The Monk - A Romance

by The Monk [lit]

  succeeded in recovering me. Uneasy beyond expression respecting

  the fate of my Companion, I besought the Peasants to disperse

  themselves in search of her: I described her dress, and promised

  immense rewards to whoever brought me any intelligence. As for

  myself, it was impossible for me to join in the pursuit: I had

  broken two of my ribs in the fall: My arm being dislocated hung

  useless by my side; and my left leg was shattered so terribly,

  that I never expected to recover its use.

  The Peasants complied with my request: All left me except Four,

  who made a litter of boughs and prepared to convey me to the

  neighbouring Town. I enquired its name. It proved to be

  Ratisbon, and I could scarcely persuade myself that I had

  travelled to such a distance in a single night. I told the

  Countrymen that at one o'clock that morning I had past through

  the Village of Rosenwald. They shook their heads wistfully, and

  made signs to each other that I must certainly be delirious. I

  was conveyed to a decent Inn and immediately put to bed. A

  Physician was sent for, who set my arm with success. He then

  examined my other hurts, and told me that I need be under no

  apprehension of the consequences of any of them; But ordered me

  to keep myself quiet, and be prepared for a tedious and painful

  cure. I answered him that if He hoped to keep me quiet, He must

  first endeavour to procure me some news of a Lady who had

  quitted Rosenwald in my company the night before, and had been

  with me at the moment when the Coach broke down. He smiled, and

  only replied by advising me to make myself easy, for that all

  proper care should be taken of me. As He quitted me, the Hostess

  met him at the door of the room.

  'The Gentleman is not quite in his right senses;' I heard him say

  to her in a low voice; ' 'Tis the natural consequence of his

  fall, but that will soon be over.'

  One after another the Peasants returned to the Inn, and informed

  me that no traces had been discovered of my unfortunate Mistress.

  Uneasiness now became despair. I entreated them to renew their

  search in the most urgent terms, doubling the promises which I

  had already made them. My wild and frantic manner confirmed the

  bye-standers in the idea of my being delirious. No signs of the

  Lady having appeared, they believed her to be a creature

  fabricated by my over-heated brain, and paid no attention to my

  entreaties. However, the Hostess assured me that a fresh enquiry

  should be made, but I found afterwards that her promise was only

  given to quiet me. No further steps were taken in the business.

  Though my Baggage was left at Munich under the care of my French

  Servant, having prepared myself for a long journey, my purse was

  amply furnished: Besides my equipage proved me to be of

  distinction, and in consequence all possible attention was paid

  me at the Inn. The day passed away: Still no news arrived of

  Agnes. The anxiety of fear now gave place to despondency. I

  ceased to rave about her and was plunged in the depth of

  melancholy reflections. Perceiving me to be silent and tranquil,

  my Attendants believed my delirium to have abated, and that my

  malady had taken a favourable turn. According to the Physician's

  order I swallowed a composing medicine; and as soon as the night

  shut in, my attendants withdrew and left me to repose.

  That repose I wooed in vain. The agitation of my bosom chased

  away sleep. Restless in my mind, in spite of the fatigue of my

  body, I continued to toss about from side to side, till the Clock

  in a neighbouring Steeple struck 'One.' As I listened to the

  mournful hollow sound, and heard it die away in the wind, I felt

  a sudden chillness spread itself over my body. I shuddered

  without knowing wherefore; Cold dews poured down my forehead, and

  my hair stood bristling with alarm. Suddenly I heard slow and

  heavy steps ascending the staircase. By an involuntary movement

  I started up in my bed, and drew back the curtain. A single

  rush-light which glimmered upon the hearth shed a faint gleam

  through the apartment, which was hung with tapestry. The door

  was thrown open with violence. A figure entered, and drew near

  my Bed with solemn measured steps. With trembling apprehension I

  examined this midnight Visitor. God Almighty! It was the

  Bleeding Nun! It was my lost Companion! Her face was still

  veiled, but She no longer held her Lamp and dagger. She lifted

  up her veil slowly. What a sight presented itself to my startled

  eyes! I beheld before me an animated Corse. Her countenance was

  long and haggard; Her cheeks and lips were bloodless; The

  paleness of death was spread over her features, and her eyeballs

  fixed stedfastly upon me were lustreless and hollow.

  I gazed upon the Spectre with horror too great to be described.

  My blood was frozen in my veins. I would have called for aid,

  but the sound expired ere it could pass my lips. My nerves were

  bound up in impotence, and I remained in the same attitude

  inanimate as a Statue.

  The visionary Nun looked upon me for some minutes in silence:

  There was something petrifying in her regard. At length in a low

  sepulchral voice She pronounced the following words.

  ''Raymond! Raymond! Thou art mine!

  Raymond! Raymond! I am thine!

  In thy veins while blood shall roll,

  I am thine!

  Thou art mine!

  Mine thy body! Mine thy soul!----''

  Breathless with fear, I listened while She repeated my own

  expressions. The Apparition seated herself opposite to me at the

  foot of the Bed, and was silent. Her eyes were fixed earnestly

  upon mine: They seemed endowed with the property of the

  Rattlesnake's, for I strove in vain to look off her. My eyes

  were fascinated, and I had not the power of withdrawing them from

  the Spectre's.

  In this attitude She remained for a whole long hour without

  speaking or moving; nor was I able to do either. At length the

  Clock struck two. The Apparition rose from her seat, and

  approached the side of the bed. She grasped with her icy fingers

  my hand which hung lifeless upon the Coverture, and pressing her

  cold lips to mine, again repeated,

  ''Raymond! Raymond! Thou art mine!

  Raymond! Raymond!

  I am thine! &c.----''

  She then dropped my hand, quitted the chamber with slow steps,

  and the Door closed after her. Till that moment the faculties of

  my body had been all suspended; Those of my mind had alone been

  waking. The charm now ceased to operate: The blood which had

  been frozen in my veins rushed back to my heart with violence: I

  uttered a deep groan, and sank lifeless upon my pillow.

  The adjoining room was only separated from mine by a thin

  partition: It was occupied by the Host and his Wife: The Former

  was rouzed by my groan, and immediately hastened to my chamber:

  The Hostess soon followed him. With some difficulty they

  succeeded in restoring me to my senses, and immediately sent for

&
nbsp; the Physician, who arrived in all diligence. He declared my

  fever to be very much increased, and that if I continued to

  suffer such violent agitation, He would not take upon him to

  ensure my life. Some medicines which He gave me in some degree

  tranquillized my spirits. I fell into a sort of slumber towards

  daybreak; But fearful dreams prevented me from deriving any

  benefit from my repose. Agnes and the Bleeding Nun presented

  themselves by turns to my fancy, and combined to harass and

  torment me. I awoke fatigued and unrefreshed. My fever seemed

  rather augmented than diminished; The agitation of my mind

  impeded my fractured bones from knitting: I had frequent

  fainting fits, and during the whole day the Physician judged it

  expedient not to quit me for two hours together.

  The singularity of my adventure made me determine to conceal it

  from every one, since I could not expect that a circumstance so

  strange should gain credit. I was very uneasy about Agnes. I

  knew not what She would think at not finding me at the

  rendezvous, and dreaded her entertaining suspicions of my

  fidelity. However, I depended upon Theodore's discretion, and

  trusted that my letter to the Baroness would convince her of the

  rectitude of my intentions. These considerations somewhat

  lightened my inquietude upon her account: But the impression

  left upon my mind by my nocturnal Visitor grew stronger with

  every succeeding moment. The night drew near; I dreaded its

  arrival. Yet I strove to persuade myself that the Ghost would

  appear no more, and at all events I desired that a Servant might

  sit up in my chamber.

  The fatigue of my body from not having slept on the former night,

  co-operating with the strong opiates administered to me in

  profusion, at length procured me that repose of which I was so

  much in need. I sank into a profound and tranquil slumber, and

  had already slept for some hours, when the neighbouring Clock

  rouzed me by striking 'One'. Its sound brought with it to my

  memory all the horrors of the night before. The same cold

  shivering seized me. I started up in my bed, and perceived the

  Servant fast asleep in an armed-Chair near me. I called him by

  his name: He made no answer. I shook him forcibly by the arm,

  and strove in vain to wake him. He was perfectly insensible to

  my efforts. I now heard the heavy steps ascending the

  staircase; The Door was thrown open, and again the Bleeding Nun

  stood before me. Once more my limbs were chained in second

  infancy. Once more I heard those fatal words repeated,

  ''Raymond! Raymond! Thou art mine!

  Raymond! Raymond! I am thine! &c.----''

  The scene which had shocked me so sensibly on the former night,

  was again presented. The Spectre again pressed her lips to mine,

  again touched me with her rotting fingers, and as on her first

  appearance, quitted the chamber as soon as the Clock told 'Two.'

  Even night was this repeated. Far from growing accustomed to the

  Ghost, every succeeding visit inspired me with greater horror.

  Her idea pursued me continually, and I became the prey of

  habitual melancholy. The constant agitation of my mind naturally

  retarded the re-establishment of my health. Several months

  elapsed before I was able to quit my bed; and when at length I

  was moved to a Sopha, I was so faint, spiritless, and emaciated,

  that I could not cross the room without assistance. The looks of

  my Attendants sufficiently denoted the little hope, which they

  entertained of my recovery. The profound sadness, which

  oppressed me without remission made the Physician consider me to

  be an Hypochondriac. The cause of my distress I carefully

  concealed in my own bosom, for I knew that no one could give me

  relief: The Ghost was not even visible to any eye but mine. I

  had frequently caused Attendants to sit up in my room: But the

  moment that the Clock struck 'One,' irresistible slumber seized

  them, nor left them till the departure of the Ghost.

  You may be surprized that during this time I made no enquiries

  after your Sister. Theodore, who with difficulty had discovered

  my abode, had quieted my apprehensions for her safety: At the

  same time He convinced me that all attempts to release her from

  captivity must be fruitless till I should be in a condition to

  return to Spain. The particulars of her adventure which I shall

  now relate to you, were partly communicated to me by Theodore,

  and partly by Agnes herself.

  On the fatal night when her elopement was to have taken place,

  accident had not permitted her to quit her chamber at the

  appointed time. At length She ventured into the haunted room,

  descended the staircase leading into the Hall, found the Gates

  open as She expected, and left the Castle unobserved. What was

  her surprize at not finding me ready to receive her! She

  examined the Cavern, ranged through every Alley of the

  neighbouring wood, and passed two full hours in this fruitless

  enquiry. She could discover no traces either of me or of the

  Carriage. Alarmed and disappointed, her only resource was to

  return to the Castle before the Baroness missed her: But here

  She found herself in a fresh embarrassment. The Bell had already

  tolled 'Two:' The Ghostly hour was past, and the careful Porter

  had locked the folding gates. After much irresolution She

  ventured to knock softly. Luckily for her, Conrad was still

  awake: He heard the noise and rose, murmuring at being called

  up a second time. No sooner had He opened one of the Doors, and

  beheld the supposed Apparition waiting there for admittance, than

  He uttered a loud cry, and sank upon his knees. Agnes profited

  by his terror. She glided by him, flew to her own apartment, and

  having thrown off her Spectre's trappings, retired to bed

  endeavouring in vain to account for my disappearing.

  In the mean while Theodore having seen my Carriage drive off with

  the false Agnes, returned joyfully to the Village. The next

  morning He released Cunegonda from her confinement, and

  accompanied her to the Castle. There He found the Baron, his

  Lady, and Don Gaston, disputing together upon the Porter's

  relation. All of them agreed in believing the existence of

  Spectres: But the Latter contended, that for a Ghost to knock

  for admittance was a proceeding till then unwitnessed, and

  totally incompatible with the immaterial nature of a Spirit.

  They were still discussing this subject when the Page appeared

  with Cunegonda and cleared up the mystery. On hearing his

  deposition, it was agreed unanimously that the Agnes whom

  Theodore had seen step into my Carriage must have been the

  Bleeding Nun, and that the Ghost who had terrified Conrad was no

  other than Don Gaston's Daughter.

  The first surprize which this discovery occasioned being over,

  the Baroness resolved to make it of use in persuading her Niece

  to take the veil. Fearing lest so advantageous an establishment

  for his Daughter should induce Don Gaston to renounce his
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  resolution, She suppressed my letter, and continued to represent

  me as a needy unknown Adventurer. A childish vanity had led me

  to conceal my real name even from my Mistress; I wished to be

  loved for myself, not for being the Son and Heir of the Marquis

  de las Cisternas. The consequence was that my rank was known to

  no one in the Castle except the Baroness, and She took good care

  to confine the knowledge to her own breast. Don Gaston having

  approved his Sister's design, Agnes was summoned to appear before

  them. She was taxed with having meditated an elopement, obliged

  to make a full confession, and was amazed at the gentleness with

  which it was received: But what was her affliction, when

  informed that the failure of her project must be attributed to

  me! Cunegonda, tutored by the Baroness, told her that when I

  released her, I had desired her to inform her Lady that our

  connexion was at an end, that the whole affair was occasioned by

  a false report, and that it by no means suited my circumstances

  to marry a Woman without fortune or expectations.

  To this account my sudden disappearing gave but too great an air

  of probability. Theodore, who could have contradicted the story,

  by Donna Rodolpha's order was kept out of her sight: What proved

  a still greater confirmation of my being an Impostor, was the

  arrival of a letter from yourself declaring that you had no sort

  of acquaintance with Alphonso d'Alvarada. These seeming proofs

  of my perfidy, aided by the artful insinuations of her Aunt, by

  Cunegonda's flattery, and her Father's threats and anger,

  entirely conquered your Sister's repugnance to a Convent.

  Incensed at my behaviour, and disgusted with the world in

  general, She consented to receive the veil. She past another

  Month at the Castle of Lindenberg, during which my non-appearance

  confirmed her in her resolution, and then accompanied Don Gaston

  into Spain. Theodore was now set at liberty. He hastened to

  Munich, where I had promised to let him hear from me; But finding

  from Lucas that I had never arrived there, He pursued his search

  with indefatigable perseverance, and at length succeeded in

  rejoining me at Ratisbon.

  So much was I altered, that scarcely could He recollect my

  features: The distress visible upon his sufficiently testified

  how lively was the interest which He felt for me. The society of