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As She kissed her； She felt an unusual despondency infuse itself
into her bosom。 She left her； and returned to her instantly；
threw herself into her maternal arms； and bathed her cheek with
tears： She felt uneasy at quitting her； and a secret
presentiment assured her that never must they meet again。 Elvira
observed； and tried to laugh her out of this childish prejudice：
She chid her mildly for encouraging such ungrounded sadness； and
warned her how dangerous it was to encourage such ideas。
To all her remonstrances She received no other answer than；
'Mother！ Dear Mother！ Oh！ would to God； it were Morning！'
Elvira； whose inquietude respecting her Daughter was a great
obstacle to her perfect reestablishment； was still labouring
under the effects of her late severe illness。 She was this
Evening more than usually indisposed； and retired to bed before
her accustomed hour。 Antonia withdrew from her Mother's chamber
with regret； and till the Door closed； kept her eyes fixed upon
her with melancholy expression。 She retired to her own
apartment； Her heart was filled with bitterness： It seemed to
her that all her prospects were blasted； and the world contained
nothing for which it was worth existing。 She sank into a Chair；
reclined her head upon her arm； and gazed upon the floor with a
vacant stare； while the most gloomy images floated before her
fancy。 She was still in this state of insensibility when She
was disturbed by hearing a strain of soft Music breathed beneath
her window。 She rose； drew near the Casement； and opened it to
hear it more distinctly。 Having thrown her veil over her face；
She ventured to look out。 By the light of the Moon She perceived
several Men below with Guitars and Lutes in their hands； and at a
little distance from them stood Another wrapped in his cloak；
whose stature and appearance bore a strong resemblance to
Lorenzo's。 She was not deceived in this conjecture。 It was
indeed Lorenzo himself； who bound by his word not to present
himself to Antonia without his Uncle's consent； endeavoured by
occasional Serenades； to convince his Mistress that his
attachment still existed。 His stratagem had not the desired
effect。 Antonia was far from supposing that this nightly music
was intended as a compliment to her： She was too modest to think
herself worthy such attentions； and concluding them to be
addressed to some neighbouring Lady； She grieved to find that
they were offered by Lorenzo。
The air which was played； was plaintive and melodious。 It
accorded with the state of Antonia's mind； and She listened with
pleasure。 After a symphony of some length； it was succeeded by
the sound of voices； and Antonia distinguished the following
words。
SERENADE
Chorus
Oh！ Breathe in gentle strain； my Lyre！
'Tis here that Beauty loves to rest：
Describe the pangs of fond desire；
Which rend a faithful Lover's breast。
Song
In every heart to find a Slave；
In every Soul to fix his reign；
In bonds to lead the wise and brave；
And make the Captives kiss his chain；
Such is the power of Love； and Oh！
I grieve so well Love's power to know。
In sighs to pass the live…long day；
To taste a short and broken sleep；
For one dear Object far away；
All others scorned； to watch and weep；
Such are the pains of Love； and Oh！
I grieve so well Love's pains to know！
To read consent in virgin eyes；
To press the lip ne'er prest till then
To hear the sigh of transport rise；
And kiss； and kiss； and kiss again；
Such are thy pleasures； Love； But Oh！
When shall my heart thy pleasures know？
Chorus
Now hush； my Lyre！ My voice be still！
Sleep； gentle Maid！ May fond desire
With amorous thoughts thy visions fill；
Though still my voice； and hushed my Lyre。
The Music ceased： The Performers dispersed； and silence
prevailed through the Street。 Antonia quitted the window with
regret： She as usual recommended herself to the protection of
St。 Rosolia； said her accustomed prayers； and retired to bed。
Sleep was not long absent； and his presence relieved her from her
terrors and inquietude
It was almost two o'clock before the lustful Monk ventured to
bend his steps towards Antonia's dwelling。 It has been already
mentioned that the Abbey was at no great distance from the
Strada di San Iago。 He reached the House unobserved。 Here He
stopped； and hesitated for a moment。 He reflected on the
enormity of the crime； the consequences of a discovery； and the
probability； after what had passed； of Elvira's suspecting him to
be her Daughter's Ravisher： On the other hand it was suggested
that She could do no more than suspect； that no proofs of his
guilt could be produced； that it would seem impossible for the
rape to have been committed without Antonia's knowing when；
where； or by whom； and finally； He believed that his fame was too
firmly established to be shaken by the unsupported accusations of
two unknown Women。 This latter argument was perfectly false： He
knew not how uncertain is the air of popular applause； and that a
moment suffices to make him today the detestation of the world；
who yesterday was its Idol。 The result of the Monk's
deliberations was that He should proceed in his enterprize。 He
ascended the steps leading to the House。 No sooner did He touch
the door with the silver Myrtle； than it flew open； and presented
him with a free passage。 He entered； and the door closed after
him of its own accord。
Guided by the moonbeams； He proceeded up the Staircase with
slow and cautious steps。 He looked round him every moment with
apprehension and anxiety。 He saw a Spy in every shadow； and
heard a voice in every murmur of the night breeze。 Consciousness
of the guilty business on which He was employed appalled his
heart； and rendered it more timid than a Woman's。 Yet still He
proceeded。 He reached the door of Antonia's chamber。 He stopped；
and listened。 All was hushed within。 The total silence
persuaded him that his intended Victim was retired to rest； and
He ventured to lift up the Latch。 The door was fastened； and
resisted his efforts： But no sooner was it touched by the
Talisman； than the Bolt flew back。 The Ravisher stept on； and
found himself in the chamber； where slept the innocent Girl；
unconscious how dangerous a Visitor was drawing near her Couch。
The door closed after him； and the Bolt shot again into its
fastening。
Ambrosio advanced with precaution。 He took care that not a board
should creak under his foot； and held in his breath as He
approached the Bed。 His first attention was to perform the magic
ceremony； as Matilda had charged him： He breathed thrice upon
the silver Myrtle； pronounced over it Antonia's name； and laid it
upon her pillow。 The effects which it had already produced
permitted not his doubting its success in prolonging the slumbers
of his devoted Mistress。 No sooner was the enchantment
performed than He considered her to be absolutely in his power；
and his eyes flamed with lust and impatience。 He now ventured to
cast a glance upon the sleeping Beauty。 A single Lamp； burning
before the Statue of St。