The Monk Lewis, Matthew

The Monk Lewis, Matthew

Published: 1796 Categorie(s): Fiction, Romance, Gothic Source: http://www.gutenberg.org

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About Lewis: Matthew Gregory Lewis (July 9, 1775 – May 14, 1818) was an

English novelist and dramatist, often referred to as “Monk” Lewis, because of the success of his Gothic novel, The Monk. Source: Wikipedia

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Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas, Nocturnos lemures, portentaque. Horat.

Dreams, magic terrors, spells of mighty power, Witches, and ghosts who rove at midnight hour.

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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 For- tune 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 approv- ing; 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 treach- erous 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!

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Hague, Oct. 28, 1794. M. G. L. ADVERTISEMENT The first idea of this Romance was sug-

gested 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 ori- ginal Danish Ballad—And Belerma and Durandarte is trans- lated from some stanzas to be found in a collection of old Span- ish 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.

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Part 1

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Chapter 1 ——Lord Angelo is precise; Stands at a guard with envy; Scarce confesses That his blood flows, or that his appet- ite 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 Audit- ors. 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 su- perstition 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 vari- ous 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 Orat- or 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 expect- ing 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 be- ing 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 as- sembly. 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

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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 per- severance 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 compan- ion 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 disap- pointment, 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 oc- cupied 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 pro- nounced 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.

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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 compli- ment 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?’

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‘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 him- self, ‘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 be- ing a Stranger,’ said He, ‘and as yet unacquainted with our customs, that you continue to wear your veil. Permit me to re- move 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 Com-

panion 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 presen- ted itself to his admiration! Yet it was rather bewitching than

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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 particu- larly 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 admira- tion; but 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 as- tonishment; ‘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

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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, determ- ined 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 In- dies. 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 have thought himself fortunate, had he been permitted to exchange the one Sister for the other.’