteso delicate in me to accept your hand at first sight.'
'Accept my hand? As I hope to live and breathe....'
'Oh! dear Segnor, press me no further, if you love me! I shall consideryour obedience as a proof of your affection; You shall hear from metomorrow, and so farewell. But pray, Cavaliers, may I not enquire yournames?'
'My Friend's,' replied Lorenzo, 'is the Conde d'Ossorio, and mineLorenzo de Medina.'
''Tis sufficient. Well, Don Lorenzo, I shall acquaint my Sister withyour obliging offer, and let you know the result with all expedition.Where may I send to you?'
'I am always to be found at the Medina Palace.'
'You may depend upon hearing from me. Farewell, Cavaliers. SegnorConde, let me entreat you to moderate the excessive ardour of yourpassion: However, to prove to you that I am not displeased with you,and prevent your abandoning yourself to despair, receive this mark ofmy affection, and sometimes bestow a thought upon the absent Leonella.'
As She said this, She extended a lean and wrinkled hand; which hersupposed Admirer kissed with such sorry grace and constraint soevident, that Lorenzo with difficulty repressed his inclination tolaugh. Leonella then hastened to quit the Church; The lovely Antoniafollowed her in silence; but when She reached the Porch, She turnedinvoluntarily, and cast back her eyes towards Lorenzo. He bowed toher, as bidding her farewell; She returned the compliment, and hastilywithdrew.
'So, Lorenzo!' said Don Christoval as soon as they were alone, 'Youhave procure
d me an agreeable Intrigue! To favour your designs uponAntonia, I obligingly make a few civil speeches which mean nothing tothe Aunt, and at the end of an hour I find myself upon the brink ofMatrimony! How will you reward me for having suffered so grievouslyfor your sake? What can repay me for having kissed the leathern paw ofthat confounded old Witch? Diavolo! She has left such a scent upon mylips that I shall smell of garlick for this month to come! As I passalong the Prado, I shall be taken for a walking Omelet, or some largeOnion running to seed!'
'I confess, my poor Count,' replied Lorenzo, 'that your service hasbeen attended with danger; Yet am I so far from supposing it be pastall endurance that I shall probably solicit you to carry on your amoursstill further.'
'From that petition I conclude that the little Antonia has made someimpression upon you.'
'I cannot express to you how much I am charmed with her. Since myFather's death, My Uncle the Duke de Medina, has signified to me hiswishes to see me married; I have till now eluded his hints, and refusedto understand them; But what I have seen this Evening....'
'Well? What have you seen this Evening? Why surely, Don Lorenzo, Youcannot be mad enough to think of making a Wife out of thisGrand-daughter of "as honest a painstaking Shoe-maker as any inCordova"?'
'You forget, that She is also the Grand-daughter of the late Marquis delas Cisternas; But without disputing about birth and titles, I mustassure you, that I never beheld a Woman so interesting as Antonia.'
'Very possibly; But you cannot mean to marry her?'
'Why not, my dear Conde? I shall have wealth enough for both of us,and you know that my Uncle thinks liberally upon the subject.
From what I have seen of Raymond de las Cisternas, I am certain that hewill readily acknowledge Antonia for his Niece. Her birth thereforewill be no objection to my offering her my hand. I should be a Villaincould I think of her on any other terms than marriage; and in truth Sheseems possessed of every quality requisite to make me happy in a Wife.Young, lovely, gentle, sensible....'
'Sensible? Why, She said nothing but "Yes," and "No".'
'She did not say much more, I must confess--But then She always said"Yes," or "No," in the right place.'
'Did She so? Oh! your most obedient! That is using a right Lover'sargument, and I dare dispute no longer with so profound a Casuist.Suppose we adjourn to the Comedy?'
'It is out of my power. I only arrived last night at Madrid, and havenot yet had an opportunity of seeing my Sister; You know that herConvent is in this Street, and I was going thither when the Crowd whichI saw thronging into this Church excited my curiosity to know what wasthe matter. I shall now pursue my first intention, and probably passthe Evening with my Sister at the Parlour grate.'
'Your Sister in a Convent, say you? Oh! very true, I had forgotten.And how does Donna Agnes? I am amazed, Don Lorenzo, how you couldpossibly think of immuring so charming a Girl within the walls of aCloister!'
'I think of it, Don Christoval? How can you suspect me of suchbarbarity? You are conscious that She took the veil by her own desire,and that particular circumstances made her wish for a seclusion fromthe World. I used every means in my power to induce her to change herresolution; The endeavour was fruitless, and I lost a Sister!'
'The luckier fellow you; I think, Lorenzo, you were a considerablegainer by that loss: If I remember right, Donna Agnes had a portion often thousand pistoles, half of which reverted to your Lordship. By St.Jago! I wish that I had fifty Sisters in the same predicament. I shouldconsent to losing them every soul without much heart-burning--'
'How, Conde?' said Lorenzo in an angry voice; 'Do you suppose me baseenough to have influenced my Sister's retirement? Do you suppose thatthe despicable wish to make myself Master of her fortune could....'
'Admirable! Courage, Don Lorenzo! Now the Man is all in a blaze. Godgrant that Antonia may soften that fiery temper, or we shall certainlycut each other's throat before the Month is over! However, to preventsuch a tragical Catastrophe for the present, I shall make a retreat,and leave you Master of the field. Farewell, my Knight of Mount Aetna!Moderate that inflammable disposition, and remember that whenever it isnecessary to make love to yonder Harridan, you may reckon upon myservices.'
He said, and darted out of the Cathedral.
'How wild-brained!' said Lorenzo; 'With so excellent an heart, whatpity that He possesses so little solidity of judgment!'
The night was now fast advancing. The Lamps were not yet lighted. Thefaint beams of the rising Moon scarcely could pierce through the gothicobscurity of the Church. Lorenzo found himself unable to quit theSpot. The void left in his bosom by Antonia's absence, and hisSister's sacrifice which Don Christoval had just recalled to hisimagination, created that melancholy of mind which accorded but toowell with the religious gloom surrounding him. He was still leaningagainst the seventh column from the Pulpit. A soft and cooling airbreathed along the solitary Aisles: The Moonbeams darting into theChurch through painted windows tinged the fretted roofs and massypillars with a thousand various tints of light and colours:
Universal silence prevailed around, only interrupted by the occasionalclosing of Doors in the adjoining Abbey.
The calm of the hour and solitude of the place contributed to nourishLorenzo's disposition to melancholy. He threw himself upon a seat whichstood near him, and abandoned himself to the delusions of his fancy.He thought of his union with Antonia; He thought of the obstacles whichmight oppose his wishes; and a thousand changing visions floated beforehis fancy, sad 'tis true, but not unpleasing. Sleep insensibly stoleover him, and the tranquil solemnity of his mind when awake for a whilecontinued to influence his slumbers.
He still fancied himself to be in the Church of the Capuchins; but itwas no longer dark and solitary. Multitudes of silver Lamps shedsplendour from the vaulted Roof; Accompanied by the captivating chauntof distant choristers, the Organ's melody swelled through the Church;The Altar seemed decorated as for some distinguished feast; It wassurrounded by a brilliant Company; and near it stood Antonia arrayed inbridal white, and blushing with all the charms of Virgin Modesty.
Half hoping, half fearing, Lorenzo gazed upon the scene before him.Sudden the door leading to the Abbey unclosed, and He saw, attended bya long train of Monks, the Preacher advance to whom He had justlistened with so much admiration. He drew near Antonia.
'And where is the Bridegroom?' said the imaginary Friar.
Antonia seemed to look round the Church with anxiety. Involuntarily theYouth advanced a few steps from his concealment. She saw him; Theblush of pleasure glowed upon her cheek; With a graceful motion of herhand She beckoned to him to advance. He disobeyed not the command; Heflew towards her, and threw himself at her feet.
She retreated for a moment; Then gazing upon him with unutterabledelight;--'Yes!' She exclaimed, 'My Bridegroom! My destinedBridegroom!' She said, and hastened to throw herself into his arms; Butbefore He had time to receive her, an Unknown rushed between them. Hisform was gigantic; His complexion was swarthy, His eyes fierce andterrible; his Mouth breathed out volumes of fire; and on his foreheadwas written in legible characters--'Pride! Lust! Inhumanity!'
Antonia shrieked. The Monster clasped her in his arms, and springingwith her upon the Altar, tortured her with his odious caresses. Sheendeavoured in vain to escape from his embrace. Lorenzo flew to hersuccour, but ere He had time to reach her, a loud burst of thunder washeard. Instantly the Cathedral seemed crumbling into pieces; The Monksbetook themselves to flight, shrieking fearfully; The Lamps wereextinguished, the Altar sank down, and in its place appeared an abyssvomiting forth clouds of flame. Uttering a loud and terrible cry theMonster plunged into the Gulph, and in his fall attempted to dragAntonia with him. He strove in vain. Animated by supernatural powersShe disengaged herself from his embrace; But her white Robe was left inhis possession. Instantly a wing of brilliant splendour spread itselffrom either of Antonia's arms. She darted upwards, and while ascendingcried to Lorenzo,
'Friend! we shall meet above!'
At the same moment the Roof of the Cathedral opened; Harmonious voicespealed along the Vaults; and the glory into which Antonia was receivedwas composed of rays of such dazzling brightness, that Lorenzo wasunable to sustain the gaze. His sight failed, and He sank upon theground.
When He woke, He found himself extended upon the pavement of theChurch: It was Illuminated, and the chaunt of Hymns sounded from adistance. For a while Lorenzo could not persuade himself that what Hehad just witnessed had been a dream, so strong an impression had itmade upon his fancy. A little recollection convinced him of itsfallacy: The Lamps had been lighted during his sleep, and the musicwhich he heard was occasioned by the Monks, who were celebrating theirVespers in the Abbey Chapel.
Lorenzo rose, and prepared to bend his steps towards his Sister'sConvent. His mind fully occupied by the singularity of his dream, Healready drew near the Porch, when his attention was attracted byperceiving a Shadow moving upon the opposite wall. He looked curiouslyround, and soon descried a Man wrapped up in his Cloak, who seemedcarefully examining whether his actions were observed. Very few peopleare exempt from the influence of curiosity. The Unknown seemed anxiousto conceal his business in the Cathedral, and it was this verycircumstance, which made Lorenzo wish to discover what He was about.
Our Hero was conscious that He had no right to pry into the secrets ofthis unknown Cavalier.
'I will go,' said Lorenzo. And Lorenzo stayed, where He was.
The shadow thrown by the Column, effectually concealed him from theStranger, who continued to advance with caution. At length He drew aletter from beneath his cloak, and hastily placed it beneath a ColossalStatue of St. Francis. Then retiring with precipitation, He concealedhimself in a part of the Church at a considerable distance from that inwhich 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 doany good in it; But He thought it necessary to make some little excuseto himself for having indulged his curiosity. He now made a secondattempt to retire from the Church: For this time He gained the Porchwithout meeting with any impediment; But it was destined that He shouldpay it another visit that night. As He descended the steps leading intothe Street, a Cavalier rushed against him with such violence, that Bothwere nearly overturned by the concussion. Lorenzo put his hand to hissword.
'How now, Segnor?' said He; 'What mean you by this rudeness?'
'Ha! Is it you, Medina?' replied the Newcomer, whom Lorenzo by hisvoice now recognized for Don Christoval; 'You are the luckiest Fellowin 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 thenyou shall know the whole History.'
Lorenzo followed him into the Cathedral, and they concealed themselvesbehind the Statue of St. Francis.
'And now,' said our Hero, 'may I take the liberty of asking, what isthe 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 uponno account move out of his own precincts: It being absolutelynecessary for every fashionable Convent to have him for its Confessor,the Nuns are in consequence obliged to visit him at the Abbey; sincewhen the Mountain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must needs go tothe Mountain. Now the Prioress of St. Clare, the better to escape thegaze 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 isto be admitted into the Abbey Chapel by yon private door. ThePorteress of St. Clare, who is a worthy old Soul and a particularFriend of mine, has just assured me of their being here in a fewmoments. There is news for you, you Rogue! We shall see some of theprettiest faces in Madrid!'
'In truth, Christoval, we shall do no such thing. The Nuns are alwaysveiled.'
'No! No! I know better. On entering a place of worship, they evertake off their veils from respect to the Saint to whom 'tis dedicated.But Hark! They are coming! Silence, silence! Observe, and beconvinced.'
'Good!' said Lorenzo to himself; 'I may possibly discover to whom thevows 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 uponentering the Church took off her veil. The Prioress crossed her handsupon her bosom, and made a profound reverence as She passed the Statueof St. Francis, the Patron of this Cathedral. The Nuns followed herexample, and several moved onwards without having satisfied Lorenzo'scuriosity. He almost began to despair of seeing the mystery clearedup, when in paying her respects to St. Francis, one of the Nunshappened to drop her Rosary. As She stooped to pick it up, the lightflashed full upon her face. At the same moment She dexterously removedthe letter from beneath the Image, placed it in her bosom, and hastenedto resume her rank in the procession.
'Ha!' said Christoval in a low voice; 'Here we have some littleIntrigue, no doubt.'
'Agnes, by heaven!' cried Lorenzo.
'What, your Sister? Diavolo! Then somebody, I suppose, will have topay 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 alreadyclosed upon it. The Unknown immediately quitted his concealment andhastened to leave the Church: Ere He could effect his intention, Hedescried Medina stationed in his passage. The Stranger hastilyretreated, 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 askthe question?'
'By a title of which I am now ashamed; But it becomes not you toquestion me. Either reply circumstantially to my demands, or answer mewith your Sword.'
'The latter method will be the shortest,' rejoined the Other, drawinghis Rapier; 'Come on, Segnor Bravo! I am ready!'
Burning with rage, Lorenzo hastened to the attack: The Antagonists hadalready exchanged several passes before Christoval, who at that momenthad more sense than either of them, could throw himself between theirweapons.
'Hold! Hold! Medina!' He exclaimed; 'Remember the consequences ofshedding blood on consecrated ground!'
The Stranger immediately dropped his Sword.
'Medina?' He cried; 'Great God, is it possible! Lorenzo, have you quiteforgotten Raymond de las Cisternas?'
Lorenzo's astonishment increased with every succeeding moment. Raymondadvanced towards him, but with a look of suspicion He drew back hishand, which the Other was preparing to take.
'You here, Marquis? What is the meaning of all this? You engaged in aclandestine correspondence with my Sister, whose affections....'
'Have ever been, and still are mine. But this is no fit place for anexplanation. 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 surethat I may depend upon your silence.'
'Then your opinion of me is better than my own, and therefore I mustbeg leave to decline your confidence. Do you go your own way, and Ishall go mine. Marquis, where are you to be found?'
'As usual, at the Hotel de las Cisternas; But remember, that I amincognito, and that if you wish to see me, you must ask for Alphonsod'Alvarada.'
'Good! Good! Farewell, Cavaliers!' said Don Christoval, and instantlydeparted.
'You, Marquis,' sai
d Lorenzo in the accent of surprise; 'You, Alphonsod'Alvarada?'
'Even so, Lorenzo: But unless you have already heard my story fromyour 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 tolock 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 veryobliging good sort of young Man: He paid you some attention, andnobody knows what may come of it. But as to Don Christoval, I protestto you, He is the very Phoenix of politeness. So gallant! sowell-bred! So sensible, and so pathetic! Well! If ever Man canprevail upon me to break my vow never to marry, it will be that DonChristoval. You see, Niece, that every thing turns out exactly as Itold you: The very moment that I produced myself in Madrid, I knewthat I should be surrounded by Admirers. When I took off my veil, didyou see, Antonia, what an effect the action had upon the Conde? Andwhen I presented him my hand, did you observe the air of passion withwhich He kissed it? If ever I witnessed real love, I then saw itimpressed upon Don Christoval's countenance!'
Now Antonia had observed the air, with which Don Christoval had kissedthis same hand; But as She drew conclusions from it somewhat differentfrom her Aunt's, She was wise enough to hold her tongue. As this isthe only instance known of a Woman's ever having done so, it was judgedworthy 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 Crowdcollected before their door permitted them not to approach it; andplacing themselves on the opposite side of the Street, they endeavouredto make out what had drawn all these people together. After someminutes the Crowd formed itself into a Circle; And now Antoniaperceived in the midst of it a Woman of extraordinary height, whowhirled herself repeatedly round and round, using all sorts ofextravagant gestures. Her dress was composed of shreds ofvarious-coloured silks and Linens fantastically arranged, yet notentirely without taste. Her head was covered with a kind of Turban,ornamented with vine leaves and wild flowers. She seemed muchsun-burnt, and her complexion was of a deep olive: Her eyes lookedfiery and strange; and in her hand She bore a long black Rod, withwhich She at intervals traced a variety of singular figures upon theground, round about which She danced in all the eccentric attitudes offolly and delirium. Suddenly She broke off her dance, whirled herselfround thrice with rapidity, and after a moment's pause She sang thefollowing 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 notmad?'
'Mad? Not She, Child; She is only wicked. She is a Gypsy, a sort ofVagabond, whose sole occupation is to run about the country tellinglyes, and pilfering from those who come by their money honestly. Outupon such Vermin! If I were King of Spain, every one of them should beburnt alive who was found in my dominions after the next three weeks.'
These words were pronounced so audibly that they reached the Gypsy'sears. She immediately pierced through the Crowd and made towards theLadies. She saluted them thrice in the Eastern fashion, and thenaddressed herself to Antonia.
THE GYPSY
'Lady! gentle Lady! Know, I your future fate can show; Give your hand, and do not fear; Lady! gentle Lady! hear!'
'Dearest Aunt!' said Antonia, 'Indulge me this once! Let me have myfortune told me!'
'Nonsense, Child! She will tell you nothing but falsehoods.'
'No matter; Let me at least hear what She has to say. Do, my dear Aunt!Oblige me, I beseech you!'
'Well, well! Antonia, since you are so bent upon the thing, ... Here,good Woman, you shall see the hands of both of us. There is money foryou, and now let me hear my fortune.'
As She said this, She drew off her glove, and presented her hand; TheGypsy looked at it for a moment, and then made this reply.
THE GYPSY
'Your fortune? You are now so old, Good Dame, that 'tis already told: Yet for your money, in a trice I will repay you in advice. Astonished at your childish vanity, Your Friends all tax you with insanity, And grieve to see you use your art To catch some youthful Lover's heart. Believe me, Dame, when all is done, Your age will still be fifty one; And Men will rarely take an hint Of love, from two grey eyes that squint. Take then my counsels; Lay aside Your paint and patches, lust and pride, And on the Poor those sums bestow, Which now are spent on useless show. Think on your Maker, not a Suitor; Think on your past faults, not on future; And think Time's Scythe will quickly mow The few red hairs, which deck your brow.
The audience rang with laughter during the Gypsy's address; and--'fiftyone,'--'squinting eyes,' 'red hair,'--'paint and patches,' &c. werebandied from mouth to mouth. Leonella was almost choaked with passion,and loaded her malicious Adviser with the bitterest reproaches. Theswarthy Prophetess for some time listened to her with a contemptuoussmile: at length She made her a short answer, and then turned toAntonia.
THE GYPSY
'Peace, Lady! What I said was true; And now, my lovely Maid, to you; Give me your hand, and let me see Your future doom, and heaven's decree.'
In imitation of Leonella, Antonia drew off her glove, and presented herwhite hand to the Gypsy, who having gazed upon it for some time with amingled expression of pity and astonishment, pronounced her Oracle inthe following words.
THE GYPSY
'Jesus! what a palm is there! Chaste, and gentle, young and fair, Perfect mind and form possessing, You would be some good Man's blessing: But Alas! This line discovers, That destruction o'er you hovers; Lustful Man and crafty Devil Will combine to work your evil; And from earth by sorrows driven, Soon your Soul must speed to heaven. Yet your sufferings to delay, Well remember what I say. When you One more virtuous see Than belongs to Man to be, One, whose self no crimes assailing, Pities not his Neighbour's Failing, Call the Gypsy's words to mind: Though He seem so good and kind, Fair Exteriors oft will hide Hearts, that swell with lust and pride! Lovely Maid, with tears I leave you! Let not my prediction grieve you; Rather with submission bending Calmly wait distress impending, And expect eternal bliss In a better world than this.
Having said this, the Gypsy again whirled herself round thrice, andthen hastened out of the Street with frantic gesture. The Crowdfollowed her; and Elvira's door being now unembarrassed Leonellaentered the House out of honour with the Gypsy, with her Niece, andwith the People; In short with every body, but herself and her charmingCavalier. The Gypsy's predictions had also considerably affectedAntonia; But the impression soon wore off, and in a few hours She hadforgotten the adventure as totally as had it never taken place.