The Monk - A Romance

Home > Other > The Monk - A Romance > Page 14
The Monk - A Romance Page 14

by The Monk [lit]


  make the first false step. I loved my Seducer; dearly loved him!

  I was true to his Bed; this Baby, and the Youth who warned you,

  my Lord Baron, of your Lady's danger, are the pledges of our

  affection. Even at this moment I lament his loss, though 'tis to

  him that I owe all the miseries of my existence.

  'He was of noble birth, but He had squandered away his paternal

  inheritance. His Relations considered him as a disgrace to their

  name, and utterly discarded him. His excesses drew upon him the

  indignation of the Police. He was obliged to fly from

  Strasbourg, and saw no other resource from beggary than an union

  with the Banditti who infested the neighbouring Forest, and

  whose Troop was chiefly composed of Young Men of family in the

  same predicament with himself. I was determined not to forsake

  him. I followed him to the Cavern of the Brigands, and shared

  with him the misery inseparable from a life of pillage. But

  though I was aware that our existence was supported by plunder, I

  knew not all the horrible circumstances attached to my Lover's

  profession. These He concealed from me with the utmost care; He

  was conscious that my sentiments were not sufficiently depraved

  to look without horror upon assassination: He supposed, and with

  justice, that I should fly with detestation from the embraces of

  a Murderer. Eight years of possession had not abated his love

  for me; and He cautiously removed from my knowledge every

  circumstance, which might lead me to suspect the crimes in which

  He but too often participated. He succeeded perfectly: It was

  not till after my Seducer's death, that I discovered his hands to

  have been stained with the blood of innocence.

  'One fatal night He was brought back to the Cavern covered with

  wounds: He received them in attacking an English Traveller, whom

  his Companions immediately sacrificed to their resentment. He

  had only time to entreat my pardon for all the sorrows which He

  had caused me: He pressed my hand to his lips, and expired. My

  grief was inexpressible. As soon as its violence abated, I

  resolved to return to Strasbourg, to throw myself with my two

  Children at my Father's feet, and implore his forgiveness, though

  I little hoped to obtain it. What was my consternation when

  informed that no one entrusted with the secret of their retreat

  was ever permitted to quit the troop of the Banditti; That I must

  give up all hopes of ever rejoining society, and consent

  instantly to accepting one of their Band for my Husband! My

  prayers and remonstrances were vain. They cast lots to decide to

  whose possession I should fall; I became the property of the

  infamous Baptiste. A Robber, who had once been a Monk,

  pronounced over us a burlesque rather than a religious Ceremony:

  I and my Children were delivered into the hands of my new

  Husband, and He conveyed us immediately to his home.

  'He assured me that He had long entertained for me the most

  ardent regard; But that Friendship for my deceased Lover had

  obliged him to stifle his desires. He endeavoured to reconcile

  me to my fate, and for some time treated me with respect and

  gentleness: At length finding that my aversion rather increased

  than diminished, He obtained those favours by violence, which I

  persisted to refuse him. No resource remained for me but to bear

  my sorrows with patience; I was conscious that I deserved them

  but too well. Flight was forbidden: My Children were in the

  power of Baptiste, and He had sworn that if I attempted to

  escape, their lives should pay for it. I had had too many

  opportunities of witnessing the barbarity of his nature to doubt

  his fulfilling his oath to the very letter. Sad experience had

  convinced me of the horrors of my situation: My first Lover had

  carefully concealed them from me; Baptiste rather rejoiced in

  opening my eyes to the cruelties of his profession, and strove to

  familiarise me with blood and slaughter.

  'My nature was licentious and warm, but not cruel: My conduct had

  been imprudent, but my heart was not unprincipled. Judge then

  what I must have felt at being a continual witness of crimes the

  most horrible and revolting! Judge how I must have grieved at

  being united to a Man who received the unsuspecting Guest with

  an air of openness and hospitality, at the very moment that He

  meditated his destruction. Chagrin and discontent preyed upon my

  constitution: The few charms bestowed on me by nature withered

  away, and the dejection of my countenance denoted the sufferings

  of my heart. I was tempted a thousand times to put an end to my

  existence; But the remembrance of my Children held my hand. I

  trembled to leave my dear Boys in my Tyrant's power, and trembled

  yet more for their virtue than their lives. The Second was still

  too young to benefit by my instructions; But in the heart of my

  Eldest I laboured unceasingly to plant those principles, which

  might enable him to avoid the crimes of his Parents. He listened

  to me with docility, or rather with eagerness. Even at his early

  age, He showed that He was not calculated for the society of

  Villains; and the only comfort which I enjoyed among my sorrows,

  was to witness the dawning virtues of my Theodore.

  'Such was my situation, when the perfidy of Don Alphonso's

  postillion conducted him to the Cottage. His youth, air, and

  manners interested me most forcibly in his behalf. The absence

  of my Husband's Sons gave me an opportunity which I had long

  wished to find, and I resolved to risque every thing to preserve

  the Stranger. The vigilance of Baptiste prevented me from

  warning Don Alphonso of his danger: I knew that my betraying the

  secret would be immediately punished with death; and however

  embittered was my life by calamities, I wanted courage to

  sacrifice it for the sake of preserving that of another Person.

  My only hope rested upon procuring succour from Strasbourg: At

  this I resolved to try; and should an opportunity offer of

  warning Don Alphonso of his danger unobserved, I was determined

  to seize it with avidity. By Baptiste's orders I went upstairs

  to make the Stranger's Bed: I spread upon it Sheets in which a

  Traveller had been murdered but a few nights before, and which

  still were stained with blood. I hoped that these marks would

  not escape the vigilance of our Guest, and that He would collect

  from them the designs of my perfidious Husband. Neither was this

  the only step which I took to preserve the Stranger. Theodore

  was confined to his bed by illness. I stole into his room

  unobserved by my Tyrant, communicated to him my project, and He

  entered into it with eagerness. He rose in spite of his malady,

  and dressed himself with all speed. I fastened one of the Sheets

  round his arms, and lowered him from the Window. He flew to the

  Stable, took Claude's Horse, and hastened to Strasbourg. Had He

  been accosted by the Banditti, He was to have declared himself

  sent upon a message by Baptiste, but fortunately He reached
the

  Town without meeting any obstacle. Immediately upon his arrival

  at Strasbourg, He entreated assistance from the Magistrature:

  His Story passed from mouth to mouth, and at length came to the

  knowledge of my Lord the Baron. Anxious for the safety of his

  Lady, whom He knew would be upon the road that Evening, it struck

  him that She might have fallen into the power of the Robbers. He

  accompanied Theodore who guided the Soldiers towards the Cottage,

  and arrived just in time to save us from falling once more into

  the hands of our Enemies.'

  Here I interrupted Marguerite to enquire why the sleepy potion

  had been presented to me. She said that Baptiste supposed me to

  have arms about me, and wished to incapacitate me from making

  resistance: It was a precaution which He always took, since as

  the Travellers had no hopes of escaping, Despair would have

  incited them to sell their lives dearly.

  The Baron then desired Marguerite to inform him, what were her

  present plans. I joined him in declaring my readiness to show my

  gratitude to her for the preservation of my life.

  'Disgusted with a world,' She replied, 'in which I have met with

  nothing but misfortunes, my only wish is to retire into a

  Convent. But first I must provide for my Children. I find that

  my Mother is no more, probably driven to an untimely grave by my

  desertion! My Father is still living; He is not an hard Man;

  Perhaps, Gentlemen, in spite of my ingratitude and imprudence,

  your intercessions may induce him to forgive me, and to take

  charge of his unfortunate Grand-sons. If you obtain this boon

  for me, you will repay my services a thousand-fold!'

  Both the Baron and myself assured Marguerite, that we would spare

  no pains to obtain her pardon: and that even should her Father be

  inflexible, She need be under no apprehensions respecting the

  fate of her Children. I engaged myself to provide for Theodore,

  and the Baron promised to take the youngest under his protection.

  The grateful Mother thanked us with tears for what She called

  generosity, but which in fact was no more than a proper sense of

  our obligations to her. She then left the room to put her little

  Boy to bed, whom fatigue and sleep had compleatly overpowered.

  The Baroness, on recovering and being informed from what dangers

  I had rescued her, set no bounds to the expressions of her

  gratitude. She was joined so warmly by her Husband in pressing

  me to accompany them to their Castle in Bavaria, that I found it

  impossible to resist their entreaties. During a week which we

  passed at Strasbourg, the interests of Marguerite were not

  forgotten: In our application to her Father we succeeded as amply

  as we could wish. The good old Man had lost his Wife: He had no

  Children but this unfortunate Daughter, of whom He had received

  no news for almost fourteen years. He was surrounded by distant

  Relations, who waited with impatience for his decease in order to

  get possession of his money. When therefore Marguerite appeared

  again so unexpectedly, He considered her as a gift from heaven:

  He received her and her Children with open arms, and insisted

  upon their establishing themselves in his House without delay.

  The disappointed Cousins were obliged to give place. The old Man

  would not hear of his Daughter's retiring into a Convent: He

  said that She was too necessary to his happiness, and She was

  easily persuaded to relinquish her design. But no persuasions

  could induce Theodore to give up the plan which I had at first

  marked out for him. He had attached himself to me most

  sincerely during my stay at Strasbourg; and when I was on the

  point of leaving it, He besought me with tears to take him into

  my service: He set forth all his little talents in the most

  favourable colours, and tried to convince me that I should find

  him of infinite use to me upon the road. I was unwilling to

  charge myself with a Lad but scarcely turned of thirteen, whom I

  knew could only be a burthen to me: However, I could not resist

  the entreaties of this affectionate Youth, who in fact possessed

  a thousand estimable qualities. With some difficulty He

  persuaded his relations to let him follow me, and that permission

  once obtained, He was dubbed with the title of my Page. Having

  passed a week at Strasbourg, Theodore and myself set out for

  Bavaria in company with the Baron and his Lady. These Latter as

  well as myself had forced Marguerite to accept several presents

  of value, both for herself, and her youngest Son: On leaving

  her, I promised his Mother faithfully that I would restore

  Theodore to her within the year.

  I have related this adventure at length, Lorenzo, that you might

  understand the means by which 'The Adventurer, Alphonso

  d'Alvarada got introduced into the Castle of Lindenberg.' Judge

  from this specimen how much faith should be given to your Aunt's

  assertions!

  VOLUME II

  CHAPTER I

  Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the Earth hide thee!

  Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold!

  Thou hast no speculation in those eyes

  Which Thou dost glare with! Hence, horrible shadow!

  Unreal mockery hence!

  Macbeth.

  Continuation of the History of Don Raymond.

  My journey was uncommonly agreeable: I found the Baron a Man of

  some sense, but little knowledge of the world. He had past a

  great part of his life without stirring beyond the precincts of

  his own domains, and consequently his manners were far from being

  the most polished: But He was hearty, good-humoured, and

  friendly. His attention to me was all that I could wish, and I

  had every reason to be satisfied with his behaviour. His ruling

  passion was Hunting, which He had brought himself to consider as

  a serious occupation; and when talking over some remarkable

  chace, He treated the subject with as much gravity as it had

  been a Battle on which the fate of two kingdoms was depending. I

  happened to be a tolerable Sportsman: Soon after my arrival at

  Lindenberg I gave some proofs of my dexterity. The Baron

  immediately marked me down for a Man of Genius, and vowed to me

  an eternal friendship.

  That friendship was become to me by no means indifferent. At the

  Castle of Lindenberg I beheld for the first time your Sister, the

  lovely Agnes. For me whose heart was unoccupied, and who grieved

  at the void, to see her and to love her were the same. I found

  in Agnes all that was requisite to secure my affection. She was

  then scarcely sixteen; Her person light and elegant was already

  formed; She possessed several talents in perfection, particularly

  those of Music and drawing: Her character was gay, open, and

  good-humoured; and the graceful simplicity of her dress and

  manners formed an advantageous contrast to the art and studied

  Coquetry of the Parisian Dames, whom I had just quitted. From

  the moment that I beheld her, I felt the most lively interest in

  her fate. I made many enquiries resp
ecting her of the Baroness.

  'She is my Niece,' replied that Lady; 'You are still ignorant,

  Don Alphonso, that I am your Countrywoman. I am Sister to the

  Duke of Medina Celi: Agnes is the Daughter of my second Brother,

  Don Gaston: She has been destined to the Convent from her

  cradle, and will soon make her profession at Madrid.'

  (Here Lorenzo interrupted the Marquis by an exclamation of

  surprise.

  'Intended for the Convent from her cradle?' said He; 'By heaven,

  this is the first word that I ever heard of such a design!'

  'I believe it, my dear Lorenzo,' answered Don Raymond; 'But you

  must listen to me with patience. You will not be less surprised,

  when I relate some particulars of your family still unknown to

  you, and which I have learnt from the mouth of Agnes herself.'

  He then resumed his narrative as follows.)

  You cannot but be aware that your Parents were unfortunately

  Slaves to the grossest superstition: When this foible was called

  into play, their every other sentiment, their every other passion

  yielded to its irresistible strength. While She was big with

  Agnes, your Mother was seized by a dangerous illness, and given

  over by her Physicians. In this situation, Donna Inesilla vowed,

  that if She recovered from her malady, the Child then living in

  her bosom if a Girl should be dedicated to St. Clare, if a Boy to

  St. Benedict. Her prayers were heard; She got rid of her

  complaint; Agnes entered the world alive, and was immediately

  destined to the service of St. Clare.

  Don Gaston readily chimed in with his Lady's wishes: But knowing

  the sentiments of the Duke, his Brother, respecting a Monastic

  life, it was determined that your Sister's destination should be

  carefully concealed from him. The better to guard the secret, it

  was resolved that Agnes should accompany her Aunt, Donna Rodolpha

  into Germany, whither that Lady was on the point of following her

  new-married Husband, Baron Lindenberg. On her arrival at that

  Estate, the young Agnes was put into a Convent, situated but a

  few miles from the Castle. The Nuns to whom her education was

  confided performed their charge with exactitude: They made her

  a perfect Mistress of many talents, and strove to infuse into her

  mind a taste for the retirement and tranquil pleasures of a

  Convent. But a secret instinct made the young Recluse sensible

 

‹ Prev