The Monk - A Romance

by The Monk [lit]

  had really seen her Mother's Ghost, had heard the period of her

  dissolution announced and declared that She never should quit

  her bed alive. Ambrosio advised her against encouraging these

  sentiments, and then quitted her chamber, having promised to

  repeat his visit on the morrow. Antonia received this assurance

  with every mark of joy: But the Monk easily perceived that He

  was not equally acceptable to her Attendant. Flora obeyed

  Elvira's injunctions with the most scrupulous observance. She

  examined every circumstance with an anxious eye likely in the

  least to prejudice her young Mistress, to whom She had been

  attached for many years. She was a Native of Cuba, had followed

  Elvira to Spain, and loved the young Antonia with a Mother's

  affection. Flora quitted not the room for a moment while the

  Abbot remained there: She watched his every word, his every

  look, his every action. He saw that her suspicious eye was

  always fixed upon him, and conscious that his designs would not

  bear inspection so minute, He felt frequently confused and

  disconcerted. He was aware that She doubted the purity of his

  intentions; that She would never leave him alone with Antonia,

  and his Mistress defended by the presence of this vigilant

  Observer, He despaired of finding the means to gratify his

  passion.

  As He quitted the House, Jacintha met him, and begged that some

  Masses might be sung for the repose of Elvira's soul, which She

  doubted not was suffering in Purgatory. He promised not to

  forget her request; But He perfectly gained the old Woman's

  heart by engaging to watch during the whole of the approaching

  night in the haunted chamber. Jacintha could find no terms

  sufficiently strong to express her gratitude, and the Monk

  departed loaded with her benedictions.

  It was broad day when He returned to the Abbey. His first care

  was to communicate what had past to his Confident. He felt too

  sincere a passion for Antonia to have heard unmoved the

  prediction of her speedy death, and He shuddered at the idea of

  losing an object so dear to him. Upon this head Matilda

  reassured him. She confirmed the arguments which Himself had

  already used: She declared Antonia to have been deceived by the

  wandering of her brain, by the Spleen which opprest her at the

  moment, and by the natural turn of her mind to superstition, and

  the marvellous. As to Jacintha's account, the absurdity refuted

  itself; The Abbot hesitated not to believe that She had

  fabricated the whole story, either confused by terror, or hoping

  to make him comply more readily with her request. Having

  overruled the Monk's apprehensions, Matilda continued thus.

  'The prediction and the Ghost are equally false; But it must be

  your care, Ambrosio, to verify the first. Antonia within three

  days must indeed be dead to the world; But She must live for you.

  Her present illness, and this fancy which She has taken into her

  head, will colour a plan which I have long meditated, but which

  was impracticable without your procuring access to Antonia. She

  shall be yours, not for a single night, but for ever. All the

  vigilance of her Duenna shall not avail her: You shall riot

  unrestrained in the charms of your Mistress. This very day must

  the scheme be put in execution, for you have no time to lose.

  The Nephew of the Duke of Medina Celi prepares to demand Antonia

  for his Bride: In a few days She will be removed to the Palace

  of her Relation, the Marquis de las Cisternas, and there She will

  be secure from your attempts. Thus during your absence have I

  been informed by my Spies, who are ever employed in bringing me

  intelligence for your service. Now then listen to me. There is

  a juice extracted from certain herbs, known but to few, which

  brings on the Person who drinks it the exact image of Death. Let

  this be administered to Antonia: You may easily find means to

  pour a few drops into her medicine. The effect will be throwing

  her into strong convulsions for an hour: After which her blood

  will gradually cease to flow, and heart to beat; A mortal

  paleness will spread itself over her features, and She will

  appear a Corse to every eye. She has no Friends about her: You

  may charge yourself unsuspected with the superintendence of her

  funeral, and cause her to be buried in the Vaults of St. Clare.

  Their solitude and easy access render these Caverns favourable to

  your designs. Give Antonia the soporific draught this Evening:

  Eight and forty hours after She has drank it, Life will revive to

  her bosom. She will then be absolutely in your power: She will

  find all resistance unavailing, and necessity will compel her to

  receive you in her arms.'

  'Antonia will be in my power!' exclaimed the Monk; 'Matilda, you

  transport me! At length then, happiness will be mine, and that

  happiness will be Matilda's gift, will be the gift of friendship!

  I shall clasp Antonia in my arms, far from every prying eye, from

  every tormenting Intruder! I shall sigh out my soul upon her

  bosom; Shall teach her young heart the first rudiments of

  pleasure, and revel uncontrouled in the endless variety of her

  charms! And shall this delight indeed by mine? Shall I give the

  reins to my desires, and gratify every wild tumultuous wish? Oh!

  Matilda, how can I express to you my gratitude?'

  'By profiting by my counsels. Ambrosio, I live but to serve you:

  Your interest and happiness are equally mine. Be your person

  Antonia's, but to your friendship and your heart I still assert

  my claim. Contributing to yours forms now my only pleasure.

  Should my exertions procure the gratification of your wishes, I

  shall consider my trouble to be amply repaid. But let us lose no

  time. The liquor of which I spoke is only to be found in St.

  Clare's Laboratory. Hasten then to the Prioress; Request of her

  admission to the Laboratory, and it will not be denied. There is

  a Closet at the lower end of the great Room, filled with liquids

  of different colours and qualities. The Bottle in question

  stands by itself upon the third shelf on the left. It contains a

  greenish liquor: Fill a small phial with it when you are

  unobserved, and Antonia is your own.'

  The Monk hesitated not to adopt this infamous plan. His desires,

  but too violent before, had acquired fresh vigour from the sight

  of Antonia. As He sat by her bedside, accident had discovered to

  him some of those charms which till then had been concealed from

  him: He found them even more perfect, than his ardent imagination

  had pictured them. Sometimes her white and polished arm was

  displayed in arranging the pillow: Sometimes a sudden movement

  discovered part of her swelling bosom: But whereever the

  new-found charm presented itself, there rested the Friar's

  gloting eyes. Scarcely could He master himself sufficiently to

  conceal his desires from Antonia and her vigilant Duenna.

  Inflamed by the remembrance of these beauties, He entered into

  Matilda's scheme w
ithout hesitation.

  No sooner were Matins over than He bent his course towards the

  Convent of St. Clare: His arrival threw the whole Sisterhood

  into the utmost amazement. The Prioress was sensible of the

  honour done her Convent by his paying it his first visit, and

  strove to express her gratitude by every possible attention. He

  was paraded through the Garden, shown all the reliques of Saints

  and Martyrs, and treated with as much respect and distinction as

  had He been the Pope himself. On his part, Ambrosio received the

  Domina's civilities very graciously, and strove to remove her

  surprize at his having broken through his resolution. He stated,

  that among his penitents, illness prevented many from quitting

  their Houses. These were exactly the People who most needed his

  advice and the comforts of Religion: Many representations had

  been made to him upon this account, and though highly repugnant

  to his own wishes, He had found it absolutely necessary for the

  service of heaven to change his determination, and quit his

  beloved retirement. The Prioress applauded his zeal in his

  profession and his charity towards Mankind: She declared that

  Madrid was happy in possessing a Man so perfect and

  irreproachable. In such discourse, the Friar at length reached

  the Laboratory. He found the Closet: The Bottle stood in the

  place which Matilda had described, and the Monk seized an

  opportunity to fill his phial unobserved with the soporific

  liquor. Then having partaken of a Collation in the Refectory, He

  retired from the Convent pleased with the success of his visit,

  and leaving the Nuns delighted by the honour conferred upon them.

  He waited till Evening before He took the road to Antonia's

  dwelling. Jacintha welcomed him with transport, and besought him

  not to forget his promise to pass the night in the haunted

  Chamber: That promise He now repeated. He found Antonia

  tolerably well, but still harping upon the Ghost's prediction.

  Flora moved not from her Lady's Bed, and by symptoms yet stronger

  than on the former night testified her dislike to the Abbot's

  presence. Still Ambrosio affected not to observe them. The

  Physician arrived, while He was conversing with Antonia. It was

  dark already; Lights were called for, and Flora was compelled to

  descend for them herself. However, as She left a third Person in

  the room, and expected to be absent but a few minutes, She

  believed that She risqued nothing in quitting her post. No

  sooner had She left the room, than Ambrosio moved towards the

  Table, on which stood Antonia's medicine: It was placed in a

  recess of the window. The Physician seated in an armed-chair,

  and employed in questioning his Patient, paid no attention to the

  proceedings of the Monk. Ambrosio seized the opportunity: He

  drew out the fatal Phial, and let a few drops fall into the

  medicine. He then hastily left the Table, and returned to the

  seat which He had quitted. When Flora made her appearance with

  lights, every thing seemed to be exactly as She had left it.

  The Physician declared that Antonia might quit her chamber the

  next day with perfect safety. He recommended her following the

  same prescription which, on the night before, had procured her a

  refreshing sleep: Flora replied that the draught stood ready

  upon the Table: He advised the Patient to take it without delay,

  and then retired. Flora poured the medicine into a Cup and

  presented it to her Mistress. At that moment Ambrosio's courage

  failed him. Might not Matilda have deceived him? Might not

  Jealousy have persuaded her to destroy her Rival, and substitute

  poison in the room of an opiate? This idea appeared so

  reasonable that He was on the point of preventing her from

  swallowing the medicine. His resolution was adopted too late:

  The Cup was already emptied, and Antonia restored it into Flora's

  hands. No remedy was now to be found: Ambrosio could only

  expect the moment impatiently, destined to decide upon Antonia's

  life or death, upon his own happiness or despair.

  Dreading to create suspicion by his stay, or betray himself by

  his mind's agitation, He took leave of his Victim, and withdrew

  from the room. Antonia parted from him with less cordiality than

  on the former night. Flora had represented to her Mistress that

  to admit his visits was to disobey her Mother's orders: She

  described to her his emotion on entering the room, and the fire

  which sparkled in his eyes while He gazed upon her. This had

  escaped Antonia's observation, but not her Attendant's; Who

  explaining the Monk's designs and their probable consequences in

  terms much clearer than Elvira's, though not quite so delicate,

  had succeeded in alarming her young Lady, and persuading her to

  treat him more distantly than She had done hitherto. The idea of

  obeying her Mother's will at once determined Antonia. Though She

  grieved at losing his society, She conquered herself sufficiently

  to receive the Monk with some degree of reserve and coldness.

  She thanked him with respect and gratitude for his former visits,

  but did not invite his repeating them in future. It now was not

  the Friar's interest to solicit admission to her presence, and He

  took leave of her as if not designing to return. Fully

  persuaded that the acquaintance which She dreaded was now at an

  end, Flora was so much worked upon by his easy compliance that

  She began to doubt the justice of her suspicions. As She lighted

  him down Stairs, She thanked him for having endeavoured to root

  out from Antonia's mind her superstitious terrors of the

  Spectre's prediction: She added, that as He seemed interested in

  Donna Antonia's welfare, should any change take place in her

  situation, She would be careful to let him know it. The Monk in

  replying took pains to raise his voice, hoping that Jacintha

  would hear it. In this He succeeded; As He reached the foot of

  the Stairs with his Conductress, the Landlady failed not to make

  her appearance.

  'Why surely you are not going away, reverend Father?' cried She;

  'Did you not promise to pass the night in the haunted Chamber?

  Christ Jesus! I shall be left alone with the Ghost, and a fine

  pickle I shall be in by morning! Do all I could, say all I

  could, that obstinate old Brute, Simon Gonzalez, refused to marry

  me today; And before tomorrow comes, I suppose, I shall be torn

  to pieces, by the Ghosts, and Goblins, and Devils, and what not!

  For God's sake, your Holiness, do not leave me in such a woeful

  condition! On my bended knees I beseech you to keep your

  promise: Watch this night in the haunted chamber; Lay the

  Apparition in the Red Sea, and Jacintha remembers you in her

  prayers to the last day of her existence!'

  This request Ambrosio expected and desired; Yet He affected to

  raise objections, and to seem unwilling to keep his word. He

  told Jacintha that the Ghost existed nowhere but in her own

  brain, and that her insisting upon his staying all night in the

  House wa
s ridiculous and useless. Jacintha was obstinate: She

  was not to be convinced, and pressed him so urgently not to leave

  her a prey to the Devil, that at length He granted her request.

  All this show of resistance imposed not upon Flora, who was

  naturally of a suspicious temper. She suspected the Monk to be

  acting a part very contrary to his own inclinations, and that He

  wished for no better than to remain where He was. She even went

  so far as to believe that Jacintha was in his interest; and the

  poor old Woman was immediately set down, as no better than a

  Procuress. While She applauded herself for having penetrated

  into this plot against her Lady's honour, She resolved in secret

  to render it fruitless.

  'So then,' said She to the Abbot with a look half-satirical and

  half indignant; 'So then you mean to stay here tonight? Do so,

  in God's name! Nobody will prevent you. Sit up to watch for the

  Ghost's arrival: I shall sit up too, and the Lord grant that I

  may see nothing worse than a Ghost! I quit not Donna Antonia's

  Bedside during this blessed night: Let me see any one dare to

  enter the room, and be He mortal or immortal, be He Ghost, Devil,

  or Man, I warrant his repenting that ever He crossed the

  threshold!'

  This hint was sufficiently strong, and Ambrosio understood its

  meaning. But instead of showing that He perceived her

  suspicions; He replied mildly that He approved the Duenna's

  precautions, and advised her to persevere in her intention.

  This, She assured him faithfully that He might depend upon her

  doing. Jacintha then conducted him into the chamber where the

  Ghost had appeared, and Flora returned to her Lady's.

  Jacintha opened the door of the haunted room with a trembling

  hand: She ventured to peep in; But the wealth of India would not

  have tempted her to cross the threshold. She gave the Taper to

  the Monk, wished him well through the adventure, and hastened to

  be gone. Ambrosio entered. He bolted the door, placed the light

  upon the Table, and seated himself in the Chair which on the

  former night had sustained Antonia. In spite of Matilda's

  assurances that the Spectre was a mere creation of fancy, his

  mind was impressed with a certain mysterious horror. He in vain

  endeavoured to shake it off. The silence of the night, the story

  of the Apparition, the chamber wainscotted with dark oak