his metamorphoses were to very little purpose: He regularly
returned to the Palace de las Cisternas without any intelligence
to confirm his Master's hopes. One day He took it into his head
to disguise himself as a Beggar. He put a patch over his left
eye, took his Guitar in hand, and posted himself at the Gate of
the Convent.
'If Agnes is really confined in the Convent,' thought He, 'and
hears my voice, She will recollect it, and possibly may find
means to let me know that She is here.'
With this idea He mingled with a crowd of Beggars who assembled
daily at the Gate of St. Clare to receive Soup, which the Nuns
were accustomed to distribute at twelve o'clock. All were
provided with jugs or bowls to carry it away; But as Theodore had
no utensil of this kind, He begged leave to eat his portion at
the Convent door. This was granted without difficulty: His
sweet voice, and in spite of his patched eye, his engaging
countenance, won the heart of the good old Porteress, who, aided
by a Lay-Sister, was busied in serving to each his Mess.
Theodore was bad to stay till the Others should depart, and
promised that his request should then be granted. The Youth
desired no better, since it was not to eat Soup that He presented
himself at the Convent. He thanked the Porteress for her
permission, retired from the Door, and seating himself upon a
large stone, amused himself in tuning his Guitar while the
Beggars were served.
As soon as the Crowd was gone, Theodore was beckoned to the Gate,
and desired to come in. He obeyed with infinite readiness, but
affected great respect at passing the hallowed Threshold, and to
be much daunted by the presence of the Reverend Ladies. His
feigned timidity flattered the vanity of the Nuns, who
endeavoured to reassure him. The Porteress took him into her
awn little Parlour: In the meanwhile, the Lay-Sister went to
the Kitchen, and soon returned with a double portion of Soup, of
better quality than what was given to the Beggars. His Hostess
added some fruits and confections from her own private store, and
Both encouraged the Youth to dine heartily. To all these
attentions He replied with much seeming gratitude, and abundance
of blessings upon his benefactresses. While He ate, the Nuns
admired the delicacy of his features, the beauty of his hair, and
the sweetness and grace which accompanied all his actions. They
lamented to each other in whispers, that so charming a Youth
should be exposed to the seductions of the World, and agreed,
that He would be a worthy Pillar of the Catholic Church. They
concluded their conference by resolving that Heaven would be
rendered a real service if they entreated the Prioress to
intercede with Ambrosio for the Beggar's admission into the order
of Capuchins.
This being determined, the Porteress, who was a person of great
influence in the Convent, posted away in all haste to the
Domina's Cell. Here She made so flaming a narrative of
Theodore's merits that the old Lady grew curious to see him.
Accordingly, the Porteress was commissioned to convey him to the
Parlour grate. In the interim, the supposed Beggar was sifting
the Lay-Sister with respect to the fate of Agnes: Her evidence
only corroborated the Domina's assertions. She said that Agnes
had been taken ill on returning from confession, had never
quitted her bed from that moment, and that She had herself been
present at the Funeral. She even attested having seen her dead
body, and assisted with her own hands in adjusting it upon the
Bier. This account discouraged Theodore: Yet as He had pushed
the adventure so far, He resolved to witness its conclusion.
The Porteress now returned, and ordered him to follow her. He
obeyed, and was conducted into the Parlour, where the Lady
Prioress was already posted at the Grate. The Nuns surrounded
her, who all flocked with eagerness to a scene which promised
some diversion. Theodore saluted them with profound respect, and
his presence had the power to smooth for a moment even the stern
brow of the Superior. She asked several questions respecting his
Parents, his religion, and what had reduced him to a state of
Beggary. To these demands his answers were perfectly
satisfactory and perfectly false. He was then asked his opinion
of a monastic life: He replied in terms of high estimation and
respect for it. Upon this, the Prioress told him that his
obtaining an entrance into a religious order was not impossible;
that her recommendation would not permit his poverty to be an
obstacle, and that if She found him deserving it, He might depend
in future upon her protection. Theodore assured her that to
merit her favour would be his highest ambition; and having
ordered him to return next day, when She would talk with him
further, the Domina quitted the Parlour.
The Nuns, whom respect for the Superior had till then kept
silent, now crowded all together to the Grate, and assailed the
Youth with a multitude of questions. He had already examined
each with attention: Alas! Agnes was not amongst them. The Nuns
heaped question upon question so thickly that it was scarcely
possible for him to reply. One asked where He was born, since
his accent declared him to be a Foreigner: Another wanted to
know, why He wore a patch upon his left eye: Sister Helena
enquired whether He had not a Sister like him, because She should
like such a Companion; and Sister Rachael was fully persuaded
that the Brother would be the pleasanter Companion of the Two.
Theodore amused himself with retailing to the credulous Nuns for
truths all the strange stories which his imagination could
invent. He related to them his supposed adventures, and
penetrated every Auditor with astonishment, while He talked of
Giants, Savages, Ship-wrecks, and Islands inhabited
'By Anthropophagi, and Men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders,'
With many other circumstances to the full as remarkable. He said,
that He was born in Terra Incognita, was educated at an Hottentot
University, and had past two years among the Americans of
Silesia.
'For what regards the loss of my eye' said He, 'it was a just
punishment upon me for disrespect to the Virgin, when I made my
second pilgrimage to Loretto. I stood near the Altar in the
miraculous Chapel: The Monks were proceeding to array the Statue
in her best apparel. The Pilgrims were ordered to close their
eyes during this ceremony: But though by nature extremely
religious, curiosity was too powerful. At the moment . . . . . I
shall penetrate you with horror, reverend Ladies, when I reveal
my crime! . . . . At the moment that the Monks were changing her
shift, I ventured to open my left eye, and gave a little peep
towards the Statue. That look was my last! The Glory which
surrounded the Virgin was too great to be supported. I hastily
shut my sacrilegious eye, and never have bee
n able to unclose it
since!'
At the relation of this miracle the Nuns all crossed themselves,
and promised to intercede with the blessed Virgin for the
recovery of his sight. They expressed their wonder at the extent
of his travels, and at the strange adventures which He had met
with at so early an age. They now remarked his Guitar, and
enquired whether he was an adept in Music. He replied with
modesty that it was not for him to decide upon his talents, but
requested permission to appeal to them as Judges. This was
granted without difficulty.
'But at least,' said the old Porteress, 'take care not to sing
any thing profane.'
'You may depend upon my discretion,' replied Theodore: 'You shall
hear how dangerous it is for young Women to abandon themselves
to their passions, illustrated by the adventure of a Damsel who
fell suddenly in love with an unknown Knight.'
'But is the adventure true?' enquired the Porteress.
'Every word of it. It happened in Denmark, and the Heroine was
thought so beautiful that She was known by no other name but
that of ''the lovely Maid''.'
'In Denmark, say you?' mumbled an old Nun; 'Are not the People
all Blacks in Denmark?'
'By no means, reverend Lady; They are of a delicate pea-green
with flame-coloured hair and whiskers.'
'Mother of God! Pea-green?' exclaimed Sister Helena; 'Oh! 'tis
impossible!'
'Impossible?' said the Porteress with a look of contempt and
exultation: 'Not at all: When I was a young Woman, I remember
seeing several of them myself.'
Theodore now put his instrument in proper order. He had read the
story of a King of England whose prison was discovered by a
Minstrel; and He hoped that the same scheme would enable him to
discover Agnes, should She be in the Convent. He chose a Ballad
which She had taught him herself in the Castle of Lindenberg: She
might possibly catch the sound, and He hoped to hear her replying
to some of the Stanzas. His Guitar was now in tune, and He
prepared to strike it.
'But before I begin,' said He 'it is necessary to inform you,
Ladies, that this same Denmark is terribly infested by Sorcerers,
Witches, and Evil Spirits. Every element possesses its
appropriate Daemons. The Woods are haunted by a malignant power,
called ''the Erl- or Oak-King:'' He it is who blights the Trees,
spoils the Harvest, and commands the Imps and Goblins: He
appears in the form of an old Man of majestic figure, with a
golden Crown and long white beard: His principal amusement is to
entice young Children from their Parents, and as soon as He gets
them into his Cave, He tears them into a thousand pieces--The
Rivers are governed by another Fiend, called ''the Water-King:''
His province is to agitate the deep, occasion ship-wrecks, and
drag the drowning Sailors beneath the waves: He wears the
appearance of a Warrior, and employs himself in luring young
Virgins into his snare: What He does with them, when He catches
them in the water, Reverend Ladies, I leave for you to
imagine--''The Fire-King'' seems to be a Man all formed of
flames: He raises the Meteors and wandering lights which
beguile Travellers into ponds and marshes, and He directs the
lightning where it may do most mischief--The last of these
elementary Daemons is called ''the Cloud-King;'' His figure is
that of a beautiful Youth, and He is distinguished by two large
sable Wings: Though his outside is so enchanting, He is not a
bit better disposed than the Others: He is continually employed
in raising Storms, tearing up Forests by the roots, and blowing
Castles and Convents about the ears of their Inhabitants. The
First has a Daughter, who is Queen of the Elves and Fairies; The
Second has a Mother, who is a powerful Enchantress: Neither of
these Ladies are worth more than the Gentlemen: I do not
remember to have heard any family assigned to the two other
Daemons, but at present I have no business with any of them
except the Fiend of the Waters. He is the Hero of my Ballad; but
I thought it necessary before I began, to give you some account
of his proceedings--'
Theodore then played a short symphony; After which, stretching
his voice to its utmost extent to facilitate its reaching the ear
of Agnes, He sang the following Stanzas.
THE WATER-KING
A DANISH BALLAD
With gentle murmur flowed the Tide,
While by the fragrant flowery side
The lovely Maid with carols gay
To Mary's Church pursued her way.
The Water-Fiend's malignant eye
Along the Banks beheld her hie;
Straight to his Mother-witch He sped,
And thus in suppliant accents said:
'Oh! Mother! Mother! now advise,
How I may yonder Maid surprize:
Oh! Mother! Mother! Now explain,
How I may yonder Maid obtain.'
The Witch She gave him armour white;
She formed him like a gallant Knight;
Of water clear next made her hand
A Steed, whose housings were of sand.
The Water-King then swift He went;
To Mary's Church his steps He bent:
He bound his Courser to the Door,
And paced the Church-yard three times four.
His Courser to the door bound He,
And paced the Church-yard four time three:
Then hastened up the Aisle, where all
The People flocked, both great and small.
The Priest said, as the Knight drew near,
'And wherefore comes the white Chief here?'
The lovely Maid She smiled aside;
'Oh! would I were the white Chief's Bride!'
He stept o'er Benches one and two;
'Oh! lovely Maid, I die for You!'
He stept o'er Benches two and three;
'Oh! lovely Maiden, go with me!'
Then sweet She smiled, the lovely Maid,
And while She gave her hand, She said,
'Betide me joy, betide me woe,
O'er Hill, o'er dale, with thee I go.'
The Priest their hands together joins:
They dance, while clear the moon-beam shines;
And little thinks the Maiden bright,
Her Partner is the Water-spright.
Oh! had some spirit deigned to sing,
'Your Partner is the Water-King!'
The Maid had fear and hate confest,
And cursed the hand which then She prest.
But nothing giving cause to think,
How near She strayed to danger's brink,
Still on She went, and hand in hand
The Lovers reached the yellow sand.
'Ascend this Steed with me, my Dear;
We needs must cross the streamlet here;
Ride boldly in; It is not deep;
The winds are hushed, the billows sleep.'
Thus spoke the Water-King. The Maid
Her Traitor-Bride-groom's wish obeyed:
And soon She saw the Courser lave
Delighted in his parent wave.
'Stop! Stop! my Love! The waters blue
E'en now my shrinking foot bedew!'
'Oh! lay aside your fears, sweet Heart!
We now have reached the
deepest part.'
'Stop! Stop! my Love! For now I see
The waters rise above my knee.'
'Oh! lay aside your fears, sweet Heart!
We now have reached the deepest part.'
'Stop! Stop! for God's sake, stop! For Oh!
The waters o'er my bosom flow!'--
Scarce was the word pronounced, when Knight
And Courser vanished from her sight.
She shrieks, but shrieks in vain; for high
The wild winds rising dull the cry;
The Fiend exults; The Billows dash,
And o'er their hapless Victim wash.
Three times while struggling with the stream,
The lovely Maid was heard to scream;
But when the Tempest's rage was o'er,
The lovely Maid was seen no more.
Warned by this Tale, ye Damsels fair,
To whom you give your love beware!
Believe not every handsome Knight,
And dance not with the Water-Spright!
The Youth ceased to sing. The Nuns were delighted with the
sweetness of his voice and masterly manner of touching the
Instrument: But however acceptable this applause would have been
at any other time, at present it was insipid to Theodore. His
artifice had not succeeded. He paused in vain between the
Stanzas: No voice replied to his, and He abandoned the hope of
equalling Blondel.
The Convent Bell now warned the Nuns that it was time to
assemble in the Refectory. They were obliged to quit the Grate;
They thanked the Youth for the entertainment which his Music had
afforded them, and charged him to return the next day. This He
promised: The Nuns, to give him the greater inclination to keep
his word, told him that He might always depend upon the Convent
for his meals, and each of them made him some little present.
One gave him a box of sweetmeats; Another, an Agnus Dei; Some
brought reliques of Saints, waxen Images, and consecrated
Crosses; and Others presented him with pieces of those works in
which the Religious excel, such as embroidery, artificial
flowers, lace, and needlework. All these He was advised to
sell, in order to put himself into better case; and He was
assured that it would be easy to dispose of them, since the
Spaniards hold the performances of the Nuns in high estimation.
Having received these gifts with seeming respect and gratitude,
He remarked that, having no Basket, He knew not how to convey
them away. Several of the Nuns were hastening in search of one,
The Monk - A Romance Page 32