The Monk: A Romance
friendship and intimacy with you. She listened to me with avidity; She
seemed to devour my words while I spoke in your praise, and her eyes
thanked me for my affection to her Brother. My constant and unremitted
attention at length gained me her heart, and with difficulty I obliged
her to confess that She loved me. When however, I proposed her quitting
the Castle of Lindenberg, She rejected the idea in positive terms.
“Be generous, Alphonso,” She said; “You possess my heart, but use not
the gift ignobly. Employ not your ascendancy over me in persuading me
to take a step, at which I should hereafter have to blush. I am young
and deserted: My Brother, my only Friend, is separated from me, and my
other Relations act with me as my Enemies. Take pity on my unprotected
situation. Instead of seducing me to an action which would cover me
with shame, strive rather to gain the affections of those who govern
me. The Baron esteems you. My Aunt, to others ever harsh proud and
contemptuous, remembers that you rescued her from the hands of
Murderers, and wears with you alone the appearance of kindness and
benignity. Try then your influence over my Guardians. If they consent
to our union my hand is yours: From your account of my Brother, I
cannot doubt your obtaining his approbation: And when they find the
impossibility of executing their design, I trust that my Parents will
excuse my disobedience, and expiate by some other sacrifice my Mother’s
fatal vow.”
From the first moment that I beheld Agnes, I had endeavoured to
conciliate the favour of her Relations. Authorised by the confession of
her regard, I redoubled my exertions. My principal Battery was directed
against the Baroness; It was easy to discover that her word was law in
the Castle: Her Husband paid her the most absolute submission, and
considered her as a superior Being. She was about forty: In her youth
She had been a Beauty; But her charms had been upon that large scale
which can but ill sustain the shock of years: However She still
possessed some remains of them. Her understanding was strong and
excellent when not obscured by prejudice, which unluckily was but
seldom the case. Her passions were violent: She spared no pains to
gratify them, and pursued with unremitting vengeance those who opposed
themselves to her wishes. The warmest of Friends, the most inveterate
of Enemies, such was the Baroness Lindenberg.
I laboured incessantly to please her: Unluckily I succeeded but too
well. She seemed gratified by my attention, and treated me with a
distinction accorded by her to no one else. One of my daily occupations
was reading to her for several hours: Those hours I should much rather
have past with Agnes; But as I was conscious that complaisance for her
Aunt would advance our union, I submitted with a good grace to the
penance imposed upon me. Donna Rodolpha’s Library was principally
composed of old Spanish Romances: These were her favourite studies, and
once a day one of these unmerciful Volumes was put regularly into my
hands. I read the wearisome adventures of “_Perceforest_,” “_Tirante
the White_,” “_Palmerin of England_,” and “_the Knight of the Sun_,”
till the Book was on the point of falling from my hands through Ennui.
However, the increasing pleasure which the Baroness seemed to take in
my society, encouraged me to persevere; and latterly She showed for me
a partiality so marked, that Agnes advised me to seize the first
opportunity of declaring our mutual passion to her Aunt.
One Evening, I was alone with Donna Rodolpha in her own apartment. As
our readings generally treated of love, Agnes was never permitted to
assist at them. I was just congratulating myself on having finished
“_The Loves of Tristan and the Queen Iseult_——”
“Ah! The Unfortunates!” cried the Baroness; “How say you, Segnor? Do
you think it possible for Man to feel an attachment so disinterested
and sincere?”
“I cannot doubt it,” replied I; “My own heart furnishes me with the
certainty. Ah! Donna Rodolpha, might I but hope for your approbation of
my love! Might I but confess the name of my Mistress without incurring
your resentment!”
She interrupted me.
“Suppose, I were to spare you that confession? Suppose I were to
acknowledge that the object of your desires is not unknown to me?
Suppose I were to say that She returns your affection, and laments not
less sincerely than yourself the unhappy vows which separate her from
you?”
“Ah! Donna Rodolpha!” I exclaimed, throwing myself upon my knees before
her, and pressing her hand to my lips, “You have discovered my secret!
What is your decision? Must I despair, or may I reckon upon your
favour?”
She withdrew not the hand which I held; But She turned from me, and
covered her face with the other.
“How can I refuse it you?” She replied; “Ah! Don Alphonso, I have long
perceived to whom your attentions were directed, but till now I
perceived not the impression which they made upon my heart.
At length I can no longer hide my weakness either from myself or from
you. I yield to the violence of my passion, and own that I adore you!
For three long months I stifled my desires; But grown stronger by
resistance, I submit to their impetuosity. Pride, fear, and honour,
respect for myself, and my engagements to the Baron, all are
vanquished. I sacrifice them to my love for you, and it still seems to
me that I pay too mean a price for your possession.”
She paused for an answer.—Judge, my Lorenzo, what must have been my
confusion at this discovery. I at once saw all the magnitude of this
obstacle, which I had raised myself to my happiness. The Baroness had
placed those attentions to her own account, which I had merely paid her
for the sake of Agnes: And the strength of her expressions, the looks
which accompanied them, and my knowledge of her revengeful disposition
made me tremble for myself and my Beloved. I was silent for some
minutes. I knew not how to reply to her declaration: I could only
resolve to clear up the mistake without delay, and for the present to
conceal from her knowledge the name of my Mistress. No sooner had She
avowed her passion than the transports which before were evident in my
features gave place to consternation and constraint. I dropped her
hand, and rose from my knees. The change in my countenance did not
escape her observation.
“What means this silence?” said She in a trembling voice; “Where is
that joy which you led me to expect?”
“Forgive me, Segnora,” I answered, “if what necessity forces from me
should seem harsh and ungrateful: To encourage you in an error, which,
however it may flatter myself, must prove to you the source of
disappointment, would make me appear criminal in every eye. Honour
obliges me to inform you that you have mistaken for the solicitude of
Love what was only the attention of Friendship. The latter sentiment is
that which I wished to excite in your bosom: To entertain a warmer,
respect for you forbids me, and gratitude for the Baron’s generous
treatment. Perhaps these reasons would not be sufficient to shield me
from your attractions, were it not that my affections are already
bestowed upon another. You have charms, Segnora, which might captivate
the most insensible; No heart unoccupied could resist them. Happy is it
for me that mine is no longer in my possession; or I should have to
reproach myself for ever with having violated the Laws of Hospitality.
Recollect yourself, noble Lady; Recollect what is owed by you to
honour, by me to the Baron, and replace by esteem and friendship those
sentiments which I never can return.”
The Baroness turned pale at this unexpected and positive declaration:
She doubted whether She slept or woke. At length recovering from her
surprise, consternation gave place to rage, and the blood rushed back
into her cheeks with violence.
“Villain!” She cried; “Monster of deceit! Thus is the avowal of my love
received? Is it thus that.... But no, no! It cannot, it shall not be!
Alphonso, behold me at your feet! Be witness of my despair! Look with
pity on a Woman who loves you with sincere affection! She who possesses
your heart, how has She merited such a treasure? What sacrifice has She
made to you?
What raises her above Rodolpha?”
I endeavoured to lift her from her Knees.
“For God’s sake, Segnora, restrain these transports: They disgrace
yourself and me. Your exclamations may be heard, and your secret
divulged to your Attendants. I see that my presence only irritates you:
permit me to retire.”
I prepared to quit the apartment: The Baroness caught me suddenly by
the arm.
“And who is this happy Rival?” said She in a menacing tone; “I will
know her name, and _when_ I know it.... ! She is someone in my power;
You entreated my favour, my protection! Let me but find her, let me but
know who dares to rob me of your heart, and She shall suffer every
torment which jealousy and disappointment can inflict! Who is She?
Answer me this moment. Hope not to conceal her from my vengeance! Spies
shall be set over you; every step, every look shall be watched; Your
eyes will discover my Rival; I shall know her, and when She is found,
tremble, Alphonso for her and for yourself!”
As She uttered these last words her fury mounted to such a pitch as to
stop her powers of respiration. She panted, groaned, and at length
fainted away. As She was falling I caught her in my arms, and placed
her upon a Sopha. Then hastening to the door, I summoned her Women to
her assistance; I committed her to their care, and seized the
opportunity of escaping.
Agitated and confused beyond expression I bent my steps towards the
Garden. The benignity with which the Baroness had listened to me at
first raised my hopes to the highest pitch: I imagined her to have
perceived my attachment for her Niece, and to approve of it. Extreme
was my disappointment at understanding the true purport of her
discourse. I knew not what course to take: The superstition of the
Parents of Agnes, aided by her Aunt’s unfortunate passion, seemed to
oppose such obstacles to our union as were almost insurmountable.
As I past by a low parlour, whose windows looked into the Garden,
through the door which stood half open I observed Agnes seated at a
Table. She was occupied in drawing, and several unfinished sketches
were scattered round her. I entered, still undetermined whether I
should acquaint her with the declaration of the Baroness.
“Oh! is it only you?” said She, raising her head; “You are no Stranger,
and I shall continue my occupation without ceremony. Take a Chair, and
seat yourself by me.”
I obeyed, and placed myself near the Table. Unconscious what I was
doing, and totally occupied by the scene which had just passed, I took
up some of the drawings, and cast my eye over them. One of the subjects
struck me from its singularity. It represented the great Hall of the
Castle of Lindenberg. A door conducting to a narrow staircase stood
half open. In the foreground appeared a Groupe of figures, placed in
the most grotesque attitudes; Terror was expressed upon every
countenance.
Here was One upon his knees with his eyes cast up to heaven, and
praying most devoutly; There Another was creeping away upon all fours.
Some hid their faces in their cloaks or the laps of their Companions;
Some had concealed themselves beneath a Table, on which the remnants of
a feast were visible; While Others with gaping mouths and eyes
wide-stretched pointed to a Figure, supposed to have created this
disturbance. It represented a Female of more than human stature,
clothed in the habit of some religious order. Her face was veiled; On
her arm hung a chaplet of beads; Her dress was in several places
stained with the blood which trickled from a wound upon her bosom. In