Other　adventures　arose　whose　novelty　engaged　universal　attention；
  and　Ambrosio　was　soon　forgotten　as　totally；　as　if　He　never　had
  existed。　　While　this　was　passing；　the　Monk　supported　by　his
  infernal　guide；　traversed　the　air　with　the　rapidity　of　an　arrow；
  and　a　few　moments　placed　him　upon　a　Precipice's　brink；　the
  steepest　in　Sierra　Morena。
  Though　rescued　from　the　Inquisition；　Ambrosio　as　yet　was
  insensible　of　the　blessings　of　liberty。　　The　damning　contract
  weighed　heavy　upon　his　mind；　and　the　scenes　in　which　He　had　been
  a　principal　actor　had　left　behind　them　such　impressions　as
  rendered　his　heart　the　seat　of　anarchy　and　confusion。　　The
  Objects　now　before　his　eyes；　and　which　the　full　Moon　sailing
  through　clouds　permitted　him　to　examine；　were　ill…calculated　to
  inspire　that　calm；　of　which　He　stood　so　much　in　need。　　The
  disorder　of　his　imagination　was　increased　by　the　wildness　of　the
  surrounding　scenery；　By　the　gloomy　Caverns　and　steep　rocks；
  rising　above　each　other；　and　dividing　the　passing　clouds；
  solitary　clusters　of　Trees　scattered　here　and　there；　among　whose
  thick…twined　branches　the　wind　of　night　sighed　hoarsely　and
  mournfully；　the　shrill　cry　of　mountain　Eagles；　who　had　built
  their　nests　among　these　lonely　Desarts；　the　stunning　roar　of
  torrents；　as　swelled　by　late　rains　they　rushed　violently　down
  tremendous　precipices；　and　the　dark　waters　of　a　silent　sluggish
  stream　which　faintly　reflected　the　moonbeams；　and　bathed　the
  Rock's　base　on　which　Ambrosio　stood。　　The　Abbot　cast　round　him　a
  look　of　terror。　　His　infernal　Conductor　was　still　by　his　side；
  and　eyed　him　with　a　look　of　mingled　malice；　exultation；　and
  contempt。
  'Whither　have　you　brought　me？'　said　the　Monk　at　length　in　an
  hollow　trembling　voice：　　'Why　am　I　placed　in　this　melancholy
  scene？　　Bear　me　from　it　quickly！　　Carry　me　to　Matilda！'
  The　Fiend　replied　not；　but　continued　to　gaze　upon　him　in　silence。
  Ambrosio　could　not　sustain　his　glance；　He　turned　away　his　eyes；
  while　thus　spoke　the　Daemon：
  'I　have　him　then　in　my　power！　　This　model　of　piety！　　This　being
  without　reproach！　　This　Mortal　who　placed　his　puny　virtues　on　a
  level　with　those　of　Angels。　　He　is　mine！　　Irrevocably；　eternally
  mine！　　Companions　of　my　sufferings！　　Denizens　of　hell！　　How
  grateful　will　be　my　present！'
  He　paused；　then　addressed　himself　to　the　Monk
  'Carry　you　to　Matilda？'　He　continued；　repeating　Ambrosio's　words：
  'Wretch！　you　shall　soon　be　with　her！　You　well　deserve　a　place
  near　her；　for　hell　boasts　no　miscreant　more　guilty　than　yourself。
  Hark；　Ambrosio；　while　I　unveil　your　crimes！　　You　have　shed　the
  blood　of　two　innocents；　Antonia　and　Elvira　perished　by　your　hand。
  That　Antonia　whom　you　violated；　was　your　Sister！　That　Elvira　whom
  you　murdered；　gave　you　birth！　Tremble；　abandoned　Hypocrite！
  Inhuman　Parricide！　Incestuous　Ravisher！　　Tremble　at　the　extent　of
  your　offences！　　And　you　it　was　who　thought　yourself　proof　against
  temptation；　absolved　from　human　frailties；　and　free　from　error
  and　vice！　　Is　pride　then　a　virtue？　　Is　inhumanity　no　fault？
  Know；　vain　Man！　　That　I　long　have　marked　you　for　my　prey：　　I
  watched　the　movements　of　your　heart；　I　saw　that　you　were　virtuous
  from　vanity；　not　principle；　and　I　seized　the　fit　moment　of
  seduction。　　I　observed　your　blind　idolatry　of　the　Madona's
  picture。　　I　bad　a　subordinate　but　crafty　spirit　assume　a　similar
  form；　and　you　eagerly　yielded　to　the　blandishments　of　Matilda。
  Your　pride　was　gratified　by　her　flattery；　Your　lust　only　needed
  an　opportunity　to　break　forth；　You　ran　into　the　snare　blindly；
  and　scrupled　not　to　commit　a　crime　which　you　blamed　in　another
  with　unfeeling　severity。　　It　was　I　who　threw　Matilda　in　your　way；
  It　was　I　who　gave　you　entrance　to　Antonia's　chamber；　It　was　I　who
  caused　the　dagger　to　be　given　you　which　pierced　your　Sister's
  bosom；　and　it　was　I　who　warned　Elvira　in　dreams　of　your　designs
  upon　her　Daughter；　and　thus；　by　preventing　your　profiting　by　her
  sleep；　compelled　you　to　add　rape　as　well　as　incest　to　the
  catalogue　of　your　crimes。　　Hear；　hear；　Ambrosio！　　Had　you
  resisted　me　one　minute　longer；　you　had　saved　your　body　and　soul。
  The　guards　whom　you　heard　at　your　prison　door　came　to　signify
  your　pardon。　　But　I　had　already　triumphed：　　My　plots　had　already
  succeeded。　　Scarcely　could　I　propose　crimes　so　quick　as　you
  performed　them。　　You　are　mine；　and　Heaven　itself　cannot　rescue
  you　from　my　power。　　Hope　not　that　your　penitence　will　make　void
  our　contract。　Here　is　your　bond　signed　with　your　blood；　You　have
  given　up　your　claim　to　mercy；　and　nothing　can　restore　to　you　the
  rights　which　you　have　foolishly　resigned。　　Believe　you　that　your
  secret　thoughts　escaped　me？　　No；　no；　I　read　them　all！　　You
  trusted　that　you　should　still　have　time　for　repentance。　　I　saw
  your　artifice；　knew　its　falsity；　and　rejoiced　in　deceiving　the
  deceiver！　　You　are　mine　beyond　reprieve：　　I　burn　to　possess　my
  right；　and　alive　you　quit　not　these　mountains。'
  During　the　Daemon's　speech；　Ambrosio　had　been　stupefied　by　terror
  and　surprize。　　This　last　declaration　rouzed　him。
  'Not　quit　these　mountains　alive？'　He　exclaimed：　'Perfidious；　what
  mean　you？　　Have　you　forgotten　our　contract？'
  The　Fiend　answered　by　a　malicious　laugh：
  'Our　contract？　　Have　I　not　performed　my　part？　　What　more　did　I
  promise　than　to　save　you　from　your　prison？　　Have　I　not　done　so？
  Are　you　not　safe　from　the　Inquisitionsafe　from　all　but　from
  me？　　Fool　that　you　were　to　confide　yourself　to　a　Devil！　　Why　did
  you　not　stipulate　for　life；　and　power；　and　pleasure？　　Then　all
  would　have　been　granted：　　Now；　your　reflections　come　too　late。
  Miscreant；　prepare　for　death；　You　have　not　many　hours　to　live！'
  On　hearing　this　sentence；　dreadful　were　the　feelings　of　the
  devoted　Wretch！　　He　sank　upon　his　knees；　and　raised　his　hands
  towards　heaven。　　The　Fiend　read　his　intention　and　prevented　it
  'What？'　He　cried；　darting　at　him　a　look　of　fury：　　'Dare　you　still
  implore　the　Eternal's　mercy？　　Would　you　feign　penitence；　and
  again　act　an　Hypocrite's　part？　　Villain；　resign　your　hopes　of
  pardon。　　Thus　I　secure　my　prey！'
  As　He　said　this；　darting　his　talons　into　the　Monk's　shaven　crown；
  He　sprang　with　him　from　the　rock。　　The　Caves　and　mountains　rang
  with　Ambrosio's　shrieks。　The　Daemon　continued　to　soar　aloft；　till
  reaching　a　dreadful　height；　He　released　the　sufferer。　　Headlong
  fell　the　Monk　through　the　airy　waste；　The　sharp　point　of　a　rock
  received　him；　and　He　rolled　from　precipice　to　precipice；　till
  bruised　and　mangled　He　rested　on　the　river's　banks。　　Life　still
  existed　in　his　miserable　frame：　He　attempted　in　vain　to　raise
  himself；　His　broken　and　dislocated　limbs　refused　to　perform　their
  office；　nor　was　He　able　to　quit　the　spot　where　He　had　first
  fallen。　　The　Sun　now　rose　above　the　horizon；　Its　scorching　beams
  darted　full　upon　the　head　of　the　expiring　Sinner。　　Myriads　of
  insects　were　called　forth　by　the　warmth；　They　drank　the　blood
  which　trickled　from　Ambrosio's　wounds；　He　had　no　power　to　drive
  them　from　him；　and　they　fastened　upon　his　sores；　darted　their
  stings　into　his　body；　covered　him　with　their　multitudes；　and
  inflicted　on　him　tortures　the　most　exquisite　and　insupportable。
  The　Eagles　of　the　rock　tore　his　flesh　piecemeal；　and　dug　out　his
  eyeballs　with　their　crooked　beaks。　　A　burning　thirst　tormented
  him；　He　heard　the　river's　murmur　as　it　rolled　beside　him；　but
  strove　in　vain　to　drag　himself　towards　the　sound。　　Blind；　maimed；
  helpless；　and　despairing；　venting　his　rage　in　blasphemy　and
  curses；　execrating　his　existence；　yet　dreading　the　arrival　of
  death　destined　to　yield　him　up　to　greater　torments；　six　miserable
  days　did　the　Villain　languish。　　On　the　Seventh　a　violent　storm
  arose：　The　winds　in　fury　rent　up　rocks　and　forests：　　The　sky　was
  now　black　with　clouds；　now　sheeted　with　fire：　　The　rain　fell　in
  torrents；　It　swelled　the　stream；　The　waves　overflowed　their
  banks；　They　reached　the　spot　where　Ambrosio　lay；　and　when　they
  abated　carried　with　them　into　the　river　the　Corse　of　the
  despairing　Monk。
  End　XFIR驗MZ?br />