and liberty, and abandon you to death and eternal torments.'
'Yet stay one moment, Matilda! You command the infernal Daemons:
You can force open these prison doors; You can release me from
these chains which weigh me down. Save me, I conjure you, and
bear me from these fearful abodes!'
'You ask the only boon beyond my power to bestow. I am forbidden
to assist a Churchman and a Partizan of God: Renounce those
titles, and command me.'
'I will not sell my soul to perdition.'
'Persist in your obstinacy, till you find yourself at the Stake:
Then will you repent your error, and sigh for escape when the
moment is gone by. I quit you. Yet ere the hour of death
arrives should wisdom enlighten you, listen to the means of
repairing your present fault. I leave with you this Book. Read
the four first lines of the seventh page backwards: The Spirit
whom you have already once beheld will immediately appear to
you. If you are wise, we shall meet again: If not, farewell for
ever!'
She let the Book fall upon the ground. A cloud of blue fire
wrapped itself round her: She waved her hand to Ambrosio, and
disappeared. The momentary glare which the flames poured through
the dungeon, on dissipating suddenly, seemed to have increased
its natural gloom. The solitary Lamp scarcely gave light
sufficient to guide the Monk to a Chair. He threw himself into
his seat, folded his arms, and leaning his head upon the table,
sank into reflections perplexing and unconnected.
He was still in this attitude when the opening of the prison door
rouzed him from his stupor. He was summoned to appear before the
Grand Inquisitor. He rose, and followed his Gaoler with painful
steps. He was led into the same Hall, placed before the same
Examiners, and was again interrogated whether Hewould confess.
He replied as before, that having no crimes, He could acknowledge
none: But when the Executioners prepared to put him to the
question, when He saw the engines of torture, and remembered the
pangs which they had already inflicted, his resolution failed him
entirely. Forgetting the consequences, and only anxious to
escape the terrors of the present moment, He made an ample
confession. He disclosed every circumstance of his guilt, and
owned not merely the crimes with which He was charged, but those
of which He had never been suspected. Being interrogated as to
Matilda's flight which had created much confusion, He confessed
that She had sold herself to Satan, and that She was indebted to
Sorcery for her escape. He still assured his Judges that for
his own part He had never entered into any compact with the
infernal Spirits; But the threat of being tortured made him
declare himself to be a Sorcerer, and Heretic, and whatever other
title the Inquisitors chose to fix upon him. In consequence of
this avowal, his sentence was immediately pronounced. He was
ordered to prepare himself to perish in the Auto da Fe, which was
to be solemnized at twelve o'clock that night. This hour was
chosen from the idea that the horror of the flames being
heightened by the gloom of midnight, the execution would have a
greater effect upon the mind of the People.
Ambrosio rather dead than alive was left alone in his dungeon.
The moment in which this terrible decree was pronounced had
nearly proved that of his dissolution. He looked forward to the
morrow with despair, and his terrors increased with the approach
of midnight. Sometimes He was buried in gloomy silence: At
others He raved with delirious passion, wrung his hands, and
cursed the hour when He first beheld the light. In one of these
moments his eye rested upon Matilda's mysterious gift. His
transports of rage were instantly suspended. He looked earnestly
at the Book; He took it up, but immediately threw it from him
with horror. He walked rapidly up and down his dungeon: Then
stopped, and again fixed his eyes on the spot where the Book had
fallen. He reflected that here at least was a resource from the
fate which He dreaded. He stooped, and took it up a second time.
He remained for some time trembling and irresolute: He longed to
try the charm, yet feared its consequences. The recollection of
his sentence at length fixed his indecision. He opened the
Volume; but his agitation was so great that He at first sought
in vain for the page mentioned by Matilda. Ashamed of himself,
He called all his courage to his aid. He turned to the seventh
leaf. He began to read it aloud; But his eyes frequently
wandered from the Book, while He anxiously cast them round in
search of the Spirit, whom He wished, yet dreaded to behold.
Still He persisted in his design; and with a voice unassured and
frequent interruptions, He contrived to finish the four first
lines of the page.
They were in a language, whose import was totally unknown to him.
Scarce had He pronounced the last word when the effects of the
charm were evident. A loud burst of Thunder was heard; The
prison shook to its very foundations; A blaze of lightning
flashed through the Cell; and in the next moment, borne upon
sulphurous whirl-winds, Lucifer stood before him a second time.
But He came not as when at Matilda's summons He borrowed the
Seraph's form to deceive Ambrosio. He appeared in all that
ugliness which since his fall from heaven had been his portion:
His blasted limbs still bore marks of the Almighty's thunder: A
swarthy darkness spread itself over his gigantic form: His hands
and feet were armed with long Talons: Fury glared in his eyes,
which might have struck the bravest heart with terror: Over his
huge shoulders waved two enormous sable wings; and his hair was
supplied by living snakes, which twined themselves round his
brows with frightful hissings. In one hand He held a roll of
parchment, and in the other an iron pen. Still the lightning
flashed around him, and the Thunder with repeated bursts, seemed
to announce the dissolution of Nature.
Terrified at an Apparition so different from what He had
expected, Ambrosio remained gazing upon the Fiend, deprived of
the power of utterance. The Thunder had ceased to roll:
Universal silence reigned through the dungeon.
'For what am I summoned hither?' said the Daemon, in a voice
which sulphurous fogs had damped to hoarseness--
At the sound Nature seemed to tremble: A violent earthquake
rocked the ground, accompanied by a fresh burst of Thunder,
louder and more appalling than the first.
Ambrosio was long unable to answer the Daemon's demand.
'I am condemned to die;' He said with a faint voice, his blood
running cold, while He gazed upon his dreadful Visitor. 'Save
me! Bear me from hence!'
'Shall the reward of my services be paid me? Dare you embrace my
cause? Will you be mine, body and soul? Are you prepared to
renounce him who made you, and him who died for you? Answer but
''Yes'' and Lucifer is your Slave.'
eternal ruin? Spirit, you ask too much. Yet convey me from this
dungeon: Be my Servant for one hour, and I will be yours for a
thousand years. Will not this offer suffice?'
'It will not. I must have your soul; must have it mine, and mine
for ever.'
'Insatiate Daemon, I will not doom myself to endless torments. I
will not give up my hopes of being one day pardoned.'
'You will not? On what Chimaera rest then your hopes?
Short-sighted Mortal! Miserable Wretch! Are you not guilty?
Are you not infamous in the eyes of Men and Angels. Can such
enormous sins be forgiven? Hope you to escape my power? Your
fate is already pronounced. The Eternal has abandoned you; Mine
you are marked in the book of destiny, and mine you must and
shall be!'
'Fiend, 'tis false! Infinite is the Almighty's mercy, and the
Penitent shall meet his forgiveness. My crimes are monstrous,
but I will not despair of pardon: Haply, when they have received
due chastisement . . . .'
'Chastisement? Was Purgatory meant for guilt like yours? Hope
you that your offences shall be bought off by prayers of
superstitious dotards and droning Monks? Ambrosio, be wise!
Mine
you must be: You are doomed to flames, but may shun them for the
present. Sign this parchment: I will bear you from hence, and
you may pass your remaining years in bliss and liberty. Enjoy
your existence: Indulge in every pleasure to which appetite may
lead you: But from the moment that it quits your body, remember
that your soul belongs to me, and that I will not be defrauded of
my right.'
The Monk was silent; But his looks declared that the Tempter's
words were not thrown away. He reflected on the conditions
proposed with horror: On the other hand, He believed himself
doomed to perdition and that, by refusing the Daemon's succour,
He only hastened tortures which He never could escape. The Fiend
saw that his resolution was shaken: He renewed his instances,
and endeavoured to fix the Abbot's indecision. He described the
agonies of death in the most terrific colours; and He worked so
powerfully upon Ambrosio's despair and fears that He prevailed
upon him to receive the Parchment. He then struck the iron Pen
which He held into a vein of the Monk's left hand. It pierced
deep, and was instantly filled with blood; Yet Ambrosio felt no
pain from the wound. The Pen was put into his hand: It
trembled. The Wretch placed the Parchment on the Table before
him, and prepared to sign it. Suddenly He held his hand: He
started away hastily, and threw the Pen upon the table.
'What am I doing?' He cried--Then turning to the Fiend with a
desperate air, 'Leave me! Begone! I will not sign the
Parchment.'
'Fool!' exclaimed the disappointed Daemon, darting looks so
furious as penetrated the Friar's soul with horror; 'Thus am I
trifled with? Go then! Rave in agony, expire in tortures, and
then learn the extent of the Eternal's mercy! But beware how you
make me again your mock! Call me no more till resolved to accept
my offers! Summon me a second time to dismiss me thus idly, and
these Talons shall rend you into a thousand pieces! Speak yet
again; Will you sign the Parchment?'
'I will not! Leave me! Away!'
Instantly the Thunder was heard to roll horribly: Once more the
earth trembled with violence: The Dungeon resounded with loud
shrieks, and the Daemon fled with blasphemy and curses.
At first, the Monk rejoiced at having resisted the Seducer's
arts, and obtained a triumph over Mankind's Enemy: But as the
hour of punishment drew near, his former terrors revived in his
heart. Their momentary repose seemed to have given them fresh
vigour. The nearer that the time approached, the more did He
dread appearing before the Throne of God. He shuddered to think
how soon He must be plunged into eternity; How soon meet the eyes
of his Creator, whom He had so grievously offended. The Bell
announced midnight: It was the signal for being led to the
Stake! As He listened to the first stroke, the blood ceased to
circulate in the Abbot's veins: He heard death and torture
murmured in each succeeding sound. He expected to see the
Archers entering his prison; and as the Bell forbore to toll, he
seized the magic volume in a fit of despair. He opened it,
turned hastily to the seventh page, and as if fearing to allow
himself a moment's thought ran over the fatal lines with
rapidity. Accompanied by his former terrors, Lucifer again stood
before the Trembler.
'You have summoned me,' said the Fiend; 'Are you determined to be
wise? Will you accept my conditions? You know them already.
Renounce your claim to salvation, make over to me your soul, and
I bear you from this dungeon instantly. Yet is it time.
Resolve, or it will be too late. Will you sign the Parchment?'
'I must!--Fate urges me! I accept your conditions.'
'Sign the Parchment!' replied the Daemon in an exulting tone.
The Contract and the bloody Pen still lay upon the Table.
Ambrosio drew near it. He prepared to sign his name. A moment's
reflection made him hesitate.
'Hark!' cried the Tempter; 'They come! Be quick! Sign the
Parchment, and I bear you from hence this moment.'
In effect, the Archers were heard approaching, appointed to lead
Ambrosio to the Stake. The sound encouraged the Monk in his
resolution.
'What is the import of this writing?' said He.
'It makes your soul over to me for ever, and without reserve.'
'What am I to receive in exchange?'
'My protection, and release from this dungeon. Sign it, and this
instant I bear you away.'
Ambrosio took up the Pen; He set it to the Parchment. Again his
courage failed him: He felt a pang of terror at his heart, and
once more threw the Pen upon the Table.
'Weak and Puerile!' cried the exasperated Fiend: 'Away with this
folly! Sign the writing this instant, or I sacrifice you to my
rage!'
At this moment the bolt of the outward Door was drawn back. The
Prisoner heard the rattling of Chains; The heavy Bar fell; The
Archers were on the point of entering. Worked up to phrenzy by
the urgent danger, shrinking from the approach of death,
terrified by the Daemon's threats, and seeing no other means to
escape destruction, the wretched Monk complied. He signed the
fatal contract, and gave it hastily into the evil Spirit's hands,
whose eyes, as He received the gift, glared with malicious
rapture.
'Take it!' said the God-abandoned; 'Now then save me! Snatch me
from hence!'
'Hold! Do you freely and absolutely renounce your Creator and
his Son?'
'I do! I do!'
'Do you make over your soul to me for ever?'
'For ever!'
'Without reserve or subterfuge? Without future appeal to the
divine mercy?'
The last Chain
fell from the door of the prison: The key was
heard turning in the Lock: Already the iron door grated heavily
upon its rusty hinges.
'I am yours for ever and irrevocably!' cried the Monk wild with
terror: 'I abandon all claim to salvation! I own no power but
yours! Hark! Hark! They come! Oh! save me! Bear me away!'
'I have triumphed! You are mine past reprieve, and I fulfil my
promise.'
While He spoke, the Door unclosed. Instantly the Daemon grasped
one of Ambrosio's arms, spread his broad pinions, and sprang with
him into the air. The roof opened as they soared upwards, and
closed again when they had quitted the Dungeon.
In the meanwhile, the Gaoler was thrown into the utmost surprize
by the disappearance of his Prisoner. Though neither He nor the
Archers were in time to witness the Monk's escape, a sulphurous
smell prevailing through the prison sufficiently informed them by
whose aid He had been liberated. They hastened to make their
report to the Grand Inquisitor. The story, how a Sorcerer had
been carried away by the Devil, was soon noised about Madrid; and
for some days the whole City was employed in discussing the
subject. Gradually it ceased to be the topic of conversation:
Other adventures arose whose novelty engaged universal attention;
and Ambrosio was soon forgotten as totally, as if He never had
existed. While this was passing, the Monk supported by his
infernal guide, traversed the air with the rapidity of an arrow,
and a few moments placed him upon a Precipice's brink, the
steepest in Sierra Morena.
Though rescued from the Inquisition, Ambrosio as yet was
insensible of the blessings of liberty. The damning contract
weighed heavy upon his mind; and the scenes in which He had been
a principal actor had left behind them such impressions as
rendered his heart the seat of anarchy and confusion. The
Objects now before his eyes, and which the full Moon sailing
through clouds permitted him to examine, were ill-calculated to
inspire that calm, of which He stood so much in need. The
disorder of his imagination was increased by the wildness of the
surrounding scenery; By the gloomy Caverns and steep rocks,
rising above each other, and dividing the passing clouds;
solitary clusters of Trees scattered here and there, among whose
thick-twined branches the wind of night sighed hoarsely and
The Monk - A Romance Page 49
