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solitary clusters of Trees scattered here and there； among whose
thick…twined branches the wind of night sighed hoarsely and
mournfully； the shrill cry of mountain Eagles； who had built
their nests among these lonely Desarts； the stunning roar of
torrents； as swelled by late rains they rushed violently down
tremendous precipices； and the dark waters of a silent sluggish
stream which faintly reflected the moonbeams； and bathed the
Rock's base on which Ambrosio stood。 The Abbot cast round him a
look of terror。 His infernal Conductor was still by his side；
and eyed him with a look of mingled malice； exultation； and
contempt。
'Whither have you brought me？' said the Monk at length in an
hollow trembling voice： 'Why am I placed in this melancholy
scene？ Bear me from it quickly！ Carry me to Matilda！'
The Fiend replied not； but continued to gaze upon him in silence。
Ambrosio could not sustain his glance； He turned away his eyes；
while thus spoke the Daemon：
'I have him then in my power！ This model of piety！ This being
without reproach！ 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！ How
grateful will be my present！'
He paused； then addressed himself to the Monk
'Carry you to Matilda？' He continued； repeating Ambrosio's words：
'Wretch！ you shall soon be with her！ You well deserve a place
near her； for hell boasts no miscreant more guilty than yourself。
Hark； Ambrosio； while I unveil your crimes！ You have shed the
blood of two innocents； Antonia and Elvira perished by your hand。
That Antonia whom you violated； was your Sister！ That Elvira whom
you murdered； gave you birth！ Tremble； abandoned Hypocrite！
Inhuman Parricide！ Incestuous Ravisher！ Tremble at the extent of
your offences！ And you it was who thought yourself proof against
temptation； absolved from human frailties； and free from error
and vice！ Is pride then a virtue？ Is inhumanity no fault？
Know； vain Man！ That I long have marked you for my prey： I
watched the movements of your heart； I saw that you were virtuous
from vanity； not principle； and I seized the fit moment of
seduction。 I observed your blind idolatry of the Madona's
picture。 I bad a subordinate but crafty spirit assume a similar
form； and you eagerly yielded to the blandishments of Matilda。
Your pride was gratified by her flattery； Your lust only needed
an opportunity to break forth； You ran into the snare blindly；
and scrupled not to commit a crime which you blamed in another
with unfeeling severity。 It was I who threw Matilda in your way；
It was I who gave you entrance to Antonia's chamber； It was I who
caused the dagger to be given you which pierced your Sister's
bosom； and it was I who warned Elvira in dreams of your designs
upon her Daughter； and thus； by preventing your profiting by her
sleep； compelled you to add rape as well as incest to the
catalogue of your crimes。 Hear； hear； Ambrosio！ Had you
resisted me one minute longer； you had saved your body and soul。
The guards whom you heard at your prison door came to signify
your pardon。 But I had already triumphed： My plots had already
succeeded。 Scarcely could I propose crimes so quick as you
performed them。 You are mine； and Heaven itself cannot rescue
you from my power。 Hope not that your penitence will make void
our contract。 Here is your bond signed with your blood； You have
given up your claim to mercy； and nothing can restore to you the
rights which you have foolishly resigned。 Believe you that your
secret thoughts escaped me？ No； no； I read them all！ You
trusted that you should still have time for repentance。 I saw
your artifice； knew its falsity； and rejoiced in deceiving the
deceiver！ You are mine beyond reprieve： I burn to possess my
right； and alive you quit not these mountains。'
During the Daemon's speech； Ambrosio had been stupefied by terror
and surprize。 This last declaration rouzed him。
'Not quit these mountains alive？' He exclaimed： 'Perfidious； what
mean you？ Have you forgotten our contract？'
The Fiend answered by a malicious laugh：
'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 Inquisitionsafe 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？ Then all
would have been granted： Now； your reflections come too late。
Miscreant； prepare for death； You have not many hours to live！'
On hearing this sentence； dreadful were the feelings of the
devoted Wretch！ He sank upon his knees； and raised his hands
towards heaven。 The Fiend read his intention and prevented it
'What？' He cried； darting at him a look of fury： 'Dare you still
implore the Eternal's mercy？ Would you feign penitence； and
again act an Hypocrite's part？ Villain； resign your hopes of
pardon。 Thus I secure my prey！'
As He said this； darting his talons into the Monk's shaven crown；
He sprang with him from the rock。 The Caves and mountains rang
with Ambrosio's shrieks。 The Daemon continued to soar aloft； till
reaching a dreadful height； He released the sufferer。 Headlong
fell the Monk through the airy waste； The sharp point of a rock
received him； and He rolled from precipice to precipice； till
bruised and mangled He rested on the river's banks。 Life still
existed in his miserable frame： He attempted in vain to raise
himself； His broken and dislocated limbs refused to perform their
office； nor was He able to quit the spot where He had first
fallen。 The Sun now rose above the horizon； Its scorching beams
darted full upon the head of the expiring Sinner。 Myriads of
insects were called forth by the warmth； They drank the blood
which trickled from Ambrosio's wounds； He had no power to drive
them from him； and they fastened upon his sores； darted their
stings into his body； covered him with their multitudes； and
inflicted on him tortures the most exquisite and insupportable。
The Eagles of the rock tore his flesh piecemeal； and dug out his
eyeballs with their crooked beaks。 A burning thirst tormented
him； He heard the river's murmur as it rolled beside him； but
strove in vain to drag himself towards the sound。 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。 On the Seventh a violent storm
arose： The winds in fury rent up rocks and forests： The sky was
now black with clouds； now sheeted with fire： The rain fell in
torrents； It swelled the stream； The waves overflowed their
banks； They reached the spot where Ambrosio lay； and when they
abated carried with them into the river the Corse of the
despairing Monk。
End XFIR驗MZ�