The Monk - Matthew Gregory Lewis [18]
THE GIPSY.
“Jesus! what a palm is there!
Chaste, and gentle, young and fair,
Perfect mind and form possessing,
You would be some good man’s blessing:
But, alas! this line discovers
That destruction o’er you hovers;
Lustful man and crafty devil
Will combine to work your evil;
And from earth by sorrows driven,
Soon your soul must speed to heaven.
Yet your sufferings to delay,
Well remember what I say.
When you one more virtuous see
Than belongs to man to be,
One, whose self no crimes assailing,
Pities not his neighbour’s failing,
Call the gipsy’s words to mind:
Though he seem so good and kind,
Fair exteriors oft will hide
Hearts that swell with lust and pride.
Lovely maid, with tears I leave you.
Let not my prediction grieve you:
Rather, with submission bending,
Calmly wait distress impending,
And expect eternal bliss
In a better world than this.
Having said this, the gipsy again whirled herself round thrice, and then hastened out of the street with frantic gesture. The crowd followed her; and Elvira’s door being now unembarrassed, Leonella entered the house, out of humour with the gipsy, with her niece, and with the people; in short, with every body but herself and her charming cavalier. The gipsy’s predictions had also considerably affected Antonia; but the impression soon wore off, and in a few hours she had forgotten the adventure, as totally as had it never taken place.
CHAP. II.
Fòrse sé tu gustassi una sòl volta,
La millésima parte délle giòje,
Ché gusta un còr amato riamando,
Diresti ripentita sospirando,
Perduto è tutto il tempo
Ché in amar non si spènde.
TASSO.
Hadst thou but tasted once the thousandth part
Of joys, which bless the loved and loving heart,
Your words repentant and your sighs would prove,
Lost is the time which is not past in love.
The monks having attended their abbot to the door of his cell, he dismissed them with an air of conscious superiority, in which humility’s semblance combated with the reality of pride.
He was no sooner alone, than he gave free loose to the indulgence of his vanity. When he remembered the enthusiasm which his discourse had excited, his heart swelled with rapture, and his imagination presented him with splendid visions of aggrandizement. He looked round him with exultation; and pride told him loudly, that he was superior to the rest of his fellow-creatures.
“Who,” thought he, “who but myself has passed the ordeal of youth, yet sees no single stain upon his conscience? Who else has subdued the violence of strong passions and an impetuous temperament, and submitted even from the dawn of life to voluntary retirement? I seek for such a man in vain. I see no one but myself possessed of such resolution. Religion cannot boast Ambrosio’s equal! How powerful an effect did my discourse produce upon its auditors! How they crowded round me! How they loaded me with benedictions, and pronounced me the sole uncorrupted pillar of the church! What then now is left for me to do? Nothing, but to watch as carefully over the conduct of my brethren, as I have hitherto watched over my own. Yet hold! May I not be tempted from those paths, which till now I have pursued without one moment’s wandering? Am I not a man, whose nature is frail and prone to error? I must now abandon the solitude of my retreat; the fairest and noblest dames of Madrid continually present themselves at the abbey, and will use no other confessor. I must accustom my eyes to objects of temptation, and expose myself to the seduction of luxury and desire. Should I meet in that world which I am constrained to enter, some lovely female—lovely as you—Madona—!”
As he said this, he fixed his eyes upon a picture of the Virgin, which was suspended opposite to him: this for two years had been the object of his increasing wonder and adoration. He paused, and gazed upon it with delight.
“What beauty in that countenance!