The Monk: Chapters 10–12

His good sense had pointed out to him the artifices of the Monks, and the gross absurdity of their miracles, wonders, and supposititious reliques.

He resolved not to let it slip, but to set before the People in glaring colours how enormous were the abuses but too frequently practised in Monasteries, and how unjustly public esteem was bestowed indiscriminately upon all who wore a religious habit.

She was followed by St. Catherine, a palm-branch in one hand, a flaming Sword in the other: She was robed in white, and her brow was ornamented with a sparkling Diadem.

The Prioress had been careful to select a Nun whose disposition was naturally solemn and saturnine.

She moved on slowly: Her eyes were raised to heaven: Her countenance calm and tranquil seemed abstracted from all sublunary things, and no feature betrayed her secret pride at displaying the pomp and opulence of her Convent.

The lovely Virginia was one of the first to fly: And in order that She might be better seen and heard, the People desired that St. Ursula should harangue them from the vacant Throne.

However strange and unseemly may appear my conduct, when considered to be adopted by a Female and a Nun, necessity will justify it most fully.

Thus was She to languish out the remainder of her days, with no other food than bread and water, and no other comfort than the free indulgence of her tears.

It was long before I could find the means of conveying to the unhappy Girl’s Relations an intimation of my secret.

They forced a passage through the Guards who protected their destined Victim, dragged her from her shelter, and proceeded to take upon her a most summary and cruel vengeance.

They refused to listen to her: They showed her every sort of insult, loaded her with mud and filth, and called her by the most opprobrious appellations.

They refused to listen to her: They showed her every sort of insult, loaded her with mud and filth, and called her by the most opprobrious appellations.

She gravely replied that for time immemorial the Statue had been famous for performing miracles: From this She inferred that the Saint was concerned at the conflagration of a Convent which She protected, and expressed her grief by audible lamentations.

She gravely replied that for time immemorial the Statue had been famous for performing miracles: From this She inferred that the Saint was concerned at the conflagration of a Convent which She protected, and expressed her grief by audible lamentations.

He drew nearer to the Image, designing to inspect it more closely: But perceiving his intention, the Nuns besought him for God’s sake to desist, since if He touched the Statue, his death was inevitable.

This Jewel naturally excited the Villain’s cupidity.

He examined it over and over: Still no clue guided him to the solution of this mystery, for which the Nuns were become equally solicitous, when they saw that He touched the Statue with impunity.

Nothing was discernible, save a flight of rough unshapen steps which sank into the yawning Gulph and were soon lost in darkness.

She again fixed her eyes upon the Crucifix, took her Rosary, and while She told her beads, the quick motion of her lips declared her to be praying with fervency.

This surprized him, and He quitted the Cave precipitately.

Should He release her, He could not depend upon her silence: His offence was too flagrant to permit his hoping for her forgiveness.

The Abbot strove not to vindicate himself, but preserved a sullen silence. He was secured and bound.

She soon perceived that from these communications the heart of her young Friend had imbibed impressions, which She was far from intending to give, but was truly happy to discover.

While He laboured thus to make Lorenzo forget Antonia’s loss, the Duke paid his court assiduously to Virginia, and seized every opportunity to advance his Nephew’s interest in her heart.

These once passed, the tranquillity of his mind, the assurance of felicity, and above all the presence of Agnes, (Who was no sooner reestablished by the care of Virginia and the Marchioness, than She hastened to attend her Lover) soon enabled him to overcome the effects of his late dreadful malady.

The match was unexceptionable: Lorenzo was Heir to his Uncle’s immense property, and was distinguished in Madrid for his agreeable person, extensive knowledge, and propriety of conduct: Add to this, that the Marchioness had discovered how strong was her Daughter’s prepossession in his favour.

I was opprest by a noisome suffocating smell; and perceiving that the grated door was unfastened, I thought that I might possibly effect my escape.

I trembled, and would have spoken to deprecate her wrath: but a motion of the Domina commanded me to be silent.

His Partizans abandoned him: No one entertained a doubt of his guilt; and they who before had been the warmest in his praise were now the most vociferous in his condemnation.

Near an hour past away, and with every second of it Ambrosio’s fears grew more poignant.

In her right hand She held a small Book: A lively expression of pleasure beamed upon her countenance; But still it was mingled with a wild imperious majesty which inspired the Monk with awe, and represt in some measure his transports at seeing her.

He was still in this attitude when the opening of the prison door rouzed him from his stupor.

He still assured his Judges that for his own part He had never entered into any compact with the infernal Spirits; But the threat of being tortured made him declare himself to be a Sorcerer, and Heretic, and whatever other title the Inquisitors chose to fix upon him.

“Do you make over your soul to me for ever?”
“For ever!”
“Without reserve or subterfuge? Without future appeal to the divine mercy?”

“I am yours for ever and irrevocably!” cried the Monk wild with terror.

This Mortal who placed his puny virtues on a level with those of Angels. He is mine! Irrevocably, eternally mine! Companions of my sufferings! Denizens of hell!

Wretch! you shall soon be with her! You well deserve a place near her, for hell boasts no miscreant more guilty than yourself.

I bad a subordinate but crafty spirit assume a similar form, and you eagerly yielded to the blandishments of Matilda.

Our contract? Have I not performed my part? What more did I promise than to save you from your prison? Have I not done so? Are you not safe from the Inquisition—safe from all but from me? Fool that you were to confide yourself to a Devil! Why did you not stipulate for life, and power, and pleasure?

Blind, maimed, helpless, and despairing, venting his rage in blasphemy and curses, execrating his existence, yet dreading the arrival of death destined to yield him up to greater torments, six miserable days did the Villain languish.