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no better success than the former。 On the contrary； taking
advantage of her situation； the Ravisher threw himself by her
side： He clasped her to his bosom almost lifeless with terror；
and faint with struggling。 He stifled her cries with kisses；
treated her with the rudeness of an unprincipled Barbarian；
proceeded from freedom to freedom； and in the violence of his
lustful delirium； wounded and bruised her tender limbs。 Heedless
of her tears； cries and entreaties； He gradually made himself
Master of her person； and desisted not from his prey； till He had
accomplished his crime and the dishonour of Antonia。
Scarcely had He succeeded in his design than He shuddered at
himself and the means by which it was effected。 The very excess
of his former eagerness to possess Antonia now contributed to
inspire him with disgust； and a secret impulse made him feel how
base and unmanly was the crime which He had just committed。 He
started hastily from her arms。 She； who so lately had been the
object of his adoration； now raised no other sentiment in his
heart than aversion and rage。 He turned away from her； or if his
eyes rested upon her figure involuntarily； it was only to dart
upon her looks of hate。 The Unfortunate had fainted ere the
completion of her disgrace： She only recovered life to be
sensible of her misfortune。 She remained stretched upon the earth
in silent despair： The tears chased each other slowly down her
cheeks； and her bosom heaved with frequent sobs。 Oppressed with
grief； She continued for some time in this state of torpidity。
At length She rose with difficulty； and dragging her feeble steps
towards the door； prepared to quit the dungeon。
The sound of her footsteps rouzed the Monk from his sullen
apathy。 Starting from the Tomb against which He reclined； while
his eyes wandered over the images of corruption contained in it；
He pursued the Victim of his brutality； and soon overtook her。
He seized her by the arm； and violently forced her back into the
dungeon。
'Whither go you？' He cried in a stern voice； 'Return this
instant！'
Antonia trembled at the fury of his countenance。
'What； would you more？' She said with timidity： 'Is not my ruin
compleated？ Am I not undone； undone for ever？ Is not your
cruelty contented； or have I yet more to suffer？ Let me depart。
Let me return to my home； and weep unrestrained my shame and my
affliction！'
'Return to your home？' repeated the Monk； with bitter and
contemptuous mockery； Then suddenly his eyes flaming with
passion； 'What？ That you may denounce me to the world？ That
you may proclaim me an Hypocrite； a Ravisher； a Betrayer； a
Monster of cruelty； lust； and ingratitude？ No； no； no！ I know
well the whole weight of my offences； Well that your complaints
would be too just； and my crimes too notorious！ You shall not
from hence to tell Madrid that I am a Villain； that my conscience
is loaded with sins which make me despair of Heaven's pardon。
Wretched Girl； you must stay here with me！ Here amidst these
lonely Tombs； these images of Death； these rotting loathsome
corrupted bodies！ Here shall you stay； and witness my
sufferings； witness what it is to die in the horrors of
despondency； and breathe the last groan in blasphemy and curses！
And who am I to thank for this？ What seduced me into crimes；
whose bare remembrance makes me shudder？ Fatal Witch！ was it not
thy beauty？ Have you not plunged my soul into infamy？ Have you
not made me a perjured Hypocrite； a Ravisher； an Assassin！ Nay；
at this moment； does not that angel look bid me despair of God's
forgiveness？ Oh！ when I stand before his judgment…throne； that
look will suffice to damn me！ You will tell my Judge that you
were happy； till I saw you； that you were innocent； till I
polluted you！ You will come with those tearful eyes； those
cheeks pale and ghastly； those hands lifted in supplication； as
when you sought from me that mercy which I gave not！ Then will
my perdition be certain！ Then will come your Mother's Ghost； and
hurl me down into the dwellings of Fiends； and flames； and
Furies； and everlasting torments！ And 'tis you； who will accuse
me！ 'Tis you； who will cause my eternal anguish！ You； wretched
Girl！ You！ You！'
As He thundered out these words； He violently grasped Antonia's
arm； and spurned the earth with delirious fury。
Supposing his brain to be turned； Antonia sank in terror upon her
knees： She lifted up her hands； and her voice almost died away；
ere She could give it utterance。
'Spare me！ Spare me！' She murmured with difficulty。
'Silence！' cried the Friar madly； and dashed her upon the
ground
He quitted her； and paced the dungeon with a wild and disordered
air。 His eyes rolled fearfully： Antonia trembled whenever She
met their gaze。 He seemed to meditate on something horrible； and
She gave up all hopes of escaping from the Sepulchre with life。
Yet in harbouring this idea； She did him injustice。 Amidst the
horror and disgust to which his soul was a prey； pity for his
Victim still held a place in it。 The storm of passion once over；
He would have given worlds had He possest them； to have restored
to her that innocence of which his unbridled lust had deprived
her。 Of the desires which had urged him to the crime； no trace
was left in his bosom： The wealth of India would not have
tempted him to a second enjoyment of her person。 His nature
seemed to revolt at the very idea； and fain would He have wiped
from his memory the scene which had just past。 As his gloomy
rage abated； in proportion did his compassion augment for
Antonia。 He stopped； and would have spoken to her words of
comfort； But He knew not from whence to draw them； and remained
gazing upon her with mournful wildness。 Her situation seemed so
hopeless； so woebegone； as to baffle mortal power to relieve
her。 What could He do for her？ Her peace of mind was lost； her
honour irreparably ruined。 She was cut off for ever from
society； nor dared He give her back to it。 He was conscious
that were She to appear in the world again； his guilt would be
revealed； and his punishment inevitable。 To one so laden with
crimes； Death came armed with double terrors。 Yet should He
restore Antonia to light； and stand the chance of her betraying
him； how miserable a prospect would present itself before her。
She could never hope to be creditably established； She would be
marked with infamy； and condemned to sorrow and solitude for the
remainder of her existence。 What was the alternative？ A
resolution far more terrible for Antonia； but which at least
would insure the Abbot's safety。 He determined to leave the
world persuaded of her death； and to retain her a captive in this
gloomy prison： There He proposed to visit her every night； to
bring her food； to profess his penitence； and mingle his tears
with hers。 The Monk felt that this resolution was unjust and
cruel； but it was his only means to prevent Antonia from
publishing his guilt and her own infamy。 Should He release her；
He could not depend upon her silence： His offence was too
flagrant to permit his hoping for her forgiveness。 Besides； her
reappearing would excite universal curiosity； and the violence
of her affliction would prevent her from concealing its cause。
He determined therefore； that Antonia should remain a Prisoner in
the dungeon。
He approached her with confusion painted on his countenance。 He
raised her from the ground。 Her hand trembled； as He took it；
and He dropped it again as if He had touched a Serpent。 Nature
seemed to recoil at the touch。 He felt himself at once repulsed
from and attracted towards her； yet could account for neither
sentiment。 There was something in her look which penetrated him
with horror； and though his understanding was still ignorant of
it； Conscience pointed out to him the whole extent of his crime。
In hurried accents yet the gentlest He could find； while his eye
was averted； and his voice scarcely audible； He strove to console
her under a misfortune which now could not be avoided。 He
declared himself sincerely penitent； and that He would gladly
shed a drop of his blood； for every tear