suspicion of the Monk's having dealt in Magic： It was even
supposed that his former influence over the minds of the People
was entirely to be ascribed to witchcraft。
Determined to make him confess not only the crimes which He had
committed； but those also of which He was innocent； the
Inquisitors began their examination。 Though dreading the
tortures； as He dreaded death still more which would consign him
to eternal torments； the Abbot asserted his purity in a voice
bold and resolute。 Matilda followed his example； but spoke with
fear and trembling。 Having in vain exhorted him to confess； the
Inquisitors ordered the Monk to be put to the question。 The
Decree was immediately executed。 Ambrosio suffered the most
excruciating pangs that ever were invented by human cruelty：
Yet so dreadful is Death when guilt accompanies it； that He had
sufficient fortitude to persist in his disavowal。 His agonies
were redoubled in consequence： Nor was He released till fainting
from excess of pain； insensibility rescued him from the hands of
his Tormentors。
Matilda was next ordered to the torture： But terrified by the
sight of the Friar's sufferings； her courage totally deserted
her。 She sank upon her knees； acknowledged her corresponding
with infernal Spirits； and that She had witnessed the Monk's
assassination of Antonia： But as to the crime of Sorcery； She
declared herself the sole criminal； and Ambrosio perfectly
innocent。 The latter assertion met with no credit。 The Abbot
had recovered his senses in time to hear the confession of his
Accomplice： But He was too much enfeebled by what He had already
undergone to be capable at that time of sustaining new torments。
He was commanded back to his Cell； but first informed that as
soon as He had gained strength sufficient； He must prepare
himself for a second examination。 The Inquisitors hoped that He
would then be less hardened and obstinate。 To Matilda it was
announced that She must expiate her crime in fire on the
approaching Auto da Fe。 All her tears and entreaties could
procure no mitigation of her doom； and She was dragged by force
from the Hall of Trial。
Returned to his dungeon； the sufferings of Ambrosio's body were
far more supportable than those of his mind。 His dislocated
limbs； the nails torn from his hands and feet； and his fingers
mashed and broken by the pressure of screws； were far surpassed
in anguish by the agitation of his soul and vehemence of his
terrors。 He saw that； guilty or innocent； his Judges were bent
upon condemning him： The remembrance of what his denial had
already cost him terrified him at the idea of being again
applied to the question； and almost engaged him to confess his
crimes。 Then again the consequences of his confession flashed
before him； and rendered him once more irresolute。 His death
would be inevitable； and that a death the most dreadful： He had
listened to Matilda's doom； and doubted not that a similar was
reserved for him。 He shuddered at the approaching Auto da Fe； at
the idea of perishing in flames； and only escaping from indurable
torments to pass into others more subtile and ever…lasting！ With
affright did He bend his mind's eye on the space beyond the
grave； nor could hide from himself how justly he ought to dread
Heaven's vengeance。 In this Labyrinth of terrors； fain would He
have taken his refuge in the gloom of Atheism： Fain would He
have denied the soul's immortality； have persuaded himself that
when his eyes once closed； they would never more open； and that
the same moment would annihilate his soul and body。 Even this
resource was refused to him。 To permit his being blind to the
fallacy of this belief； his knowledge was too extensive； his
understanding too solid and just。 He could not help feeling the
existence of a God。 Those truths； once his comfort； now
presented themselves before him in the clearest light； But they
only served to drive him to distraction。 They destroyed his
ill…grounded hopes of escaping punishment； and dispelled by the
irresistible brightness of Truth and convinction； Philosophy's
deceitful vapours faded away like a dream。
In anguish almost too great for mortal frame to bear； He expected
the time when He was again to be examined。 He busied himself in
planning ineffectual schemes for escaping both present and future
punishment。 Of the first there was no possibility； Of the second
Despair made him neglect the only means。 While Reason forced him
to acknowledge a God's existence； Conscience made him doubt the
infinity of his goodness。 He disbelieved that a Sinner like him
could find mercy。 He had not been deceived into error：
Ignorance could furnish him with no excuse。 He had seen vice in
her true colours； Before He committed his crimes； He had computed
every scruple of their weight； and yet he had committed them。
'Pardon？' He would cry in an access of phrenzy 'Oh！ there can be
none for me！'
Persuaded of this； instead of humbling himself in penitence； of
deploring his guilt； and employing his few remaining hours in
deprecating Heaven's wrath； He abandoned himself to the
transports of desperate rage； He sorrowed for the punishment of
his crimes； not their commission； and exhaled his bosom's anguish
in idle sighs； in vain lamentations； in blasphemy and despair。
As the few beams of day which pierced through the bars of his
prison window gradually disappeared； and their place was
supplied by the pale and glimmering Lamp； He felt his terrors
redouble； and his ideas become more gloomy； more solemn； more
despondent。 He dreaded the approach of sleep： No sooner did his
eyes close； wearied with tears and watching； than the dreadful
visions seemed to be realised on which his mind had dwelt during
the day。 He found himself in sulphurous realms and burning
Caverns； surrounded by Fiends appointed his Tormentors； and who
drove him through a variety of tortures； each of which was more
dreadful than the former。 Amidst these dismal scenes wandered
the Ghosts of Elvira and her Daughter。 They reproached him with
their deaths； recounted his crimes to the Daemons； and urged them
to inflict torments of cruelty yet more refined。 Such were the
pictures which floated before his eyes in sleep： They vanished
not till his repose was disturbed by excess of agony。 Then would
He start from the ground on which He had stretched himself； his
brows running down with cold sweat； his eyes wild and phrenzied；
and He only exchanged the terrible certainty for surmizes
scarcely more supportable。 He paced his dungeon with disordered
steps； He gazed with terror upon the surrounding darkness； and
often did He cry；
'Oh！ fearful is night to the Guilty！'
The day of his second examination was at hand。 He had been
compelled to swallow cordials； whose virtues were calculated to
restore his bodily strength； and enable him to support the
question longer。 On the night preceding this dreaded day； his
fears for the morrow permitted him not to sleep。 His terrors
were so violent； as nearly to annihilate his mental powers。 He
sat like one stupefied near the Table on which his Lamp was
burning dimly。 Despair chained up his faculties in Idiotism； and
He remained for some hours； unable to speak or move； or indeed to
think。
'Look up； Ambrosio！' said a Voice in accents well…known to him
The Monk started； and raised his melancholy eyes。 Matilda stood
before him。 She had quitted her religious habit。 She now wore a
female dress； at once elegant and splendid： A profusion of
diamonds blazed upon her robes； and her hair was confined by a
coronet of Roses。 In her right hand She held a small Book： A
lively expression of pleasure beamed upon her countenance； But
still it was mingled with a wild imperious majesty which
inspired the Monk with awe； and represt in some measure his
transports at seeing her。
'You here； Matilda？' He at length exclaimed； 'How have you gained
entrance？ Where are your Chains？ What means this magnificence；
and the joy which sparkles in your eyes？ Have our Judges
relented？ Is there a chance of my escaping？ Answer me for pity；
and tell me； what I have to hope； or fear。'
'Ambrosio！' She replied with an air of commanding dignity； 'I
have baffled the Inquisition's fury。 I am free： A few moments
will place kingdoms between these dungeons and me。 Yet I
purchase my liberty at a dear； at a dreadful price！ Dare you pay
the same； Ambrosio？ Dare you spring without fear over the
bounds which separate Men from Angels？You are silent。You
look upon me with eyes of suspicion and alarmI read your
thoughts and confess their justice。 Yes； Ambrosio ； I have
sacrificed all for life and liberty。 I am no longer a candidate
for heaven！ I have renounced God's service； and am enlisted
beneath the banners of his Foes。 The deed is past recall： Yet
were it in my power to go back； I would not。 Oh！ my Friend； to
expire in such torments！ To die amidst curses and execrations！
To bear the insults of an exasperated Mob！ To be exposed to all
the mortifications of shame and infamy！ Who can reflect without
horror on such a doom？ Let me then exult in my exchange。 I have
sold distant