volume01-第13节

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　own　interest　than　by　yours：　　Believe；　that　I　feel　for　you　the　warmest　friendship；　the　truest　compassion；　and　that　you　cannot　feel　more　grieved　than　I　do；　when　I　declare　to　you　that　we　must　never　meet　again。'

'Ambrosio！'　She　cried；　in　a　voice　at　once　expressive　of　surprise　and　sorrow。

'Be　calm；　my　Friend！　　My　Rosario！　　Still　let　me　call　you　by　that　name　so　dear　to　me！　　Our　separation　is　unavoidable；　I　blush　to　own；　how　sensibly　it　affects　me。　But　yet　it　must　be　so。　　I　feel　myself　incapable　of　treating　you　with　indifference；　and　that　very　conviction　obliges　me　to　insist　upon　your　departure。　　Matilda；　you　must　stay　here　no　longer。'

'Oh！　where　shall　I　now　seek　for　probity？　　Disgusted　with　a　perfidious　world；　in　what　happy　region　does　Truth　conceal　herself？　　Father；　I　hoped　that　She　resided　here；　I　thought　that　your　bosom　had　been　her　favourite　shrine。　　And　you　too　prove　false？　　Oh　God！　　And　you　too　can　betray　me？'

'Matilda！'

'Yes；　Father；　Yes！　'Tis　with　justice　that　I　reproach　you。　　Oh！　where　are　your　promises？　　My　Noviciate　is　not　expired；　and　yet　will　you　compell　me　to　quit　the　Monastery？　　Can　you　have　the　heart　to　drive　me　from　you？　　And　have　I　not　received　your　solemn　oath　to　the　contrary？'

'I　will　not　compell　you　to　quit　the　Monastery：　　You　have　received　my　solemn　oath　to　the　contrary。　　But　yet　when　I　throw　myself　upon　your　generosity；　when　I　declare　to　you　the　embarrassments　in　which　your　presence　involves　me；　will　you　not　release　me　from　that　oath？　　Reflect　upon　the　danger　of　a　discovery；　upon　the　opprobrium　in　which　such　an　event　would　plunge　me：　Reflect　that　my　honour　and　reputation　are　at　stake；　and　that　my　peace　of　mind　depends　on　your　compliance。　　As　yet　my　heart　is　free；　I　shall　separate　from　you　with　regret；　but　not　with　despair。　　Stay　here；　and　a　few　weeks　will　sacrifice　my　happiness　on　the　altar　of　your　charms。　　You　are　but　too　interesting；　too　amiable！　　I　should　love　you；　I　should　doat　on　you！　　My　bosom　would　become　the　prey　of　desires　which　Honour　and　my　profession　forbid　me　to　gratify。　　If　I　resisted　them；　the　impetuosity　of　my　wishes　unsatisfied　would　drive　me　to　madness：　　If　I　yielded　to　the　temptation；　I　should　sacrifice　to　one　moment　of　guilty　pleasure　my　reputation　in　this　world；　my　salvation　in　the　next。　　To　you　then　I　fly　for　defence　against　myself。　　Preserve　me　from　losing　the　reward　of　thirty　years　of　sufferings！　　Preserve　me　from　becoming　the　Victim　of　Remorse！　　YOUR　heart　has　already　felt　the　anguish　of　hopeless　love；　Oh！　then　if　you　really　value　me；　spare　mine　that　anguish！　　Give　me　back　my　promise；　Fly　from　these　walls。　　Go；　and　you　bear　with　you　my　warmest　prayers　for　your　happiness；　my　friendship；　my　esteem　and　admiration：　　Stay；　and　you　become　to　me　the　source　of　danger；　of　sufferings；　of　despair！　　Answer　me；　Matilda；　What　is　your　resolve？'She　was　silent'Will　you　not　speak；　Matilda？　　Will　you　not　name　your　choice？'

'Cruel！　Cruel！'　She　exclaimed；　wringing　her　hands　in　agony；　'You　know　too　well　that　you　offer　me　no　choice！　You　know　too　well　that　I　can　have　no　will　but　yours！'

'I　was　not　then　deceived！　　Matilda's　generosity　equals　my　expectations。'

'Yes；　I　will　prove　the　truth　of　my　affection　by　submitting　to　a　decree　which　cuts　me　to　the　very　heart。　　Take　back　your　promise。　　I　will　quit　the　Monastery　this　very　day。　　I　have　a　Relation；　Abbess　of　a　Covent　in　Estramadura：　　To　her　will　I　bend　my　steps；　and　shut　myself　from　the　world　for　ever。　　Yet　tell　me；　Father；　Shall　I　bear　your　good　wishes　with　me　to　my　solitude？　　Will　you　sometimes　abstract　your　attention　from　heavenly　objects　to　bestow　a　thought　upon　me？'

'Ah！　Matilda；　I　fear　that　I　shall　think　on　you　but　too　often　for　my　repose！'

'Then　I　have　nothing　more　to　wish　for；　save　that　we　may　meet　in　heaven。　　Farewell；　my　Friend！　my　Ambrosio！　And　yet　methinks；　I　would　fain　bear　with　me　some　token　of　your　regard！'

'What　shall　I　give　you？'

'Something。Any　thing。One　of　those　flowers　will　be　sufficient。'　（Here　She　pointed　to　a　bush　of　Roses；　planted　at　the　door　of　the　Grotto。）　　'I　will　hide　it　in　my　bosom；　and　when　I　am　dead；　the　Nuns　shall　find　it　withered　upon　my　heart。'

The　Friar　was　unable　to　reply：　　With　slow　steps；　and　a　soul　heavy　with　affliction；　He　quitted　the　Hermitage。　　He　approached　the　Bush；　and　stooped　to　pluck　one　of　the　Roses。　　Suddenly　He　uttered　a　piercing　cry；　started　back　hastily；　and　let　the　flower；　which　He　already　held；　fall　from　his　hand。　　Matilda　heard　the　shriek；　and　flew　anxiously　towards　him。

'What　is　the　matter？'　She　cried；　'Answer　me；　for　God's　sake！　　What　has　happened？'

'I　have　received　my　death！'　He　replied　in　a　faint　voice；　'Concealed　among　the　Roses　。　。　。　　A　Serpent。　。　。　。'

Here　the　pain　of　his　wound　became　so　exquisite；　that　Nature　was　unable　to　bear　it：　　His　senses　abandoned　him；　and　He　sank　inanimate　into　Matilda's　arms。

Her　distress　was　beyond　the　power　of　description。　　She　rent　her　hair；　beat　her　bosom；　and　not　daring　to　quit　Ambrosio；　endeavoured　by　loud　cries　to　summon　the　Monks　to　her　assistance。　　She　at　length　succeeded。　　Alarmed　by　her　shrieks；　Several　of　the　Brothers　hastened　to　the　spot；　and　the　Superior　was　conveyed　back　to　the　Abbey。　　He　was　immediately　put　to　bed；　and　the　Monk　who　officiated　as　Surgeon　to　the　Fraternity　prepared　to　examine　the　wound。　　By　this　time　Ambrosio's　hand　had　swelled　to　an　extraordinary　size；　The　remedies　which　had　been　administered　to　him；　'tis　true；　restored　him　to　life；　but　not　to　his　senses；　He　raved　in　all　the　horrors　of　delirium；　foamed　at　the　mouth；　and　four　of　the　strongest　Monks　were　scarcely　able　to　hold　him　in　his　bed。

Father　Pablos；　such　was　the　Surgeon's　name；　hastened　to　examine　the　wounded　hand。　　The　Monks　surrounded　the　Bed；　anxiously　waiting　for　the　decision：　　Among　these　the　feigned　Rosario　appeared　not　the　most　insensible　to　the　Friar's　calamity。　　He　gazed　upon　the　Sufferer　with　inexpressible　anguish；　and　the　groans　which　every　moment　escaped　from　his　bosom　sufficiently　betrayed　the　violence　of　his　affliction。

Father　Pablos　probed　the　wound。　　As　He　drew　out　his　Lancet；　its　point　was　tinged　with　a　greenish　hue。　　He　shook　his　head　mournfully；　and　quitted　the　bedside。

'　'Tis　as　I　feared！'　said　He；　'There　is　no　hope。'

'No　hope？'　exclaimed　the　Monks　with　one　voice；　'Say　you；　no　hope？'

'From　the　sudden　effects；　I　suspected　that　the　Abbot　was　stung　by　a　Cientipedoro：　The　venom　which　you　see　upon　my　Lancet　confirms　my　idea：　　He　cannot　live　three　days。'

'And　can　no　possible　remedy　be　found？'　enquired　Rosario。

'Without　extracting　the　poison；　He　cannot　recover；　and　how　to　extract　it　is　to　me　still　a　secret。　　All　that　I　can　do　is　to　apply　such　herbs　to　the　wound　as　will　relieve　the　anguish：　　The　Patient　will　be　restored　to　his　senses；　But　the　venom　will　corrupt　the　whole　mass　of　his　blood；　and　in　three　days　He　will　exist　no　longer。'

Excessive　was　the　universal　grief　at　hearing　this　decision。　　Pablos；　as　He　had　promised；　dressed　the　wound；　and　then　retired；　followed　by　his　Companions：　　Rosario　alone　remained　in　the　Cell；　the　Abbot　at　his　urgent　entreaty　having　been　committed　to　his　care。　　Ambrosio's　strength　worn　out　by　the　violence　of　his　exertions；　He　had　by　this　time　fallen　into　a　profound　sleep。　　So　totally　was　He　overcome　by　weariness；　that　He　scarcely　gave　any　signs　of　life；　He　was　still　in　this　situation；　when　the　Monks　returned　to　enquire　whether　any　change　had　taken　place。　　Pablos　loosened　the　bandage　which　concealed　the　wound；　more　from　a　principle　of　curiosity　than　from　indulging　the　hope　of　discovering　any　favourable　symptoms。　　What　was　his　astonishment　at　finding；　that　the　inflammation　had　totally　subsided！　　He　probed　the　hand；　His　Lancet　came　out　pure　and　unsullied；　No　traces　of　the　venom　were　perceptible；　and　had　not　the　orifice　still　been　visible；　Pablos　might　have　doubted　that　there　had　ever　been　a　wound。

He　communicated　this　intelligence　to　his　Brethren；　their　delight　was　only　equalled　by　their　surprize。　　From　the　latter　sentiment；　however；　they　were　soon　released　by　explaining　the　circumstance　according　to　their　own　ideas：　　They　were　perfectly　convinced　that　their　Superior　was　a　Saint；　and　thought；　that　nothing　could　be　more　natural　than　for　St。　Francis　to　have　operated　a　miracle　in　his　favour。　　This　opinion　was　adopted　unanimously：　They　declared　it　so　loudly；　and　vociferated；'A　miracle！　a　miracle！'with　such　fervour；　that　they　soon　interrupted　Ambrosio's　slumbers。

The　Monks　immediately　crowded　round　his　Bed；　and　expressed　their　satisfaction　at　his　wonderful　recovery。　　He　was　perfectly　in　his　senses；　and　free　from　every　complaint　except　feeling　weak　and　languid。　　Pablos　gave　him　a　strengthening　medicine；　and　advised　his　keeping　his　bed　for　the　two　succeeding　days：　　He　then　retired；　having　desired　his　Patient　not　to　exhaust　himself　by　conversation；　but　rather　to　endeavour　at　taking　some　repose。　　The　other　Monks　followed　his　example；　and　the　Abbot　and　Rosario　were　left　without　Observers。

For　some　minutes　Ambrosio　regarded　his　Attendant　with　a　look　of　mingled　pleasure　and　apprehension。　　She　was　seated　upon　the　side　of　the　Bed；　her　head　bending　down；　and　as　usual　enveloped　in　the　Cowl　of　her　Habit。

'And　you　are　still　here；　Matilda？'　said　the　Friar　at　length。　　'Are　you　not　satisfied　with　h