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but I will not despair of pardon： Haply； when they have received
due chastisement 。 。 。 。'
'Chastisement？ Was Purgatory meant for guilt like yours？ Hope
you that your offences shall be bought off by prayers of
superstitious dotards and droning Monks？ Ambrosio； be wise！
Mine
you must be： You are doomed to flames； but may shun them for the
present。 Sign this parchment： I will bear you from hence； and
you may pass your remaining years in bliss and liberty。 Enjoy
your existence： Indulge in every pleasure to which appetite may
lead you： But from the moment that it quits your body； remember
that your soul belongs to me； and that I will not be defrauded of
my right。'
The Monk was silent； But his looks declared that the Tempter's
words were not thrown away。 He reflected on the conditions
proposed with horror： On the other hand； He believed himself
doomed to perdition and that； by refusing the Daemon's succour；
He only hastened tortures which He never could escape。 The Fiend
saw that his resolution was shaken： He renewed his instances；
and endeavoured to fix the Abbot's indecision。 He described the
agonies of death in the most terrific colours； and He worked so
powerfully upon Ambrosio's despair and fears that He prevailed
upon him to receive the Parchment。 He then struck the iron Pen
which He held into a vein of the Monk's left hand。 It pierced
deep； and was instantly filled with blood； Yet Ambrosio felt no
pain from the wound。 The Pen was put into his hand： It
trembled。 The Wretch placed the Parchment on the Table before
him； and prepared to sign it。 Suddenly He held his hand： He
started away hastily； and threw the Pen upon the table。
'What am I doing？' He criedThen turning to the Fiend with a
desperate air； 'Leave me！ Begone！ I will not sign the
Parchment。'
'Fool！' exclaimed the disappointed Daemon； darting looks so
furious as penetrated the Friar's soul with horror； 'Thus am I
trifled with？ Go then！ Rave in agony； expire in tortures； and
then learn the extent of the Eternal's mercy！ But beware how you
make me again your mock！ Call me no more till resolved to accept
my offers！ Summon me a second time to dismiss me thus idly； and
these Talons shall rend you into a thousand pieces！ Speak yet
again； Will you sign the Parchment？'
'I will not！ Leave me！ Away！'
Instantly the Thunder was heard to roll horribly： Once more the
earth trembled with violence： The Dungeon resounded with loud
shrieks； and the Daemon fled with blasphemy and curses。
At first； the Monk rejoiced at having resisted the Seducer's
arts； and obtained a triumph over Mankind's Enemy： But as the
hour of punishment drew near； his former terrors revived in his
heart。 Their momentary repose seemed to have given them fresh
vigour。 The nearer that the time approached； the more did He
dread appearing before the Throne of God。 He shuddered to think
how soon He must be plunged into eternity； How soon meet the eyes
of his Creator； whom He had so grievously offended。 The Bell
announced midnight： It was the signal for being led to the
Stake！ As He listened to the first stroke； the blood ceased to
circulate in the Abbot's veins： He heard death and torture
murmured in each succeeding sound。 He expected to see the
Archers entering his prison； and as the Bell forbore to toll； he
seized the magic volume in a fit of despair。 He opened it；
turned hastily to the seventh page； and as if fearing to allow
himself a moment's thought ran over the fatal lines with
rapidity。 Accompanied by his former terrors； Lucifer again stood
before the Trembler。
'You have summoned me；' said the Fiend； 'Are you determined to be
wise？ Will you accept my conditions？ You know them already。
Renounce your claim to salvation； make over to me your soul； and
I bear you from this dungeon instantly。 Yet is it time。
Resolve； or it will be too late。 Will you sign the Parchment？'
'I must！Fate urges me！ I accept your conditions。'
'Sign the Parchment！' replied the Daemon in an exulting tone。
The Contract and the bloody Pen still lay upon the Table。
Ambrosio drew near it。 He prepared to sign his name。 A moment's
reflection made him hesitate。
'Hark！' cried the Tempter； 'They come！ Be quick！ Sign the
Parchment； and I bear you from hence this moment。'
In effect； the Archers were heard approaching； appointed to lead
Ambrosio to the Stake。 The sound encouraged the Monk in his
resolution。
'What is the import of this writing？' said He。
'It makes your soul over to me for ever； and without reserve。'
'What am I to receive in exchange？'
'My protection； and release from this dungeon。 Sign it； and this
instant I bear you away。'
Ambrosio took up the Pen； He set it to the Parchment。 Again his
courage failed him： He felt a pang of terror at his heart； and
once more threw the Pen upon the Table。
'Weak and Puerile！' cried the exasperated Fiend： 'Away with this
folly！ Sign the writing this instant； or I sacrifice you to my
rage！'
At this moment the bolt of the outward Door was drawn back。 The
Prisoner heard the rattling of Chains； The heavy Bar fell； The
Archers were on the point of entering。 Worked up to phrenzy by
the urgent danger； shrinking from the approach of death；
terrified by the Daemon's threats； and seeing no other means to
escape destruction； the wretched Monk complied。 He signed the
fatal contract； and gave it hastily into the evil Spirit's hands；
whose eyes； as He received the gift； glared with malicious
rapture。
'Take it！' said the God…abandoned； 'Now then save me！ Snatch me
from hence！'
'Hold！ Do you freely and absolutely renounce your Creator and
his Son？'
'I do！ I do！'
'Do you make over your soul to me for ever？'
'For ever！'
'Without reserve or subterfuge？ Without future appeal to the
divine mercy？'
The last Chain fell from the door of the prison： The key was
heard turning in the Lock： Already the iron door grated heavily
upon its rusty hinges。
'I am yours for ever and irrevocably！' cried the Monk wild with
terror： 'I abandon all claim to salvation！ I own no power but
yours！ Hark！ Hark！ They come！ Oh！ save me！ Bear me away！'
'I have triumphed！ You are mine past reprieve； and I fulfil my
promise。'
While He spoke； the Door unclosed。 Instantly the Daemon grasped
one of Ambrosio's arms； spread his broad pinions； and sprang with
him into the air。 The roof opened as they soared upwards； and
closed again when they had quitted the Dungeon。
In the meanwhile； the Gaoler was thrown into the utmost surprize
by the disappearance of his Prisoner。 Though neither He nor the
Archers were in time to witness the Monk's escape； a sulphurous
smell prevailing through the prison sufficiently informed them by
whose aid He had been liberated。 They hastened to make their
report to the Grand Inquisitor。 The story； how a Sorcerer had
been carried away by the Devil； was soon noised about Madrid； and
for some days the whole City was employed in discussing the
subject。 Gradually it ceased to be the topic of conversation：
Other adventures arose whose novelty engaged universal attention；
and Ambrosio was soon forgotten as totally； as if He never had
existed。 While this was passing； the Monk supported by his
infernal guide； traversed the air with the rapidity of an arrow；
and a few moments placed him upon a Precipice's brink； the
steepest in Sierra Morena。
Though rescued from the Inquisition； Ambrosio as yet was
insensible of the blessings of liberty。 The damning contract
weighed heavy upon his mind； and the scenes in which He had been
a principal actor had left behind them such impressions as
rendered his heart the seat of anarchy and confusion。 The
Objects now before his eyes； and which the full Moon sailing
through clouds permitted him to examine； were ill…calculated to
inspire that calm； of which He stood so much in need。 The
disorder of his imagination was increased by the wildness of the
surrounding scenery； By the gloomy Caverns and steep rocks；
rising above each other； and dividing the passing clouds；
solitary clusters of Trees scattered here and there； among whose
thick…twin