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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,
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.
he is reported to be so strict an observer of chastity, that he knows not in what consists the difference of man and woman. The common people therefore esteem him to be a saint.” “Does that make a saint?” enquired Antonia. “Bless me! then am I one.”
“You are young, and just entering into life,” said he: “your heart, new to the world, and full of warmth and sensibility, receives its first impressions with eagerness. Artless yourself, you suspect not others of deceit; and viewing the world through the medium of your own truth and innocence, you fancy all who surround you to deserve your confidence and esteem. What pity, that these gay visions must soon be dissipated! What pity, that you must soon discover the baseness of mankind, and guard against your fellow-creatures as against your foes!”
The trial is dangerous; he is just at that period of life when the passions are most vigorous, unbridled, and despotic; his established reputation will mark him out to seduction as an illustrious victim; novelty will give additional charms to the allurements of pleasure; and even the talents with which nature has endowed him will contribute to his ruin, by facilitating the means of obtaining his object. Very few would return victorious from a contest so severe.”
Were he my confessor, I should never have the courage to avow one half of my peccadilloes, and then I should be in a rare condition! I never saw such a stern-looking mortal, and hope that I never shall see such another. His description of the devil, God bless us! almost terrified me out of my wits, and when he spoke about sinners he seemed as if he was ready to eat them.”
“Accept my hand? As I hope to live and breathe——” “Oh! dear Segnor, press me no further if you love me! I shall consider your obedience as a proof of your affection;
To favour your designs upon Antonia, I obligingly make a few civil speeches which mean nothing to the aunt, and at the end of an hour I find myself upon the brink of matrimony!
in truth she seems possessed of every quality requisite to make me happy in a wife—young, lovely, gentle, sensible——” “Sensible? Why, she said nothing but Yes, and No.” “She did not say much more, I must confess—but then she always said Yes or No in the right place.”
“I have received my death,” he replied in a faint voice: “concealed among the roses—a serpent—”
a chin, in whose dimples seemed to lurk a thousand Cupids.
Ambrosio was yet to learn, that to an heart unacquainted with her, vice is ever most dangerous when lurking behind the mask of virtue.
“Ambrosio, it must not be. When I thought thus, I deceived both you and myself: either I must die at present, or expire by the lingering torments of unsatisfied desire.
I am convinced with every moment that I have but one alternative; I feel with every heart throb, that I must enjoy you or die.”
Matilda and the long con
Drunk with desire, he pressed his lips to those which sought them; his kisses vied with Matilda’s in warmth and passion: he clasped her rapturously in his arms; he forgot his vows, his sanctity, and his fame; he remembered nothing but the pleasure and opportunity.
as the clock strikes ‘one,’ I shall quit my chamber, dressed in the same apparel as the ghost is supposed to wear. Whoever meets me will be too much terrified to oppose my escape:
she got drunk regularly once a-day, just by way of passing the time.
“Beatrice de las Cisternas took the veil at an early age, not by her own choice, but at the express command of her parents. She was then too young to regret the pleasures of which her profession deprived her: but no sooner did her warm and voluptuous character begin to be developed, than she abandoned herself freely to the impulse of her passions, and seized the first opportunity to procure their gratification.
Not satisfied with displaying the incontinence of a prostitute, she professed herself an atheist: she took every opportunity to scoff at her monastic vows, and loaded with ridicule the most sacred ceremonies of religion.
An author, whether good or bad, or between both, is an animal whom every body is privileged to attack: for though all are not able to write books, all conceive themselves able to judge them. A bad composition carries with it its own punishment—contempt and ridicule. A good one excites envy, and entails upon its author a thousand mortifications:
Authorship is a mania, to conquer which no reasons are sufficiently strong; and you might as easily persuade me not to love, as I persuade you not to write.
What have you lost which I preserved? Have I not shared in your guilt? Have you not shared in my pleasure?
Matilda now asked, who was this Agnes with whom the prioress was thus incensed, and what connexion she could have with Ambrosio. He related her adventure; and he added, that since that time his ideas having undergone a thorough revolution, he now felt much compassion for the unfortunate nun.
Lol
she is unworthy to enjoy love’s pleasures, who has not wit enough to conceal them.
Savage
he could not reflect without surprise on the sudden change in Matilda’s character and sentiments. But a few days had passed, since she appeared the mildest and softest of her sex, devoted to his will, and looking up to him as to a superior being. Now she assumed a sort of courage and manliness in her manners and discourse, but ill calculated to please him. She spoke no longer to insinuate, but command: he found himself unable to cope with her in argument, and was unwillingly obliged to confess the superiority of her judgment.
He regretted Rosario, the fond, the gentle, and submissive;
Pity is a sentiment so natural, so appropriate to the female character, that it is scarcely a merit for a woman to possess it, but to be without it is a grievous crime.
Frequent repetitions made him familiar with sin,
Unfortunate Matilda! her paramour forgot, that for his sake alone she had forfeited her claim to virtue; and his only reason for despising her was, that she had loved him much too well.
Had Leonella been at home, she would have recognized him directly. Her communicative disposition would never have permitted her to rest, till all Madrid was informed that Ambrosio had ventured out of the abbey, and visited her sister.
Not so Antonia—she thought the world was composed only of those who resembled her, and that vice existed was to her still a secret.
he overpowered her with a torrent of philosophical paradoxes, to which, not understanding them, it was impossible for her to reply; and thus, though he did not convince her that his reasoning was just, he at least prevented her from discovering it to be false.
gentle violence
’Tis not the crime which holds your hand, but the punishment; ’tis not respect for God which restrains you, but the terror of his vengeance!
Lucifer, whom I summoned to my assistance,
A death-like slumber will immediately seize upon her, and deprive her of the power of resisting your attempts. Sleep will hold her till break of morning. In this state you may satisfy your desires without danger of being discovered; since, when daylight shall dispel the effects of the enchantment, Antonia will perceive her dishonour, but be ignorant of the ravisher.
Roofied
“In Denmark, say you?” mumbled an old nun: “Are not the people all blacks in Denmark?” “By no means, reverend lady; they are of a delicate pea-green, with flame-coloured hair and whiskers.”
either Elvira or himself must have perished; and that her inflexibility and resolution to ruin him had deservedly marked her out for the victim.
The cause of Elvira’s death remaining unknown, he was convinced that crimes were not so swiftly followed by punishment as his instructors the monks had taught him, and as till then he had himself believed. This persuasion made him resolve upon Antonia’s ruin, for the enjoyment of whose person dangers and difficulties only seemed to have increased his passion.
Though she be a ghost, she might be more civil than to bolt into a person’s house who likes her company so little.
Ambrosio, I live but to serve you; your interest and happiness are equally mine. Be your person Antonia’s, but to your friendship and your heart I still assert my claim. Contributing to yours, forms now my only pleasure.
snoaring most lustily.
Mine is the task to rend the veil from hypocrisy, and shew misguided parents to what dangers the woman is exposed, who falls under the sway of a monastic tyrant.
“Excuse me,” replied Lorenzo, “if I am surprised, that while menaced by real woes you are capable of yielding to imaginary dangers.
She, who so lately had been the object of his adoration, now raised no other sentiment in his heart than aversion and rage.
That motherfucker
And ’tis you who will accuse me! ’tis you who will cause my eternal anguish!—you, wretched girl! you! you!”
What was the alternative? A resolution far more terrible for Antonia, but which at least would insure the abbot’s safety.
She told him, that had she still been undefiled she might have lamented the loss of life; but that, deprived of honour and branded with shame, death was to her a blessing:
Was this meant to be a happy emding for her
“men have died, and worms have ate them, but not for love!”
That Antonia whom you violated, was your sister! that Elvira whom you murdered, gave you birth!
