the monk(僧侣)-第76节

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dream　told　me　。　。　。　。　。　。　But　where　am　I？　　Let　me　go！　　I　cannot
stay　here！'

She　attempted　to　rise；　but　the　Monk　prevented　her。

'Be　calm；　lovely　Antonia！'　He　replied；　'No　danger　is　near　you：　
Confide　in　my　protection。　　Why　do　you　gaze　on　me　so　earnestly？　
Do　you　not　know　me？　　Not　know　your　Friend？　　Ambrosio？'

'Ambrosio？　　My　Friend？　　Oh！　　yes；　yes；　I　remember　。　。　。　。　。　。　
But　why　am　I　here？　　Who　has　brought　me？　　Why　are　you　with　me？　
Oh！　Flora　bad　me　beware　。　。　。　。　。！　Here　are　nothing　but　Graves；
and　Tombs；　and　Skeletons！　This　place　frightens　me！　　Good　Ambrosio
take　me　away　from　it；　for　it　recalls　my　fearful　dream！　　Methought
I　was　dead；　and　laid　in　my　grave！　　Good　Ambrosio；　take　me　from
hence。　　Will　you　not？　　Oh！　will　you　not？　　Do　not　look　on　me　thus！

Your　flaming　eyes　terrify　me！　　Spare　me；　Father！　Oh！　spare　me　for
God's　sake！'

'Why　these　terrors；　Antonia？'　rejoined　the　Abbot；　folding　her　in
his　arms；　and　covering　her　bosom　with　kisses　which　She　in　vain
struggled　to　avoid：　　'What　fear　you　from　me；　from　one　who　adores
you？　　What　matters　it　where　you　are？　　This　Sepulchre　seems　to　me
Love's　bower；　This　gloom　is　the　friendly　night　of　mystery　which
He　spreads　over　our　delights！　　Such　do　I　think　it；　and　such　must
my　Antonia。　　Yes；　my　sweet　Girl！　　Yes！　Your　veins　shall　glow　with
fire　which　circles　in　mine；　and　my　transports　shall　be　doubled
by　your　sharing　them！'

While　He　spoke　thus；　He　repeated　his　embraces；　and　permitted
himself　the　most　indecent　liberties。　　Even　Antonia's　ignorance
was　not　proof　against　the　freedom　of　his　behaviour。　　She　was
sensible　of　her　danger；　forced　herself　from　his　arms；　and　her
shroud　being　her　only　garment；　She　wrapped　it　closely　round　her。

'Unhand　me；　Father！'　She　cried；　her　honest　indignation　tempered
by　alarm　at　her　unprotected　position；　'Why　have　you　brought　me　to
this　place？　　Its　appearance　freezes　me　with　horror！　　Convey　me
from　hence；　if　you　have　the　least　sense　of　pity　and　humanity！　
Let　me　return　to　the　House　which　I　have　quitted　I　know　not　how；
But　stay　here　one　moment　longer；　I　neither　will；　or　ought。'

Though　the　Monk　was　somewhat　startled　by　the　resolute　tone　in
which　this　speech　was　delivered；　it　produced　upon　him　no　other
effect　than　surprize。　　He　caught　her　hand；　forced　her　upon　his
knee；　and　gazing　upon　her　with　gloting　eyes；　He　thus　replied　to
her。

'Compose　yourself；　Antonia。　　Resistance　is　unavailing；　and　I　need
disavow　my　passion　for　you　no　longer。　　You　are　imagined　dead：　
Society　is　for　ever　lost　to　you。　　I　possess　you　here　alone；　You
are　absolutely　in　my　power；　and　I　burn　with　desires　which　I　must
either　gratify　or　die：　　But　I　would　owe　my　happiness　to
yourself。　　My　lovely　Girl！　　My　adorable　Antonia！　　Let　me　instruct
you　in　joys　to　which　you　are　still　a　Stranger；　and　teach　you　to
feel　those　pleasures　in　my　arms　which　I　must　soon　enjoy　in
yours。　　Nay；　this　struggling　is　childish；'　He　continued；　seeing
her　repell　his　caresses；　and　endeavour　to　escape　from　his　grasp；
'No　aid　is　near：　　Neither　heaven　or　earth　shall　save　you　from　my
embraces。　　Yet　why　reject　pleasures　so　sweet；　so　rapturous？　　No
one　observes　us：　Our　loves　will　be　a　secret　to　all　the　world：　
Love　and　opportunity　invite　your　giving　loose　to　your　passions。
Yield　to　them；　my　Antonia！　　Yield　to　them；　my　lovely　Girl！　　Throw
your　arms　thus　fondly　round　me；　Join　your　lips　thus　closely　to
mine！　　Amidst　all　her　gifts；　has　Nature　denied　her　most　precious；
the　sensibility　of　Pleasure？　　Oh！　impossible！　　Every　feature；
look；　and　motion　declares　you　formed　to　bless；　and　to　be　blessed
yourself！　　Turn　not　on　me　those　supplicating　eyes：　　Consult　your
own　charms；　They　will　tell　you　that　I　am　proof　against　entreaty。　
Can　I　relinquish　these　limbs　so　white；　so　soft；　so　delicate；
These　swelling　breasts；　round；　full；　and　elastic！　　These　lips
fraught　with　such　inexhaustible　sweetness？　　Can　I　relinquish
these　treasures；　and　leave　them　to　another's　enjoyment？　　No；
Antonia；　never；　never！　　I　swear　it　by　this　kiss；　and　this！　and
this！'

With　every　moment　the　Friar's　passion　became　more　ardent；　and
Antonia's　terror　more　intense。　　She　struggled　to　disengage
herself　from　his　arms：　　Her　exertions　were　unsuccessful；　and
finding　that　Ambrosio's　conduct　became　still　freer；　She　shrieked
for　assistance　with　all　her　strength。　　The　aspect　of　the　Vault；
the　pale　glimmering　of　the　Lamp；　the　surrounding　obscurity；　the
sight　of　the　Tomb；　and　the　objects　of　mortality　which　met　her
eyes　on　either　side；　were　ill…calculated　to　inspire　her　with
those　emotions　by　which　the　Friar　was　agitated。　　Even　his
caresses　terrified　her　from　their　fury；　and　created　no　other
sentiment　than　fear。　　On　the　contrary；　her　alarm；　her　evident
disgust；　and　incessant　opposition；　seemed　only　to　inflame　the
Monk's　desires；　and　supply　his　brutality　with　additional
strength。　　Antonia's　shrieks　were　unheard：　　Yet　She　continued
them；　nor　abandoned　her　endeavours　to　escape；　till　exhausted　and
out　of　breath　She　sank　from　his　arms　upon　her　knees；　and　once
more　had　recourse　to　prayers　and　supplications。　　This　attempt　had
no　better　success　than　the　former。　　On　the　contrary；　taking
advantage　of　her　situation；　the　Ravisher　threw　himself　by　her
side：　　He　clasped　her　to　his　bosom　almost　lifeless　with　terror；
and　faint　with　struggling。　　He　stifled　her　cries　with　kisses；
treated　her　with　the　rudeness　of　an　unprincipled　Barbarian；
proceeded　from　freedom　to　freedom；　and　in　the　violence　of　his
lustful　delirium；　wounded　and　bruised　her　tender　limbs。　　Heedless
of　her　tears；　cries　and　entreaties；　He　gradually　made　himself
Master　of　her　person；　and　desisted　not　from　his　prey；　till　He　had
accomplished　his　crime　and　the　dishonour　of　Antonia。

Scarcely　had　He　succeeded　in　his　design　than　He　shuddered　at
himself　and　the　means　by　which　it　was　effected。　　The　very　excess
of　his　former　eagerness　to　possess　Antonia　now　contributed　to
inspire　him　with　disgust；　and　a　secret　impulse　made　him　feel　how
base　and　unmanly　was　the　crime　which　He　had　just　committed。　　He
started　hastily　from　her　arms。　　She；　who　so　lately　had　been　the
object　of　his　adoration；　now　raised　no　other　sentiment　in　his
heart　than　aversion　and　rage。　　He　turned　away　from　her；　or　if　his
eyes　rested　upon　her　figure　involuntarily；　it　was　only　to　dart
upon　her　looks　of　hate。　　The　Unfortunate　had　fainted　ere　the
completion　of　her　disgrace：　She　only　recovered　life　to　be
sensible　of　her　misfortune。　She　remained　stretched　upon　the　earth
in　silent　despair：　　The　tears　chased　each　other　slowly　down　her
cheeks；　and　her　bosom　heaved　with　frequent　sobs。　　Oppressed　with
grief；　She　continued　for　some　time　in　this　state　of　torpidity。　
At　length　She　rose　with　difficulty；　and　dragging　her　feeble　steps
towards　the　door；　prepared　to　quit　the　dungeon。

The　sound　of　her　footsteps　rouzed　the　Monk　from　his　sullen
apathy。　　Starting　from　the　Tomb　against　which　He　reclined；　while
his　eyes　wandered　over　the　images　of　corruption　contained　in　it；
He　pursued　the　Victim　of　his　brutality；　and　soon　overtook　her。　
He　seized　her　by　the　arm；　and　violently　forced　her　back　into　the
dungeon。

'Whither　go　you？'　He　cried　in　a　stern　voice；　'Return　this
instant！'

Antonia　trembled　at　the　fury　of　his　countenance。

'What；　would　you　more？'　She　said　with　timidity：　'Is　not　my　ruin
compleated？　　Am　I　not　undone；　undone　for　ever？　　Is　not　your
cruelty　contented；　or　have　I　yet　more　to　suffer？　　Let　me　depart。　
Let　me　return　to　my　home；　and　weep　unrestrained　my　shame　and　my
affliction！'　

'Return　to　your　home？'　repeated　the　Monk；　with　bitter　and
contemptuous　mockery；　Then　suddenly　his　eyes　flaming　with
passion；　'What？　That　you　may　denounce　me　to　the　world？　　That
you　may　proclaim　me　an　Hypocrite；　a　Ravisher；　a　Betrayer；　a
Monster　of　cruelty；　lust；　and　ingratitude？　　No；　no；　no！　　I　know
well　the　whole　weight　of　my　offences；　Well　that　your　complaints
would　be　too　just；　and　my　crimes　too　notorious！　　You　shall　not
from　hence　to　tell　Madrid　that　I　am　a　Villain；　that　my　conscience
is　loaded　with　sins　which　make　me　despair　of　Heaven's　pardon。　
Wretched　Girl；　you　must　stay　here　with　me！　　Here　amidst　these
lonely　Tombs；　these　images　of　Death；　these　rotting　loathsome
corrupted　bodies！　　Here　shall　you　stay；　and　witness　my
sufferings；　witness　what　it　is　to　die　in　the　horrors　of
despondency；　and　breathe　the　last　groan　in　blasphemy　and　curses！　
And　who　am　I　to　thank　for　this？　　What　seduced　me　into　crimes；
whose　bare　remembrance　makes　me　shudder？　　Fatal　Witch！　was　it　not
thy　beauty？　　Have　you　not　plunged　my　soul　into　infamy？　　Have　you
not　made　me　a　perjured　Hypocrite；　a　Ravisher；　an　Assassin！　　Nay；
at　this　moment；　does　not　that　angel　look　bid　me　despair　of　God's
forgiveness？　　Oh！　when　I　stand　before　his　judgment…throne；　that
look　will　suffice　to　damn　me！　　You　will　tell　my　Judge　that　you
were　happy；　till　I　saw　you；　that　you　were　innocent；　till　I
polluted　you！　　You　will　come　with　those　tearful　eyes；　those
cheeks　pale　and　ghastly；　those　hands　lifted　in　supplication；　as
when　you　sought　from　me　that　mercy　which　I　gave　not！　　Then　will
my　perdition　be　certain！　　Then　will　come　your　Mother's　Ghost；　and
hurl　me　down　into　the　dwellings　of　Fiends；　and　flames；　and
Furies；　and　everlasting