The Monk: A Romance
How fair did that world seem to me, from which I was for ever excluded!
How many loved objects did it contain, whom I never should behold
again! As I threw a look of terror round my prison, as I shrunk from
the cutting wind which howled through my subterraneous dwelling, the
change seemed so striking, so abrupt, that I doubted its reality.
That the Duke de Medina’s Niece, that the destined Bride of the Marquis
de las Cisternas, One bred up in affluence, related to the noblest
families in Spain, and rich in a multitude of affectionate Friends,
that She should in one moment become a Captive, separated from the
world for ever, weighed down with chains, and reduced to support life
with the coarsest aliments, appeared a change so sudden and incredible,
that I believed myself the sport of some frightful vision. Its
continuance convinced me of my mistake with but too much certainty.
Every morning my hopes were disappointed. At length I abandoned all
idea of escaping: I resigned myself to my fate, and only expected
Liberty when She came the Companion of Death.
My mental anguish, and the dreadful scenes in which I had been an
Actress, advanced the period of my labour. In solitude and misery,
abandoned by all, unassisted by Art, uncomforted by Friendship, with
pangs which if witnessed would have touched the hardest heart, was I
delivered of my wretched burthen. It came alive into the world; But I
knew not how to treat it, or by what means to preserve its existence. I
could only bathe it with tears, warm it in my bosom, and offer up
prayers for its safety. I was soon deprived of this mournful
employment: The want of proper attendance, my ignorance how to nurse
it, the bitter cold of the dungeon, and the unwholesome air which
inflated its lungs, terminated my sweet Babe’s short and painful
existence. It expired in a few hours after its birth, and I witnessed
its death with agonies which beggar all description.
But my grief was unavailing. My Infant was no more; nor could all my
sighs impart to its little tender frame the breath of a moment. I rent
my winding-sheet, and wrapped in it my lovely Child. I placed it on my
bosom, its soft arm folded round my neck, and its pale cold cheek
resting upon mine. Thus did its lifeless limbs repose, while I covered
it with kisses, talked to it, wept, and moaned over it without
remission, day or night. Camilla entered my prison regularly once every
twenty-four hours, to bring me food. In spite of her flinty nature, She
could not behold this spectacle unmoved. She feared that grief so
excessive would at length turn my brain, and in truth I was not always
in my proper senses. From a principle of compassion She urged me to
permit the Corse to be buried: But to this I never would consent. I
vowed not to part with it while I had life: Its presence was my only
comfort, and no persuasion could induce me to give it up. It soon
became a mass of putridity, and to every eye was a loathsome and
disgusting Object; To every eye but a Mother’s. In vain did human
feelings bid me recoil from this emblem of mortality with repugnance: I
withstood, and vanquished that repugnance. I persisted in holding my
Infant to my bosom, in lamenting it, loving it, adoring it! Hour after
hour have I passed upon my sorry Couch, contemplating what had once
been my Child: I endeavoured to retrace its features through the livid
corruption, with which they were overspread: During my confinement this
sad occupation was my only delight; and at that time Worlds should not
have bribed me to give it up. Even when released from my prison, I
brought away my Child in my arms. The representations of my two kind
Friends,‘—(Here She took the hands of the Marchioness and Virginia, and
pressed them alternately to her lips)—’at length persuaded me to resign
my unhappy Infant to the Grave. Yet I parted from it with reluctance:
However, reason at length prevailed; I suffered it to be taken from me,
and it now reposes in consecrated ground.
I before mentioned that regularly once a day Camilla brought me food.
She sought not to embitter my sorrows with reproach: She bad me, ’tis
true, resign all hopes of liberty and worldly happiness; But She
encouraged me to bear with patience my temporary distress, and advised
me to draw comfort from religion.
My situation evidently affected her more than She ventured to express:
But She believed that to extenuate my fault would make me less anxious
to repent it. Often while her lips painted the enormity of my guilt in
glaring colours, her eyes betrayed, how sensible She was to my
sufferings. In fact I am certain that none of my Tormentors, (for the
three other Nuns entered my prison occasionally) were so much actuated
by the spirit of oppressive cruelty as by the idea that to afflict my
body was the only way to preserve my soul. Nay, even this persuasion
might not have had such weight with them, and they might have thought
my punishment too severe, had not their good dispositions been represt
by blind obedience to their Superior. Her resentment existed in full
force. My project of elopement having been discovered by the Abbot of
the Capuchins, She supposed herself lowered in his opinion by my
disgrace, and in consequence her hate was inveterate. She told the Nuns
to whose custody I was committed that my fault was of the most heinous
nature, that no sufferings could equal the offence, and that nothing
could save me from eternal perdition but punishing my guilt with the
utmost severity. The Superior’s word is an oracle to but too many of a
Convent’s Inhabitants. The Nuns believed whatever the Prioress chose to
assert: Though contradicted by reason and charity, they hesitated not
to admit the truth of her arguments. They followed her injunctions to
the very letter, and were fully persuaded that to treat me with lenity,
or to show the least pity for my woes, would be a direct means to
destroy my chance for salvation.
Camilla, being most employed about me, was particularly charged by the
Prioress to treat me with harshness. In compliance with these orders,
She frequently strove to convince me, how just was my punishment, and
how enormous was my crime: She bad me think myself too happy in saving
my soul by mortifying my body, and even threatened me sometimes with
eternal perdition. Yet as I before observed, She always concluded by
words of encouragement and comfort; and though uttered by Camilla’s
lips, I easily recognised the Domina’s expressions. Once, and once
only, the Prioress visited me in my dungeon. She then treated me with
the most unrelenting cruelty: She loaded me with reproaches, taunted me
with my frailty, and when I implored her mercy, told me to ask it of
heaven, since I deserved none on earth. She even gazed upon my lifeless
Infant without emotion; and when She left me, I heard her charge
Camilla to increase the hardships of my Captivity. Unfeeling Woman! But
let me check my resentment: She has expiated her errors by her sad and
unexpected death. Peace be with her; and may her crimes be forgiven in
heaven, as I forgive her my sufferings on earth!
Thus did I drag on a miserable existence. Far from growing familiar
with my prison, I beheld it every moment with new horror. The cold
seemed more piercing and bitter, the air more thick and pestilential.
My frame became weak, feverish, and emaciated. I was unable to rise
from the bed of Straw, and exercise my limbs in the narrow limits, to
which the length of my chain permitted me to move. Though exhausted,
faint, and weary, I trembled to profit by the approach of Sleep: My
slumbers were constantly interrupted by some obnoxious Insect crawling
over me.
Sometimes I felt the bloated Toad, hideous and pampered with the
poisonous vapours of the dungeon, dragging his loathsome length along
my bosom: Sometimes the quick cold Lizard rouzed me leaving his slimy
track upon my face, and entangling itself in the tresses of my wild and
matted hair: Often have I at waking found my fingers ringed with the
long worms which bred in the corrupted flesh of my Infant. At such
times I shrieked with terror and disgust, and while I shook off the
reptile, trembled with all a Woman’s weakness.
Such was my situation, when Camilla was suddenly taken ill. A dangerous
fever, supposed to be infectious, confined her to her bed. Every one
except the Lay-Sister appointed to nurse her, avoided her with caution,
and feared to catch the disease. She was perfectly delirious, and by no
means capable of attending to me. The Domina and the Nuns admitted to
the mystery, had latterly given me over entirely to Camilla’s care: In
consequence, they busied themselves no more about me; and occupied by
preparing for the approaching Festival, it is more than probable that I
never once entered into their thoughts. Of the reason of Camilla’s
negligence, I have been informed since my release by the Mother St.
Ursula; At that time I was very far from suspecting its cause. On the
contrary, I waited for my Gaoler’s appearance at first with impatience,
and afterwards with despair. One day passed away; Another followed it;
The Third arrived. Still no Camilla! Still no food! I knew the lapse of
time by the wasting of my Lamp, to supply which fortunately a week’s
supply of Oil had been left me. I supposed, either that the Nuns had
forgotten me, or that the Domina had ordered them to let me perish. The
latter idea seemed the most probable; Yet so natural is the love of
life, that I trembled to find it true. Though embittered by every
species of misery, my existence was still dear to me, and I dreaded to
lose it. Every succeeding minute proved to me that I must abandon all
hopes of relief. I was become an absolute skeleton: My eyes already
failed me, and my limbs were beginning to stiffen. I could only express
my anguish, and the pangs of that hunger which gnawed my heart-strings,
by frequent groans, whose melancholy sound the vaulted roof of the
dungeon re-echoed. I resigned myself to my fate: I already expected the
moment of dissolution, when my Guardian Angel, when my beloved Brother
arrived in time to save me. My sight grown dim and feeble at first
refused to recognize him; and when I did distinguish his features, the
sudden burst of rapture was too much for me to bear. I was overpowered
by the swell of joy at once more beholding a Friend, and that a Friend
so dear to me. Nature could not support my emotions, and took her
refuge in insensibility.
You already know, what are my obligations to the Family of
Villa-Franca: But what you cannot know is the extent of my gratitude,
boundless as the excellence of my Benefactors. Lorenzo! Raymond! Names
so dear to me! Teach me to bear with fortitude this sudden transition
from misery to bliss. So lately a Captive, opprest with chains,
perishing with hunger, suffering every inconvenience of cold and want,
hidden from the light, excluded from society, hopeless, neglected, and
as I feared, forgotten; Now restored to life and liberty, enjoying all
the comforts of affluence and ease, surrounded by those who are most
loved by me, and on the point of becoming his Bride who has long been
wedded to my heart, my happiness is so exquisite, so perfect, that
scarcely can my brain sustain the weight. One only wish remains
ungratified: It is to see my Brother in his former health, and to know
that Antonia’s memory is buried in her grave.
Granted this prayer, I have nothing more to desire. I trust, that my
past sufferings have purchased from heaven the pardon of my momentary
weakness. That I have offended, offended greatly and grievously, I am
fully conscious; But let not my Husband, because He once conquered my
virtue, doubt the propriety of my future conduct. I have been frail and
full of error: But I yielded not to the warmth of constitution;