“Convince me that I can accept your favours without dishonour, and
there is no Man in the world to whom I am more willing to be obliged.”
“Probably, you have already heard your Sister mention the name of
Alphonso d’Alvarada?”
“Never. Though I feel for Agnes an affection truly fraternal,
circumstances have prevented us from being much together. While yet a
Child She was consigned to the care of her Aunt, who had married a
German Nobleman. At his Castle She remained till two years since, when
She returned to Spain, determined upon secluding herself from the
world.”
“Good God! Lorenzo, you knew of her intention, and yet strove not to
make her change it?”
“Marquis, you wrong me. The intelligence, which I received at Naples,
shocked me extremely, and I hastened my return to Madrid for the
express purpose of preventing the sacrifice. The moment that I arrived,
I flew to the Convent of St. Clare, in which Agnes had chosen to
perform her Noviciate. I requested to see my Sister. Conceive my
surprise when She sent me a refusal; She declared positively, that
apprehending my influence over her mind, She would not trust herself in
my society till the day before that on which She was to receive the
Veil. I supplicated the Nuns; I insisted upon seeing Agnes, and
hesitated not to avow my suspicions that her being kept from me was
against her own inclinations. To free herself from the imputation of
violence, the Prioress brought me a few lines written in my Sister’s
well-known hand, repeating the message already delivered. All future
attempts to obtain a moment’s conversation with her were as fruitless
as the first. She was inflexible, and I was not permitted to see her
till the day preceding that on which She entered the Cloister never to
quit it more. This interview took place in the presence of our
principal Relations. It was for the first time since her childhood that
I saw her, and the scene was most affecting. She threw herself upon my
bosom, kissed me, and wept bitterly. By every possible argument, by
tears, by prayers, by kneeling, I strove to make her abandon her
intention. I represented to her all the hardships of a religious life;
I painted to her imagination all the pleasures which She was going to
quit, and besought her to disclose to me, what occasioned her disgust
to the world. At this last question She turned pale, and her tears
flowed yet faster. She entreated me not to press her on that subject;
That it sufficed me to know that her resolution was taken, and that a
Convent was the only place where She could now hope for tranquillity.
She persevered in her design, and made her profession. I visited her
frequently at the Grate, and every moment that I passed with her, made
me feel more affliction at her loss. I was shortly after obliged to
quit Madrid; I returned but yesterday evening, and since then have not
had time to call at St. Clare’s Convent.”
“Then till I mentioned it, you never heard the name of Alphonso
d’Alvarada?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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