flashed　around　him；　and　the　Thunder　with　repeated　bursts；　seemed
  to　announce　the　dissolution　of　Nature。
  Terrified　at　an　Apparition　so　different　from　what　He　had
  expected；　Ambrosio　remained　gazing　upon　the　Fiend；　deprived　of
  the　power　of　utterance。　　The　Thunder　had　ceased　to　roll：
  Universal　silence　reigned　through　the　dungeon。
  'For　what　am　I　summoned　hither？'　said　the　Daemon；　in　a　voice
  which　sulphurous　fogs　had　damped　to　hoarseness
  At　the　sound　Nature　seemed　to　tremble：　　A　violent　earthquake
  rocked　the　ground；　accompanied　by　a　fresh　burst　of　Thunder；
  louder　and　more　appalling　than　the　first。
  Ambrosio　was　long　unable　to　answer　the　Daemon's　demand。
  'I　am　condemned　to　die；'　He　said　with　a　faint　voice；　his　blood
  running　cold；　while　He　gazed　upon　his　dreadful　Visitor。　　'Save
  me！　　Bear　me　from　hence！'
  'Shall　the　reward　of　my　services　be　paid　me？　　Dare　you　embrace　my
  cause？　　Will　you　be　mine；　body　and　soul？　　Are　you　prepared　to
  renounce　him　who　made　you；　and　him　who　died　for　you？　　Answer　but
  ''Yes''　and　Lucifer　is　your　Slave。'
  'Will　no　less　price　content　you？　　Can　nothing　satisfy　you　but　my
  eternal　ruin？　　Spirit；　you　ask　too　much。　　Yet　convey　me　from　this
  dungeon：　　Be　my　Servant　for　one　hour；　and　I　will　be　yours　for　a
  thousand　years。　　Will　not　this　offer　suffice？'
  'It　will　not。　　I　must　have　your　soul；　must　have　it　mine；　and　mine
  for　ever。'
  'Insatiate　Daemon；　I　will　not　doom　myself　to　endless　torments。　　I
  will　not　give　up　my　hopes　of　being　one　day　pardoned。'
  'You　will　not？　　On　what　Chimaera　rest　then　your　hopes？
  Short…sighted　Mortal！　　Miserable　Wretch！　　Are　you　not　guilty？
  Are　you　not　infamous　in　the　eyes　of　Men　and　Angels。　　Can　such
  enormous　sins　be　forgiven？　　Hope　you　to　escape　my　power？　　Your
  fate　is　already　pronounced。　The　Eternal　has　abandoned　you；　Mine
  you　are　marked　in　the　book　of　destiny；　and　mine　you　must　and
  shall　be！'
  'Fiend；　'tis　false！　　Infinite　is　the　Almighty's　mercy；　and　the
  Penitent　shall　meet　his　forgiveness。　　My　crimes　are　monstrous；
  but　I　will　not　despair　of　pardon：　　Haply；　when　they　have　received
  due　chastisement　。　。　。　。'
  'Chastisement？　　Was　Purgatory　meant　for　guilt　like　yours？　　Hope
  you　that　your　offences　shall　be　bought　off　by　prayers　of
  superstitious　dotards　and　droning　Monks？　　Ambrosio；　be　wise！
  Mine
  you　must　be：　　You　are　doomed　to　flames；　but　may　shun　them　for　the
  present。　　Sign　this　parchment：　　I　will　bear　you　from　hence；　and
  you　may　pass　your　remaining　years　in　bliss　and　liberty。　　Enjoy
  your　existence：　　Indulge　in　every　pleasure　to　which　appetite　may
  lead　you：　　But　from　the　moment　that　it　quits　your　body；　remember
  that　your　soul　belongs　to　me；　and　that　I　will　not　be　defrauded　of
  my　right。'
  The　Monk　was　silent；　But　his　looks　declared　that　the　Tempter's
  words　were　not　thrown　away。　　He　reflected　on　the　conditions
  proposed　with　horror：　　On　the　other　hand；　He　believed　himself
  doomed　to　perdition　and　that；　by　refusing　the　Daemon's　succour；
  He　only　hastened　tortures　which　He　never　could　escape。　　The　Fiend
  saw　that　his　resolution　was　shaken：　　He　renewed　his　instances；
  and　endeavoured　to　fix　the　Abbot's　indecision。　　He　described　the
  agonies　of　death　in　the　most　terrific　colours；　and　He　worked　so
  powerfully　upon　Ambrosio's　despair　and　fears　that　He　prevailed
  upon　him　to　receive　the　Parchment。　　He　then　struck　the　iron　Pen
  which　He　held　into　a　vein　of　the　Monk's　left　hand。　　It　pierced
  deep；　and　was　instantly　filled　with　blood；　Yet　Ambrosio　felt　no
  pain　from　the　wound。　　The　Pen　was　put　into　his　hand：　　It
  trembled。　　The　Wretch　placed　the　Parchment　on　the　Table　before
  him；　and　prepared　to　sign　it。　　Suddenly　He　held　his　hand：　　He
  started　away　hastily；　and　threw　the　Pen　upon　the　table。
  'What　am　I　doing？'　He　criedThen　turning　to　the　Fiend　with　a
  desperate　air；　'Leave　me！　　Begone！　　I　will　not　sign　the
  Parchment。'
  'Fool！'　exclaimed　the　disappointed　Daemon；　darting　looks　so
  furious　as　penetrated　the　Friar's　soul　with　horror；　'Thus　am　I
  trifled　with？　　Go　then！　　Rave　in　agony；　expire　in　tortures；　and
  then　learn　the　extent　of　the　Eternal's　mercy！　　But　beware　how　you
  make　me　again　your　mock！　　Call　me　no　more　till　resolved　to　accept
  my　offers！　　Summon　me　a　second　time　to　dismiss　me　thus　idly；　and
  these　Talons　shall　rend　you　into　a　thousand　pieces！　Speak　yet
  again；　Will　you　sign　the　Parchment？'
  'I　will　not！　　Leave　me！　　Away！'
  Instantly　the　Thunder　was　heard　to　roll　horribly：　Once　more　the
  earth　trembled　with　violence：　　The　Dungeon　resounded　with　loud
  shrieks；　and　the　Daemon　fled　with　blasphemy　and　curses。
  At　first；　the　Monk　rejoiced　at　having　resisted　the　Seducer's
  arts；　and　obtained　a　triumph　over　Mankind's　Enemy：　　But　as　the
  hour　of　punishment　drew　near；　his　former　terrors　revived　in　his
  heart。　　Their　momentary　repose　seemed　to　have　given　them　fresh
  vigour。　　The　nearer　that　the　time　approached；　the　more　did　He
  dread　appearing　before　the　Throne　of　God。　　He　shuddered　to　think
  how　soon　He　must　be　plunged　into　eternity；　How　soon　meet　the　eyes
  of　his　Creator；　whom　He　had　so　grievously　offended。　　The　Bell
  announced　midnight：　　It　was　the　signal　for　being　led　to　the
  Stake！　　As　He　listened　to　the　first　stroke；　the　blood　ceased　to
  circulate　in　the　Abbot's　veins：　　He　heard　death　and　torture
  murmured　in　each　succeeding　sound。　　He　expected　to　see　the
  Archers　entering　his　prison；　and　as　the　Bell　forbore　to　toll；　he
  seized　the　magic　volume　in　a　fit　of　despair。　　He　opened　it；
  turned　hastily　to　the　seventh　page；　and　as　if　fearing　to　allow
  himself　a　moment's　thought　ran　over　the　fatal　lines　with
  rapidity。　　Accompanied　by　his　former　terrors；　Lucifer　again　stood
  before　the　Trembler。
  'You　have　summoned　me；'　said　the　Fiend；　'Are　you　determined　to　be
  wise？　　Will　you　accept　my　conditions？　　You　know　them　already。
  Renounce　your　claim　to　salvation；　make　over　to　me　your　soul；　and
  I　bear　you　from　this　dungeon　instantly。　　Yet　is　it　time。
  Resolve；　or　it　will　be　too　late。　　Will　you　sign　the　Parchment？'
  'I　must！Fate　urges　me！　I　accept　your　conditions。'
  'Sign　the　Parchment！'　replied　the　Daemon　in　an　exulting　tone。
  The　Contract　and　the　bloody　Pen　still　lay　upon　the　Table。
  Ambrosio　drew　near　it。　　He　prepared　to　sign　his　name。　　A　moment's
  reflection　made　him　hesitate。
  'Hark！'　cried　the　Tempter；　'They　come！　　Be　quick！　Sign　the
  Parchment；　and　I　bear　you　from　hence　this　moment。'
  In　effect；　the　Archers　were　heard　approaching；　appointed　to　lead
  Ambrosio　to　the　Stake。　　The　sound　encouraged　the　Monk　in　his
  resolution。
  'What　is　the　import　of　this　writing？'　said　He。
  'It　makes　your　soul　over　to　me　for　ever；　and　without　reserve。'
  'What　am　I　to　receive　in　exchange？'
  'My　protection；　and　release　from　this　dungeon。　　Sign　it；　and　this
  instant　I　bear　you　away。'
  Ambrosio　took　up　the　Pen；　He　set　it　to　the　Parchment。　Again　his
  courage　failed　him：　　He　felt　a　pang　of　terror　at　his　heart；　and
  once　more　threw　the　Pen　upon　the　Table。
  'Weak　and　Puerile！'　cried　the　exasperated　Fiend：　'Away　with　this
  folly！　　Sign　the　writing　this　instant；　or　I　sacrifice　you　to　my
  rage！'
  At　this　moment　the　bolt　of　the　outward　Door　was　drawn　back。　　The
  Prisoner　heard　the　rattling　of　Chains；　The　heavy　Bar　fell；　The
  Archers　were　on　the　point　of　entering。　　Worked　up　to　phrenzy　by
  the　urgent　danger；　shrinking　from　the　approach　of　death；
  terrified　by　the　Daemon's　threats；　and　seeing　no　other　means　to
  escape　destruction；　the　wretched　Monk　complied。　　He　signed　the
  fatal　contract；　and　gave　it　hastily　into　the　evil　Spirit's　hands；
  whose　eyes；　as　He　received　the　gift；　glared　with　malicious
  rapture。
  'Take　it！'　said　the　God…abandoned；　'Now　then　save　me！　　Snatch　me
  from　hence！'
  'Hold！　　Do　you　freely　and　absolutely　renounce　your　Creator　and
  his　Son？'
  'I　do！　I　do！'
  'Do　you　make　over　your　soul　to　me　for　ever？'
  'For　ever！'
  'Without　reserve　or　subterfuge？　　Without　future　appeal　to　the
  divine　mercy？'
  The　last　Chain　fell　from　the　door　of　the　prison：　　The　key　was
  heard　turning　in　the　Lock：　　Already　the　iron　door　grated　heavily
  upon　its　rusty　hinges。
  'I　am　yours　for　ever　and　irrevocably！'　cried　the　Monk　wild　with
  terror：　　'I　abandon　all　claim　to　salvation！　　I　own　no　power　but
  yours！　　Hark！　Hark！　　They　come！　　Oh！　save　me！　　Bear　me　away！'
  'I　have　triumphed！　　You　are　mine　past　reprieve；　and　I　fulfil　my
  promise。'
  While　He　spoke；　the　Door　unclosed。　　Instantly　the　Daemon　grasped
  one　of　Ambrosio's　arms；　spread　his　broad　pinions；　and　sprang　with
  him　into　the　air。　　The　roof　opened　as　they　soared　upwards；　and
  closed　again　when　they　had　quitted　the　Dungeon。
  In　the　meanwhile；　the　Gaoler　was　thrown　into　the　utmost　surprize
  by　the　disappearance　of　his　Prisoner。　　Though　neither　He　nor　the
  Archers　were　in　time　to　witness　the　Monk's　escape；　a　sulphurous
  smell　prevailing　through　the　prison　sufficiently　informed　them　by
  whose　aid　He　had　been　liberated。　　They　hastened　to　make　their
  report　to　the　Grand　Inquisitor。　　The　story；　how　a　Sorcerer　had
  been　carried　away　by　the　Devil；　was　soon　noised　about　Madrid；　and
  for　some　days　the　whole　City　was　employed　in　discussing　the
  subject。　　Gradually　it　ceased　to　be　the　topic　of　conversation：
  Other　adventures　arose　whose　novelty　engaged　universal　attention；
  and　Ambrosio　was　soon