Matilda ceased to sing. Dreading the influence of her charms, Ambrosio remained with his eyes closed, and offered up his prayers to St. Francis to assist him in this dangerous trial! Matilda believed that he was sleeping. She rose from her seat, approached the bed softly, and for some minutes gazed upon him attentively.

“He sleeps!” said she at length in a low voice, but whose accents the abbot distinguished perfectly; “Now then I may gaze upon him without offence! I may mix my breath with his; I may dote upon his features, and he cannot suspect me of impurity and deceit!⁠—He fears my seducing him to the violation of his vows! Oh! the unjust! Were it my wish to excite desire, should I conceal my features from him so carefully? Those features, of which I daily hear him.⁠ ⁠…”

She stopped, and was lost in her reflections.