The beams of the morning sun broke in roseate deep lustre through the
painted windows of the church. Alone, and lost in deep thought, I sat in
the confessional. Only the steps of the officiating lay brother, whose
duty it was to sweep the church, sounded through the vaulted roof. I did
not expect any visitors at such an hour; but suddenly I heard near me a
rustling sound; and, behold! there came a tall, slender, but exquisitely
proportioned, figure of a young woman, in a foreign dress, with a long
veil over her face, who must have entered at one of the private doors,
and was approaching me as if for confession. In her movements was
indescribable grace--she drew nearer--she entered the confessional, and
kneeled down. Deep sighs, as if involuntarily, were heaved from her
bosom. It seemed as if, even before she spoke, some irresistible spell
of enchantment pervaded the atmosphere, and overpowered me with
emotions, such as, till now, I had never experienced.
How can I describe the tone of her voice, which was wholly new and
peculiar; but which penetrated even into my inmost heart! She began her
confession. Every word that she uttered rivetted more and more my
attention, and ruled, like a supernatural charm, over my feelings. She
confessed, in the first place, that she cherished a forbidden love, with
which she had long struggled in vain; and this love was so much the more
sinful, because holy vows for ever fettered the object of her affection.
Yet, in this hopeless delirium of her despair, she had many times cursed
the bonds, however sacred, which held them thus asunder.--She here
faltered--paused--then, with a torrent of tears, which almost stifled
her utterance, added, "Thou thyself, Medardus, art the consecrated being
whom I so unspeakably love!"
As if in deadly convulsions, all my nerves irresistibly vibrated. I was
out of myself. An impulse, till now never known, almost raged in my
bosom. A passionate desire to behold her features--to press her to my
heart--to perish at once in delight and despair--wholly took possession
of me! A moment of pleasure to be purchased by an eternity of pain! She
was now silent; but I heard still the deep heaving of her breath. In a
kind of wild despair, I violently summoned up all my strength. In what
words I answered her, I cannot now remember, nor durst I look on her as
she departed; but I perceived that she silently rose up, and retired;
while, with the cloth curtains firmly pressed upon my eyelids, I
remained fixed, motionless, and almost unconscious, in the confessional.
* * * * *
By good chance, no one else came into the church, and I had an
opportunity, therefore, to escape quietly into my cell. How completely
different all things now appeared to me! How foolish--how insipid all my
former endeavours! I had not seen the countenance of the unknown; and
yet, by the force of my own imagination, her image lived within my
heart. She looked on me with her mild blue eyes, in which tears were
glistening, and from which glances fell into my soul like consuming
fire, which no prayer and no penitential exercises any more could
extinguish. Such penitence, indeed, I did not spare; but, on the
contrary, chastised myself with the knotted cords of our order, till
blood streamed from my mangled flesh, that I might, if possible, escape
from that eternal destruction by which I was now threatened.
* * * * *
There was an altar in our church dedicated to St Rosalia; and her
picture, admirably painted, was hung over it, representing the Saint at
the moment when she suffered martyrdom. In this picture, which had never
particularly struck me before, I now at once recognised the likeness of
my beloved! Even her dress exactly resembled the foreign habit of the
unknown!
Here, therefore, like a victim of the most horrible insanity, I used to
lie, for hours together, prostrate upon the steps of the altar, uttering
hideous groans, and even howling in despair, so that the monks were
terrified, and fled from me in dismay.
In more tranquil moments, I used to walk hurriedly up and down the
convent garden. I beheld her well-known from wandering through the misty
fragrant regions of the distant landscape. I saw her emerging from the
thickets of the dense wood, rising like a naiad from the
fountains--hovering, like some goddess of the olden time, over the
flowery meadows. Everywhere I beheld her, and lived but for her alone.
Then I cursed my vows, and my now miserable existence. I resolved to go
forth into the world, and not to rest until I had discovered her, and
purchased happiness, though at the expense of my soul's eternal weal!
At last, however, I succeeded so far, that I could, at least in presence
of the Prior and the monks, moderate the ebullitions of my (to them)
unaccountable delirium. I could appear more tranquil; yet, by this
means, my inward agitations were only the more wasting and destructive.
No slumber, no rest by night or by day! Incessantly persecuted and
tormented by one and the same phantom, I passed, especially the night,
always in intolerable conflicts. I called, severally, on all the
Saints; but not to rescue me from the seductive image by which I was
beset--not to save my soul from eternal misery--No! but to bestow on me
the object of my affections--to annihilate my vows, and to give me
freedom, that I might, without _double_ guilt, fall into the abyss of
sin.
* * * * *
At last, I had firmly resolved, that I would make an end of my torments,
by a sudden flight from the convent. For, by some strange hallucination,
nothing more than freedom from my monastic engagements seemed to me
necessary to bring the unknown within my arms, and to put an end to the
passions by which I was tormented.
I resolved that, having disguised my appearance sufficiently by cutting
off my long beard, and assuming a lay dress, I would linger and wander
about in the town till I had found her. I never once took into
consideration how difficult, nay, how impossible, this would prove, or
that, perhaps, having no money, I would not be able to live for a single
day beyond the walls of the monastery.
* * * * *
The last day that I intended to spend among the capuchins had now
arrived. By a lucky chance, I had been able to obtain a genteel dress,
like that of an ordinary citizen. On the following night, I was resolved
to leave the convent, never more to return.
* * * * *
Evening had already closed in, when, suddenly, I received from the Prior
a summons to attend him. I trembled involuntarily at the message; for
nothing appeared to me more certain, than that he had discovered more or
less of my secret plans.
Leonardus received me with unusual gravity--nay, with an imposing
dignity of demeanour, by which I was quite overawed.
"Brother Medardus," he began, "your unreasonable behaviour, which I look
upon only as the too powerful ebullition of mental excitement, (but
which excitement you have for a long time, perhaps not with the purest
intentions, sought to foster,)--this behaviour, I say, has utterly
disturbed our community, and torn asunder those peaceful bands by which
the society was here united. Such conduct operates in the most
destructive manner against that cheerfulness and good humour which, till
now, I had successfully striven to establish among the monks, as the
surest proof and demonstration of a consistent and pious life.
"Perhaps, however, some peculiar and unfortunate event during your
sojourn among us bears the blame of all this. You should, however, have
sought consolation from me, as from a friend and father, to whom you
might confide all things; but you have been silent, and I am the less
inclined now to trouble you with questions, as the possession of such a
secret might, in a great measure, deprive me of that mental freedom and
tranquillity, which, at my years, I prize above all earthly treasures.
"You have many times, and especially at the altar of St Rosalia, by
horrible and extraordinary expressions, which seemed to escape from you
in the unconsciousness of delirium, given great scandal, not only to the
brethren, but to strangers who happened to be visiting among us.
Therefore, according to the laws of the monastery, I could punish you
severely; but I shall not do so, since, perhaps, some evil influence,
some demon, or, in short, the Arch-fiend himself, against whom you have
not sufficiently striven, is the direct cause of your errors; and I
shall only give you up to the guidance of your own conscience, with the
injunction to be ardent and faithful in penitence and prayer.--Medardus,
I can read deep into thy soul!--Thou wishest for freedom, and to be
abroad in the world."
Leonardus fixed on me his most penetrating glances, which I was quite
unable to encounter; but, on the contrary, felt myself wholly
overpowered, and, conscious of my own wicked designs, remained silent.
"I understand you," said Leonardus, "and believe, indeed, that this
world, if you walk through it piously, may contribute more to your
welfare than the lonely life in our convent. An occurrence, involving
the best interests of our order, renders it necessary to send one of the
brethren to Rome--I have chosen you for this purpose; and, even
to-morrow, you may be provided with the necessary powers and
instructions, and set forward on your journey. You are so much the
better qualified for this expedition, being still young and active,
clever in business, and a perfect master of the Italian language.
"Betake yourself now to your cell--pray with fervour for the welfare of
your soul. I shall meanwhile offer up my prayers for you; but leave out
all corporeal chastisement, which would only weaken you, and render you
unfit for the journey. At day-break, I shall await you in my chamber."
Like a gleam from Heaven, these words of Leonardus fell upon the
darkness of my soul. Instead of the hatred which I had been cherishing,
the attachment which I had before felt towards him regained its full
sway. I even burst into tears; for it appeared to me as if he indeed
read my most secret thoughts, and bestowed on me the free liberty of
giving myself up to that imperious destiny, which, perhaps, after
granting a few moments of delusive pleasure, might precipitate me into
an abyss of irremediable destruction.
Flight and secrecy were now become wholly needless. I could openly leave
the convent, and freely give myself up to my own plans of following that
being, without whom there could be for me no happiness upon earth, and
whom I was resolved, at all rides, to discover.
The journey to Rome, and the commissions with which I was to be charged,
appeared to me only inventions of Leonardus, in order that I might, in a
becoming manner, quit the monastery.
I passed the night, according to his injunctions, in prayer and in
preparation for the journey. The rest of the miraculous wine I put into
a basket-bottle, in order to guard it as a precious cordial, and
afterwards, going to the relic room, deposited the empty flask in the
cabinet.
It was not without astonishment that when, on the following day, I
waited on the Prior, I perceived, from his diffuse and serious
instructions, that there was a real cause for my being sent to Rome, and
that the dispatches to which he had alluded were of considerable weight
and importance. The reflection, therefore, fell heavily on my
conscience, that, after receiving these credentials, I should yet be
determined, from the moment that I left the convent, to give myself
wholly up to my own impulses, without the slightest regard to any duty
whatever. The thoughts, however, of _her_--the mistress of my
soul--failed not to encourage me again, and I resolved to remain
faithful to my own plans. The brethren soon after assembled together;
and my leave-taking of them, and especially of the Prior Leonardus,
filled me with the deepest melancholy. At last, the convent gates closed
behind me, and I was equipped for my journey into a far distant land.