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both of them filled with worldly objects； and He prayed without
devotion。 The service over； He descended into the Garden。 He
bent his steps towards the same spot where； on the preceding
night； He had made this embarrassing discovery。 He doubted not
but that Matilda would seek him there： He was not deceived。 She
soon entered the Hermitage； and approached the Monk with a timid
air。 After a few minutes during which both were silent； She
appeared as if on the point of speaking； But the Abbot； who
during this time had been summoning up all his resolution；
hastily interrupted her。 Though still unconscious how extensive
was its influence； He dreaded the melodious seduction of her
voice。
'Seat yourself by my side； Matilda；' said He； assuming a look of
firmness； though carefully avoiding the least mixture of
severity； 'Listen to me patiently； and believe； that in what I
shall say； I am not more influenced by my own interest than by
yours： Believe； that I feel for you the warmest friendship； the
truest compassion； and that you cannot feel more grieved than I
do； when I declare to you that we must never meet again。'
'Ambrosio！' She cried； in a voice at once expressive of surprise
and sorrow。
'Be calm； my Friend！ My Rosario！ Still let me call you by that
name so dear to me！ Our separation is unavoidable； I blush to
own； how sensibly it affects me。 But yet it must be so。 I feel
myself incapable of treating you with indifference； and that very
conviction obliges me to insist upon your departure。 Matilda；
you must stay here no longer。'
'Oh！ where shall I now seek for probity？ Disgusted with a
perfidious world； in what happy region does Truth conceal
herself？ Father； I hoped that She resided here； I thought that
your bosom had been her favourite shrine。 And you too prove
false？ Oh God！ And you too can betray me？'
'Matilda！'
'Yes； Father； Yes！ 'Tis with justice that I reproach you。 Oh！
where are your promises？ My Noviciate is not expired； and yet
will you compell me to quit the Monastery？ Can you have the
heart to drive me from you？ And have I not received your solemn
oath to the contrary？'
'I will not compell you to quit the Monastery： You have received
my solemn oath to the contrary。 But yet when I throw myself upon
your generosity； when I declare to you the embarrassments in
which your presence involves me； will you not release me from
that oath？ Reflect upon the danger of a discovery； upon the
opprobrium in which such an event would plunge me： Reflect that
my honour and reputation are at stake； and that my peace of mind
depends on your compliance。 As yet my heart is free； I shall
separate from you with regret； but not with despair。 Stay here；
and a few weeks will sacrifice my happiness on the altar of your
charms。 You are but too interesting； too amiable！ I should love
you； I should doat on you！ My bosom would become the prey of
desires which Honour and my profession forbid me to gratify。 If
I resisted them； the impetuosity of my wishes unsatisfied would
drive me to madness： If I yielded to the temptation； I should
sacrifice to one moment of guilty pleasure my reputation in this
world； my salvation in the next。 To you then I fly for defence
against myself。 Preserve me from losing the reward of thirty
years of sufferings！ Preserve me from becoming the Victim of
Remorse！ YOUR heart has already felt the anguish of hopeless
love； Oh！ then if you really value me； spare mine that anguish！
Give me back my promise； Fly from these walls。 Go； and you bear
with you my warmest prayers for your happiness； my friendship； my
esteem and admiration： Stay； and you become to me the source of
danger； of sufferings； of despair！ Answer me； Matilda； What is
your resolve？'She was silent'Will you not speak； Matilda？
Will you not name your choice？'
'Cruel！ Cruel！' She exclaimed； wringing her hands in agony； 'You
know too well that you offer me no choice！ You know too well that
I can have no will but yours！'
'I was not then deceived！ Matilda's generosity equals my
expectations。'
'Yes； I will prove the truth of my affection by submitting to a
decree which cuts me to the very heart。 Take back your promise。
I will quit the Monastery this very day。 I have a Relation；
Abbess of a Covent in Estramadura： To her will I bend my steps；
and shut myself from the world for ever。 Yet tell me； Father；
Shall I bear your good wishes with me to my solitude？ Will you
sometimes abstract your attention from heavenly objects to bestow
a thought upon me？'
'Ah！ Matilda； I fear that I shall think on you but too often for
my repose！'
'Then I have nothing more to wish for； save that we may meet in
heaven。 Farewell； my Friend！ my Ambrosio！ And yet methinks； I
would fain bear with me some token of your regard！'
'What shall I give you？'
'Something。Any thing。One of those flowers will be
sufficient。' （Here She pointed to a bush of Roses； planted at the
door of the Grotto。） 'I will hide it in my bosom； and when I am
dead； the Nuns shall find it withered upon my heart。'
The Friar was unable to reply： With slow steps； and a soul heavy
with affliction； He quitted the Hermitage。 He approached the
Bush； and stooped to pluck one of the Roses。 Suddenly He uttered
a piercing cry； started back hastily； and let the flower； which
He already held； fall from his hand。 Matilda heard the shriek；
and flew anxiously towards him。
'What is the matter？' She cried； 'Answer me； for God's sake！
What has happened？'
'I have received my death！' He replied in a faint voice；
'Concealed among the Roses 。 。 。 A Serpent。 。 。 。'
Here the pain of his wound became so exquisite； that Nature was
unable to bear it： His senses abandoned him； and He sank
inanimate into Matilda's arms。
Her distress was beyond the power of description。 She rent her
hair； beat her bosom； and not daring to quit Ambrosio；
endeavoured by loud cries to summon the Monks to her assistance。
She at length succeeded。 Alarmed by her shrieks； Several of the
Brothers hastened to the spot； and the Superior was conveyed back
to the Abbey。 He was immediately put to bed； and the Monk who
officiated as Surgeon to the Fraternity prepared to examine the
wound。 By this time Ambrosio's hand had swelled to an
extraordinary size； The remedies which had been administered to
him； 'tis true； restored him to life； but not to his senses； He
raved in all the horrors of delirium； foamed at the mouth； and
four of the strongest Monks were scarcely able to hold him in his
bed。
Father Pablos； such was the Surgeon's name； hastened to examine
the wounded hand。 The Monks surrounded the Bed； anxiously
waiting for the decision： Among these the feigned Rosario
appeared not the most insensible to the Friar's calamity。 He
gazed upon the Sufferer with inexpressible anguish； and the
groans which every moment escaped from his bosom sufficiently
betrayed the violence of his affliction。
Father Pablos probed the wound。 As He drew out his Lancet； its
point was tinged with a greenish hue。 He shook his head
mournfully； and quitted the bedside。
' 'Tis as I feared！' said He； 'There is no hope。'
'No hope？' exclaimed the Monks with one voice； 'Say you； no
hope？'
'From the sudden effects； I suspected that the Abbot was stung by
a Cientipedoro： The venom which you see upon my Lancet
confirms my idea： He cannot live three days。'
'And can no possible remedy be found？' enquired Rosario。
'Without extracting the poison； He cannot recover； and how to
extract it is to me still a secret。 All that I can do is to
apply such herbs to the wound as will relieve the anguish： The
Patient will be restored to his senses； But the venom will
corrupt the whole mass of his blood； and in three days He will
exist no longer。'
Excessive was the universal grief at hearing this decision。
Pablos； as He had promised； dressed the wound； and then retired；
followed by his Companions： Rosario alone remained in the Cell；
the Abbot at his urgent entreaty having been committed to his
care。 Ambrosio's strength worn out by the violence of his
exertions； He had by this time fallen into a profoun