“Alas!” said Theodore, “I have never known but calamity until this hour--perhaps shall never know other fortune again: suffer the chaste raptures of holy gratitude: ’tis my soul would print its effusions on thy hand.” “Forbear, and be gone,” said Matilda; “how would Isabella approve of seeing thee at my feet?” “Who is Isabella?” said the young man with surprise. “Ah me! I fear,” said the princess, “I am serving a deceitful one;--hast thou forgot thy curiosity this morning?” “Thy looks, thy actions, all thy beauteous self, seem an emanation of divinity,” said Theodore; “but thy words are dark and mysterious:--speak, lady; speak to thy servant’s comprehension.” “Thou understandest but too well!” said Matilda. “But once more, I command thee to be gone: thy blood, which I may preserve, will be on my head, if I waste the time in vain discourse.” “I go, lady,” said Theodore, “because it is thy will, and because I would not bring the grey hairs of my father with sorrow to the grave. Say but, adored lady, that I have thy gentle pity.” “Stay,” said Matilda; “I will conduct thee to the subterraneous vault by which Isabella escaped; it will lead thee to the church of St. Nicholas, where thou mayest take sanctuary.” “What!” said Theodore, “was it another, and not thy lovely self, that I assisted to find the subterraneous passage?” “It was,” said Matilda; “but ask no more; I tremble to see thee still abide here: fly to the sanctuary.” “To sanctuary!” said Theodore; “no, princess, sanctuaries are for helpless damsels, or for criminals. Theodore’s soul is free from guilt, nor will wear the appearance of it. Give me a sword, lady, and thy father shall learn that Theodore scorns an ignominious flight.” “Rash youth!” said Matilda, “thou wouldst not dare to lift thy presumptuous arm against the Prince of Otranto?” “Not against thy father; indeed, I dare not,” said Theodore: “excuse me, lady; I had forgotten--but could I gaze on thee, and remember thou art sprung from the tyrant Manfred?--but he is thy father, and from this moment my injuries are buried in oblivion.” A deep and hollow groan, which seemed to come from above, startled the princess and Theodore. “Good Heavens! we are overheard!” said the princess. They listened, but perceived no farther noise: they both concluded it the effect of pent-up vapours. And the princess, preceding Theodore softly, carried him to her father’s armoury, where equipping him with a complete suit, he was conducted by Matilda to the postern-gate.