The Monk - A Romance Read online

  The Monk - A Romance

  by

  Matthew Lewis

  Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, fagas,

  Nocturnos lemures, portentaque.

  Horat.

  Dreams, magic terrors, spells of mighty power,

  Witches, and ghosts who rove at midnight hour.

  PREFACE

  IMITATION OF HORACE

  Ep. 20.--B. 1.

  Methinks, Oh! vain ill-judging Book,

  I see thee cast a wishful look,

  Where reputations won and lost are

  In famous row called Paternoster.

  Incensed to find your precious olio

  Buried in unexplored port-folio,

  You scorn the prudent lock and key,

  And pant well bound and gilt to see

  Your Volume in the window set

  Of Stockdale, Hookham, or Debrett.

  Go then, and pass that dangerous bourn

  Whence never Book can back return:

  And when you find, condemned, despised,

  Neglected, blamed, and criticised,

  Abuse from All who read you fall,

  (If haply you be read at all

  Sorely will you your folly sigh at,

  And wish for me, and home, and quiet.

  Assuming now a conjuror's office, I

  Thus on your future Fortune prophesy:--

  Soon as your novelty is o'er,

  And you are young and new no more,

  In some dark dirty corner thrown,

  Mouldy with damps, with cobwebs strown,

  Your leaves shall be the Book-worm's prey;

  Or sent to Chandler-Shop away,

  And doomed to suffer public scandal,

  Shall line the trunk, or wrap the candle!

  But should you meet with approbation,

  And some one find an inclination

  To ask, by natural transition

  Respecting me and my condition;

  That I am one, the enquirer teach,

  Nor very poor, nor very rich;

  Of passions strong, of hasty nature,

  Of graceless form and dwarfish stature;

  By few approved, and few approving;

  Extreme in hating and in loving;

  Abhorring all whom I dislike,

  Adoring who my fancy strike;

  In forming judgements never long,

  And for the most part judging wrong;

  In friendship firm, but still believing

  Others are treacherous and deceiving,

  And thinking in the present aera

  That Friendship is a pure chimaera:

  More passionate no creature living,

  Proud, obstinate, and unforgiving,

  But yet for those who kindness show,

  Ready through fire and smoke to go.

  Again, should it be asked your page,

  'Pray, what may be the author's age?'

  Your faults, no doubt, will make it clear,

  I scarce have seen my twentieth year,

  Which passed, kind Reader, on my word,

  While England's Throne held George the Third.

  Now then your venturous course pursue:

  Go, my delight! Dear Book, adieu!

  Hague,

  Oct. 28, 1794. M. G. L.

  ADVERTISEMENT

  The first idea of this Romance was suggested by the story of the

  Santon Barsisa, related in The Guardian.--The Bleeding Nun is a

  tradition still credited in many parts of Germany; and I have

  been told that the ruins of the Castle of Lauenstein, which She

  is supposed to haunt, may yet be seen upon the borders of

  Thuringia.--The Water-King, from the third to the twelfth stanza,

  is the fragment of an original Danish Ballad--And Belerma and

  Durandarte is translated from some stanzas to be found in a

  collection of old Spanish poetry, which contains also the popular

  song of Gayferos and Melesindra, mentioned in Don Quixote.--I

  have now made a full avowal of all the plagiarisms of which I am

  aware myself; but I doubt not, many more may be found, of which I

  am at present totally unconscious.

  VOLUME I

  CHAPTER I

  ----Lord Angelo is precise;

  Stands at a guard with envy; Scarce confesses

  That his blood flows, or that his appetite

  Is more to bread than stone.

  Measure for Measure.

  Scarcely had the Abbey Bell tolled for five minutes,and already

  was the Church of the Capuchins thronged with Auditors. Do not

  encourage the idea that the Crowd was assembled either from

  motives of piety or thirst of information. But very few were

  influenced by those reasons; and in a city where superstition

  reigns with such despotic sway as in Madrid, to seek for true

  devotion would be a fruitless attempt. The Audience now

  assembled in the Capuchin Church was collected by various causes,

  but all of them were foreign to the ostensible motive. The Women

  came to show themselves, the Men to see the Women: Some were

  attracted by curiosity to hear an Orator so celebrated; Some came

  because they had no better means of employing their time till the

  play began; Some, from being assured that it would be impossible

  to find places in the Church; and one half of Madrid was brought

  thither by expecting to meet the other half. The only persons

  truly anxious to hear the Preacher were a few antiquated

  devotees, and half a dozen rival Orators, determined to find

  fault with and ridicule the discourse. As to the remainder of

  the Audience, the Sermon might have been omitted altogether,

  certainly without their being disappointed, and very probably

  without their perceiving the omission.

  Whatever was the occasion, it is at least certain that the

  Capuchin Church had never witnessed a more numerous assembly.

  Every corner was filled, every seat was occupied. The very

  Statues which ornamented the long aisles were pressed into the

  service. Boys suspended themselves upon the wings of Cherubims;

  St. Francis and St. Mark bore each a spectator on his shoulders;

  and St. Agatha found herself under the necessity of carrying

  double. The consequence was, that in spite of all their hurry

  and expedition, our two newcomers, on entering the Church, looked

  round in vain for places.

  However, the old Woman continued to move forwards. In vain were

  exclamations of displeasure vented against her from all sides:

  In vain was She addressed with--'I assure you, Segnora, there are

  no places here.'-- 'I beg, Segnora, that you will not crowd me so

  intolerably!'--'Segnora, you cannot pass this way. Bless me!

  How can people be so troublesome!'--The old Woman was obstinate,

  and on She went. By dint of perseverance and two brawny arms She

  made a passage through the Crowd, and managed to bustle herself

  into the very body of the Church, at no great distance from the

  Pulpit. Her companion had followed her with timidity and in

  silence, profiting by the exertions of her conductress.

  'Holy Virgin!' exclaimed the old Woman in a tone of

  disappointment, while She threw a glance of enquiry round her;

  'Holy Virgin! What heat! What a Crowd! I wonder what can be the
/>   meaning of all this. I believe we must return: There is no such

  thing as a seat to be had, and nobody seems kind enough to

  accommodate us with theirs.'

  This broad hint attracted the notice of two Cavaliers, who

  occupied stools on the right hand, and were leaning their backs

  against the seventh column from the Pulpit. Both were young, and

  richly habited. Hearing this appeal to their politeness

  pronounced in a female voice, they interrupted their conversation

  to look at the speaker. She had thrown up her veil in order to

  take a clearer look round the Cathedral. Her hair was red, and

  She squinted. The Cavaliers turned round, and renewed their

  conversation.

  'By all means,' replied the old Woman's companion; 'By all means,

  Leonella, let us return home immediately; The heat is excessive,

  and I am terrified at such a crowd.'

  These words were pronounced in a tone of unexampled sweetness.

  The Cavaliers again broke off their discourse, but for this time

  they were not contented with looking up: Both started

  involuntarily from their seats, and turned themselves towards the

  Speaker.

  The voice came from a female, the delicacy and elegance of whose

  figure inspired the Youths with the most lively curiosity to view

  the face to which it belonged. This satisfaction was denied

  them. Her features were hidden by a thick veil; But struggling

  through the crowd had deranged it sufficiently to discover a neck

  which for symmetry and beauty might have vied with the Medicean

  Venus. It was of the most dazzling whiteness, and received

  additional charms from being shaded by the tresses of her long

  fair hair, which descended in ringlets to her waist. Her figure

  was rather below than above the middle size: It was light and

  airy as that of an Hamadryad. Her bosom was carefully veiled.

  Her dress was white; it was fastened by a blue sash, and just

  permitted to peep out from under it a little foot of the most

  delicate proportions. A chaplet of large grains hung upon her

  arm, and her face was covered with a veil of thick black gauze.

  Such was the female, to whom the youngest of the Cavaliers now

  offered his seat, while the other thought it necessary to pay the

  same attention to her companion.

  The old Lady with many expressions of gratitude, but without much

  difficulty, accepted the offer, and seated herself: The young

  one followed her example, but made no other compliment than a

  simple and graceful reverence. Don Lorenzo (such was the

  Cavalier's name, whose seat She had accepted) placed himself near

  her; But first He whispered a few words in his Friend's ear, who

  immediately took the hint, and endeavoured to draw off the old

  Woman's attention from her lovely charge.

  'You are doubtless lately arrived at Madrid,' said Lorenzo to his

  fair Neighbour; 'It is impossible that such charms should have

  long remained unobserved; and had not this been your first public

  appearance, the envy of the Women and adoration of the Men would

  have rendered you already sufficiently remarkable.'

  He paused, in expectation of an answer. As his speech did not

  absolutely require one, the Lady did not open her lips: After a

  few moments He resumed his discourse:

  'Am I wrong in supposing you to be a Stranger to Madrid?'

  The Lady hesitated; and at last, in so low a voice as to be

  scarcely intelligible, She made shift to answer,-- 'No, Segnor.'

  'Do you intend making a stay of any length?'

  'Yes, Segnor.'

  'I should esteem myself fortunate, were it in my power to

  contribute to making your abode agreeable. I am well known at

  Madrid, and my Family has some interest at Court. If I can be of

  any service, you cannot honour or oblige me more than by

  permitting me to be of use to you.'--'Surely,' said He to

  himself, 'She cannot answer that by a monosyllable; now She must

  say something to me.'

  Lorenzo was deceived, for the Lady answered only by a bow.

  By this time He had discovered that his Neighbour was not very

  conversible; But whether her silence proceeded from pride,

  discretion, timidity, or idiotism, He was still unable to decide.

  After a pause of some minutes--'It is certainly from your being a

  Stranger,' said He, 'and as yet unacquainted with our customs,

  that you continue to wear your veil. Permit me to remove it.'

  At the same time He advanced his hand towards the Gauze: The

  Lady raised hers to prevent him.

  'I never unveil in public, Segnor.'

  'And where is the harm, I pray you?' interrupted her Companion

  somewhat sharply; 'Do not you see that the other Ladies have all

  laid their veils aside, to do honour no doubt to the holy place

  in which we are? I have taken off mine already; and surely if I

  expose my features to general observation, you have no cause to

  put yourself in such a wonderful alarm! Blessed Maria! Here is a

  fuss and a bustle about a chit's face! Come, come, Child!

  Uncover it; I warrant you that nobody will run away with it from

  you--'

  'Dear aunt, it is not the custom in Murcia.'

  'Murcia, indeed! Holy St. Barbara, what does that signify? You

  are always putting me in mind of that villainous Province. If it

  is the custom in Madrid, that is all that we ought to mind, and

  therefore I desire you to take off your veil immediately. Obey

  me this moment Antonia, for you know that I cannot bear

  contradiction--'

  Her niece was silent, but made no further opposition to Don

  Lorenzo's efforts, who, armed with the Aunt's sanction hastened

  to remove the Gauze. What a Seraph's head presented itself to

  his admiration! Yet it was rather bewitching than beautiful; It

  wasnot so lovely from regularity of features as from sweetness

  and sensibility of Countenance. The several parts of her face

  considered separately, many of them were far from handsome; but

  when examined together, the whole was adorable. Her skin though

  fair was not entirely without freckles; Her eyes were not very

  large, nor their lashes particularly long. But then her lips

  were of the most rosy freshness; Her fair and undulating hair,

  confined by a simple ribband, poured itself below her waist in a

  profusion of ringlets; Her throat was full and beautiful in the

  extreme; Her hand and arm were formed with the most perfect

  symmetry; Her mild blue eyes seemed an heaven of sweetness, and

  the crystal in which they moved sparkled with all the brilliance

  of Diamonds: She appeared to be scarcely fifteen; An arch smile,

  playing round her mouth, declared her to be possessed of

  liveliness, which excess of timidity at present represt; She

  looked round her with a bashful glance; and whenever her eyes

  accidentally met Lorenzo's, She dropt them hastily upon her

  Rosary; Her cheek was immediately suffused with blushes, and She

  began to tell her beads; though her manner evidently showed that

  She knew not what She was about.

  Lorenzo gazed upon her with mingled surprise and admiration; but
<
br />   the Aunt thought it necessary to apologize for Antonia's

  mauvaise honte.

  ' 'Tis a young Creature,' said She, 'who is totally ignorant of

  the world. She has been brought up in an old Castle in Murcia;

  with no other Society than her Mother's, who, God help her! has

  no more sense, good Soul, than is necessary to carry her Soup to

  her mouth. Yet She is my own Sister, both by Father and Mother.'

  'And has so little sense?' said Don Christoval with feigned

  astonishment; 'How very Extraordinary!'

  'Very true, Segnor; Is it not strange? However, such is the

  fact; and yet only to see the luck of some people! A young

  Nobleman, of the very first quality, took it into his head that

  Elvira had some pretensions to Beauty--As to pretensions, in

  truth, She had always enough of THEM; But as to Beauty. . . .!

  If I had only taken half the pains to set myself off which She

  did. . . .! But this is neither here nor there. As I was

  saying, Segnor, a young Nobleman fell in love with her, and

  married her unknown to his Father. Their union remained a secret

  near three years, But at last it came to the ears of the old

  Marquis, who, as you may well suppose, was not much pleased with

  the intelligence. Away He posted in all haste to Cordova,

  determined to seize Elvira, and send her away to some place or

  other, where She would never be heard of more. Holy St. Paul!

  How He stormed on finding that She had escaped him, had joined

  her Husband, and that they had embarked together for the Indies.

  He swore at us all, as if the Evil Spirit had possessed him; He

  threw my Father into prison, as honest a painstaking Shoe-maker

  as any in Cordova; and when He went away, He had the cruelty to

  take from us my Sister's little Boy, then scarcely two years old,

  and whom in the abruptness of her flight, She had been obliged to

  leave behind her. I suppose, that the poor little Wretch met

  with bitter bad treatment from him, for in a few months after, we

  received intelligence of his death.'

  'Why, this was a most terrible old Fellow, Segnora!'

  'Oh! shocking! and a Man so totally devoid of taste! Why, would

  you believe it, Segnor? When I attempted to pacify him, He

  cursed me for a Witch, and wished that to punish the Count, my

  Sister might become as ugly as myself! Ugly indeed! I like him

  for that.'

  'Ridiculous', cried Don Christoval; 'Doubtless the Count would