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ion of the service； and at length the Prioress appeared at the Parlour Grate。 Agnes was demanded。 The old Lady replied； with a melancholy air； that the dear Child's situation grew hourly more dangerous； That the Physicians despaired of her life； But that they had declared the only chance for her recovery to consist in keeping her quiet； and not to permit those to approach her whose presence was likely to agitate her。 Not a word of all this was believed by Lorenzo； any more than He credited the expressions of grief and affection for Agnes； with which this account was interlarded。 To end the business； He put the Pope's Bull into the hands of the Domina； and insisted that； ill or in health； his Sister should be delivered to him without delay。
The Prioress received the paper with an air of humility： But no sooner had her eye glanced over the contents； than her resentment baffled all the efforts of Hypocrisy。 A deep crimson spread itself over her face； and She darted upon Lorenzo looks of rage and menace。
'This order is positive；' said She in a voice of anger； which She in vain strove to disguise； 'Willingly would I obey it； But unfortunately it is out of my power。'
Lorenzo interrupted her by an exclamation of surprize。
'I repeat it； Segnor； to obey this order is totally out of my power。 From tenderness to a Brother's feelings； I would have communicated the sad event to you by degrees； and have prepared you to hear it with fortitude。 My measures are broken through： This order commands me to deliver up to you the Sister Agnes without delay； I am therefore obliged to inform you without circumlocution； that on Friday last； She expired。'
Lorenzo started back with horror； and turned pale。 A moment's recollection convinced him that this assertion must be false； and it restored him to himself。
'You deceive me！' said He passionately； 'But five minutes past since you assured me that though ill She was still alive。 Produce her this instant！ See her I must and will； and every attempt to keep her from me will be unavailing。'
'You forget yourself； Segnor； You owe respect to my age as well as my profession。 Your Sister is no more。 If I at first concealed her death； it was from dreading lest an event so unexpected should produce on you too violent an effect。 In truth； I am but ill repaid for my attention。 And what interest； I pray you； should I have in detaining her？ To know her wish of quitting our society is a sufficient reason for me to wish her absence； and think her a disgrace to the Sisterhood of St。 Clare： But She has forfeited my affection in a manner yet more culpable。 Her crimes were great； and when you know the cause of her death； you will doubtless rejoice； Don Lorenzo； that such a Wretch is no longer in existence。 She was taken ill on Thursday last on returning from confession in the Capuchin Chapel。 Her malady seemed attended with strange circumstances； But She persisted in concealing its cause： Thanks to the Virgin； we were too ignorant to suspect it！ Judge then what must have been our consternation； our horror； when She was delivered the next day of a stillborn Child； whom She immediately followed to the Grave。 How； Segnor？ Is it possible that your countenance expresses no surprize； no indignation？ Is it possible that your Sister's infamy was known to you； and that still She possessed your affection？ In that case； you have no need of my compassion。 I can say nothing more； except repeat my inability of obeying the orders of his Holiness。 Agnes is no more； and to convince you that what I say is true； I swear by our blessed Saviour； that three days have past since She was buried。'
Here She kissed a small crucifix which hung at her girdle。 She then rose from her chair； and quitted the Parlour。 As She withdrew； She cast upon Lorenzo a scornful smile。
'Farewell； Segnor；' said She； 'I know no remedy for this accident： I fear that even a second Bull from the Pope will not procure your Sister's resurrection。'
Lorenzo also retired； penetrated with affliction： But Don Raymond's at the news of this event amounted to Madness。 He would not be convinced that Agnes was really dead； and continued to insist that the Walls of St。 Clare still confined her。 No arguments could make him abandon his hopes of regaining her： Every day some fresh scheme was invented for procuring intelligence of her； and all of them were attended with the same success。
On his part； Medina gave up the idea of ever seeing his Sister more： Yet He believed that She had been taken off by unfair means。 Under this persuasion； He encouraged Don Raymond's researches； determined； should He discover the least warrant for his suspicions； to take a severe vengeance upon the unfeeling Prioress。 The loss of his Sister affected him sincerely； Nor was it the least cause of his distress that propriety obliged him for some time to defer mentioning Antonia to the Duke。 In the meanwhile his emissaries constantly surrounded Elvira's Door。 He had intelligence of all the movements of his Mistress： As She never failed every Thursday to attend the Sermon in the Capuchin Cathedral； He was secure of seeing her once a week； though in compliance with his promise； He carefully shunned her observation。 Thus two long Months passed away。 Still no information was procured of Agnes： All but the Marquis credited her death； and now Lorenzo determined to disclose his sentiments to his Uncle。 He had already dropt some hints of his intention to marry； They had been as favourably received as He could expect； and He harboured no doubt of the success of his application。
CHAPTER III
While in each other's arms entranced They lay； They blessed the night； and curst the coming day。 Lee。
The burst of transport was past： Ambrosio's lust was satisfied； Pleasure fled； and Shame usurped her seat in his bosom。 Confused and terrified at his weakness； He drew himself from Matilda's arms。 His perjury presented itself before him： He reflected on the scene which had just been acted； and trembled at the consequences of a discovery。 He looked forward with horror； His heart was despondent； and became the abode of satiety and disgust。 He avoided the eyes of his Partner in frailty； A melancholy silence prevailed； during which Both seemed busied with disagreable reflections。
Matilda was the first to break it。 She took his hand gently； and pressed it to her burning lips。
'Ambrosio！' She murmured in a soft and trembling voice。
The Abbot started at the sound。 He turned his eyes upon Matilda's： They were filled with tears； Her cheeks were covered with blushes； and her supplicating looks seemed to solicit his compassion。
'Dangerous Woman！' said He； 'Into what an abyss of misery have you plunged me！ Should your sex be discovered； my honour； nay my life； must pay for the pleasure of a few moments。 Fool that I was； to trust myself to your seductions！ What can now be done？ How can my offence be expiated？ What atonement can purchase the pardon of my crime？ Wretched Matilda； you have destroyed my quiet for ever！'
'To me these reproaches； Ambrosio？ To me； who have sacrificed for you the world's pleasures； the luxury of wealth； the delicacy of sex； my Friends； my fortune； and my fame？ What have you lost； which I preserved？ Have _I_ not shared in YOUR guilt？ Have YOU not shared in MY pleasure？ Guilt； did I say？ In what consists ours； unless in the opinion of an ill…judging World？ Let that World be ignorant of them； and our joys become divine and blameless！ Unnatural were your vows of Celibacy； Man was not created for such a state； And were Love a crime； God never would have made it so sweet； so irresistible！ Then banish those clouds from your brow； my Ambrosio！ Indulge in those pleasures freely； without which life is a worthless gift： Cease to reproach me with having taught you what is bliss； and feel equal transports with the Woman who adores you！'
As She spoke； her eyes were filled with a delicious languor。 Her bosom panted： She twined her arms voluptuously round him； drew him towards her； and glewed her lips to his。 Ambrosio again raged with desire： The die was thrown： His vows were already broken； He had already committed the crime； and why should He refrain from enjoying its reward？ He clasped her to his breast with redoubled ardour。 No longer repressed by the sense of shame； He gave a loose to his intemperate appetites。 While the fair Wanton put every invention of lust in practice； every refinement in the art of pleasure which might heighten the bliss of her possession； and render her Lover's transports still more exquisite； Ambrosio rioted in delights till then unknown to him： Swift fled the night； and the Morning blushed to behold him still clasped in the embraces of Matilda。
Intoxicated with pleasure； the Monk rose from the Syren's luxurious Couch。 He no longer reflected with shame upon his incontinence； or dreaded the vengeance of offended heaven。 His only fear was lest Death should rob him of enjoyments； for which his long Fast had only given a keener edge to his appetite。 Matilda was still under the influence of poison； and the voluptuous Monk