A frightful dream had represented to her Antonia on the verge of a
precipice. She saw her trembling on the brink: Every moment seemed to
threaten her fall, and She heard her exclaim with shrieks, “Save me,
Mother! Save me!—Yet a moment, and it will be too late!” Elvira woke in
terror. The vision had made too strong an impression upon her mind, to
permit her resting till assured of her Daughter’s safety. She hastily
started from her Bed, threw on a loose night-gown, and passing through
the Closet in which slept the Waiting-woman, She reached Antonia’s
chamber just in time to rescue her from the grasp of the Ravisher.
His shame and her amazement seemed to have petrified into Statues both
Elvira and the Monk: They remained gazing upon each other in silence.
The Lady was the first to recover herself.
“It is no dream!” She cried; “It is really Ambrosio, who stands before
me! It is the Man whom Madrid esteems a Saint, that I find at this late
hour near the Couch of my unhappy Child! Monster of Hypocrisy! I
already suspected your designs, but forbore your accusation in pity to
human frailty. Silence would now be criminal: The whole City shall be
informed of your incontinence. I will unmask you, Villain, and convince
the Church what a Viper She cherishes in her bosom.”
Pale and confused the baffled Culprit stood trembling before her.
He would fain have extenuated his offence, but could find no apology
for his conduct: He could produce nothing but broken sentences, and
excuses which contradicted each other. Elvira was too justly incensed
to grant the pardon which He requested. She protested that She would
raise the neighbourhood, and make him an example to all future
Hypocrites. Then hastening to the Bed, She called to Antonia to wake;
and finding that her voice had no effect, She took her arm, and raised
her forcibly from the pillow. The charm operated too powerfully.
Antonia remained insensible, and on being released by her Mother, sank
back upon the pillow.
“This slumber cannot be natural!” cried the amazed Elvira, whose
indignation increased with every moment. “Some mystery is concealed in
it; But tremble, Hypocrite; all your villainy shall soon be unravelled!
Help! Help!” She exclaimed aloud; “Within there! Flora! Flora!”
“Hear me for one moment, Lady!” cried the Monk, restored to himself by
the urgency of the danger; “By all that is sacred and holy, I swear
that your Daughter’s honour is still unviolated. Forgive my
transgression! Spare me the shame of a discovery, and permit me to
regain the Abbey undisturbed. Grant me this request in mercy! I promise
not only that Antonia shall be secure from me in future, but that the
rest of my life shall prove .....”
Elvira interrupted him abruptly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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