—“Nay, nay, good Countess,” said the Abbess with some warmth; “no prejudices, I implore you! The author of that manuscript, a copy of which I propose entrusting to you, was no Guiderius, no Luprian, believe me! No, daughter, he was one of the wisest and holiest men of the age, in which he lived; a man in short, whose virtues conferred honour on the rank of a prelate, and who was in fact, as well as in name, a true dignitary of the church.”— I am now waiting in momentary expectation of receiving the promised manuscript. The situation, in which I exist at present, is such, as makes it necessary for me to seize every means of diverting the natural current of my thoughts into a different channel: it is to this necessity, that a great portion must be ascribed of the impatience, with which I look forward to the arrival of this narrative. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ _Elizabeth of Torrenburg to Count Oswald._ I have received the manuscript; I have read it, and have read it more than once.—I send it to _you_, my brother; read it, as _I_ have done; feel, what _I_ have felt; then will nothing surprise you which you may hear, respecting the actions of your sister ELIZABETH. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ _PART THE SIXTH._ THE SISTERS WITHOUT A NAME. _Written by the Abbot of Cloister-Curwald._