volume01-第9章

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　torment　and　pleasure　of　my　existence！　　Yet　in　this　retreat　my　bosom　would　feel　tranquil；　were　it　not　for　the　tortures　of　apprehension。　　Oh　God！　　Oh　God！　how　cruel　is　a　life　of　fear！Father！　I　have　given　up　all；　I　have　abandoned　the　world　and　its　delights　for　ever：　　Nothing　now　remains；　Nothing　now　has　charms　for　me；　but　your　friendship；　but　your　affection。　　If　I　lose　that；　Father！　　Oh！　if　I　lose　that；　tremble　at　the　effects　of　my　despair！'

'You　apprehend　the　loss　of　my　friendship？　　How　has　my　conduct　justified　this　fear？　　Know　me　better；　Rosario；　and　think　me　worthy　of　your　confidence。　　What　are　your　sufferings？　　Reveal　them　to　me；　and　believe　that　if　'tis　in　my　power　to　relieve　them。　。　。　。'

'Ah！　'tis　in　no　one's　power　but　yours。　　Yet　I　must　not　let　you　know　them。　　You　would　hate　me　for　my　avowal！　　You　would　drive　me　from　your　presence　with　scorn　and　ignominy！'

'My　Son；　I　conjure　you！　　I　entreat　you！'

'For　pity's　sake；　enquire　no　further！　　I　must　not　。　。　。　　I　dare　not　。　。　。　　Hark！　　The　Bell　rings　for　Vespers！　　Father；　your　benediction；　and　I　leave　you！'

As　He　said　this；　He　threw　himself　upon　his　knees　and　received　the　blessing　which　He　demanded。　　Then　pressing　the　Abbot's　hand　to　his　lips；　He　started　from　the　ground　and　hastily　quitted　the　apartment。　　Soon　after　Ambrosio　descended　to　Vespers　（which　were　celebrated　in　a　small　chapel　belonging　to　the　Abbey）；　filled　with　surprise　at　the　singularity　of　the　Youth's　behaviour。

Vespers　being　over；　the　Monks　retired　to　their　respective　Cells。　　The　Abbot　alone　remained　in　the　Chapel　to　receive　the　Nuns　of　St。　Clare。　　He　had　not　been　long　seated　in　the　confessional　chair　　before　the　Prioress　made　her　appearance。　　Each　of　the　Nuns　was　heard　in　her　turn；　while　the　Others　waited　with　the　Domina　in　the　adjoining　Vestry。　　Ambrosio　listened　to　the　confessions　with　attention；　made　many　exhortations；　enjoined　penance　proportioned　to　each　offence；　and　for　some　time　every　thing　went　on　as　usual：　till　at　last　one　of　the　Nuns；　conspicuous　from　the　nobleness　of　her　air　and　elegance　of　her　figure；　carelessly　permitted　a　letter　to　fall　from　her　bosom。　　She　was　retiring；　unconscious　of　her　loss。　　Ambrosio　supposed　it　to　have　been　written　by　some　one　of　her　Relations；　and　picked　it　up　intending　to　restore　it　to　her。

'Stay；　Daughter；'　said　He；　'You　have　let　fall。　。　。　。'

At　this　moment；　the　paper　being　already　open；　his　eye　involuntarily　read　the　first　words。　　He　started　back　with　surprise！　　The　Nun　had　turned　round　on　hearing　his　voice：　　She　perceived　her　letter　in　his　hand；　and　uttering　a　shriek　of　terror；　flew　hastily　to　regain　it。

'Hold！'　said　the　Friar　in　a　tone　of　severity；　'Daughter；　I　must　read　this　letter。'

'Then　I　am　lost！'　　She　exclaimed　clasping　her　hands　together　wildly。

All　colour　instantly　faded　from　her　face；　she　trembled　with　agitation；　and　was　obliged　to　fold　her　arms　round　a　Pillar　of　the　Chapel　to　save　herself　from　sinking　upon　the　floor。　　In　the　meanwhile　the　Abbot　read　the　following　lines。

'All　is　ready　for　your　escape；　my　dearest　Agnes。　　At　twelve　tomorrow　night　I　shall　expect　to　find　you　at　the　Garden　door：　　I　have　obtained　the　Key；　and　a　few　hours　will　suffice　to　place　you　in　a　secure　asylum。　　Let　no　mistaken　scruples　induce　you　to　reject　the　certain　means　of　preserving　yourself　and　the　innocent　Creature　whom　you　nourish　in　your　bosom。　　Remember　that　you　had　promised　to　be　mine；　long　ere　you　engaged　yourself　to　the　church；　that　your　situation　will　soon　be　evident　to　the　prying　eyes　of　your　Companions；　and　that　flight　is　the　only　means　of　avoiding　the　effects　of　their　malevolent　resentment。　　Farewell；　my　Agnes！　my　dear　and　destined　Wife！　　Fail　not　to　be　at　the　Garden　door　at　twelve！'

As　soon　as　He　had　finished；　Ambrosio　bent　an　eye　stern　and　angry　upon　the　imprudent　Nun。

'This　letter　must　to　the　Prioress！'　said　He；　and　passed　her。

His　words　sounded　like　thunder　to　her　ears：　　She　awoke　from　her　torpidity　only　to　be　sensible　of　the　dangers　of　her　situation。　　She　followed　him　hastily；　and　detained　him　by　his　garment。

'Stay！　　Oh！　stay！'　She　cried　in　the　accents　of　despair；　while　She　threw　herself　at　the　Friar's　feet；　and　bathed　them　with　her　tears。　　'Father；　compassionate　my　youth！　　Look　with　indulgence　on　a　Woman's　weakness；　and　deign　to　conceal　my　frailty！　　The　remainder　of　my　life　shall　be　employed　in　expiating　this　single　fault；　and　your　lenity　will　bring　back　a　soul　to　heaven！'

'Amazing　confidence！　　What！　　Shall　St。　Clare's　Convent　become　the　retreat　of　Prostitutes？　　Shall　I　suffer　the　Church　of　Christ　to　cherish　in　its　bosom　debauchery　and　shame？　　Unworthy　Wretch！　such　lenity　would　make　me　your　accomplice。　　Mercy　would　here　be　criminal。　　You　have　abandoned　yourself　to　a　Seducer's　lust；　You　have　defiled　the　sacred　habit　by　your　impurity；　and　still　dare　you　think　yourself　deserving　my　compassion？　　Hence；　nor　detain　me　longer！　　Where　is　the　Lady　Prioress？'　He　added；　raising　his　voice。

'Hold！　Father；　Hold！　　Hear　me　but　for　one　moment！　Tax　me　not　with　impurity；　nor　think　that　I　have　erred　from　the　warmth　of　temperament。　　Long　before　I　took　the　veil；　Raymond　was　Master　of　my　heart：　　He　inspired　me　with　the　purest；　the　most　irreproachable　passion；　and　was　on　the　point　of　becoming　my　lawful　husband。　　An　horrible　adventure；　and　the　treachery　of　a　Relation；　separated　us　from　each　other：　　I　believed　him　for　ever　lost　to　me；　and　threw　myself　into　a　Convent　from　motives　of　despair。　　Accident　again　united　us；　I　could　not　refuse　myself　the　melancholy　pleasure　of　mingling　my　tears　with　his：　　We　met　nightly　in　the　Gardens　of　St。　Clare；　and　in　an　unguarded　moment　I　violated　my　vows　of　Chastity。　　I　shall　soon　become　a　Mother：　　Reverend　Ambrosio；　take　compassion　on　me；　take　compassion　on　the　innocent　Being　whose　existence　is　attached　to　mine。　If　you　discover　my　imprudence　to　the　Domina；　both　of　us　are　lost：　　The　punishment　which　the　laws　of　St。　Clare　assign　to　Unfortunates　like　myself　is　most　severe　and　cruel。　　Worthy；　worthy　Father！　　Let　not　your　own　untainted　conscience　render　you　unfeeling　towards　those　less　able　to　withstand　temptation！　　Let　not　mercy　be　the　only　virtue　of　which　your　heart　is　unsusceptible！　　Pity　me；　most　reverend！　　Restore　my　letter；　nor　doom　me　to　inevitable　destruction！'

'Your　boldness　confounds　me！　　Shall　I　conceal　your　crime；　I　whom　you　have　deceived　by　your　feigned　confession？　　No；　Daughter；　no！　　I　will　render　you　a　more　essential　service。　　I　will　rescue　you　from　perdition　in　spite　of　yourself；　Penance　and　mortification　shall　expiate　your　offence；　and　Severity　force　you　back　to　the　paths　of　holiness。　　What；　Ho！　　Mother　St。　Agatha！'

'Father！　　By　all　that　is　sacred；　by　all　that　is　most　dear　to　you；　I　supplicate；　I　entreat。　。　。　。'

'Release　me！　　I　will　not　hear　you。　　Where　is　the　Domina？　　Mother　St。　Agatha；　where　are　you？'

The　door　of　the　Vestry　opened；　and　the　Prioress　entered　the　Chapel；　followed　by　her　Nuns。

'Cruel！　　Cruel！'　exclaimed　Agnes；　relinquishing　her　hold。

Wild　and　desperate；　She　threw　herself　upon　the　ground；　beating　her　bosom　and　rending　her　veil　in　all　the　delirium　of　despair。　　The　Nuns　gazed　with　astonishment　upon　the　scene　before　them。　　The　Friar　now　presented　the　fatal　paper　to　the　Prioress；　informed　her　of　the　manner　in　which　he　had　found　it；　and　added；　that　it　was　her　business　to　decide；　what　penance　the　delinquent　merited。

While　She　perused　the　letter；　the　Domina's　countenance　grew　inflamed　with　passion。　　What！　　Such　a　crime　committed　in　her　Convent；　and　made　known　to　Ambrosio；　to　the　Idol　of　Madrid；　to　the　Man　whom　She　was　most　anxious　to　impress　with　the　opinion　of　the　strictness　and　regularity　of　her　House！　　Words　were　inadequate　to　express　her　fury。　　She　was　silent；　and　darted　upon　the　prostrate　Nun　looks　of　menace　and　malignity。

'Away　with　her　to　the　Convent！'　said　She　at　length　to　some　of　her　Attendants。

Two　of　the　oldest　Nuns　now　approaching　Agnes；　raised　her　forcibly　from　the　ground；　and　prepared　to　conduct　her　from　the　Chapel。

'What！'　She　exclaimed　suddenly　shaking　off　their　hold　with　distracted　gestures；　'Is　all　hope　then　lost？　　Already　do　you　drag　me　to　punishment？　　Where　are　you；　Raymond？　　Oh！　save　me！　save　me！'　

Then　casting　upon　the　Abbot　a　frantic　look；　'Hear　me！'