Gradually he felt the bosom which rested against his, glow with returning warmth. Her heart throbbed again; her blood flowed swifter, and her lips moved. At length she opened her eyes, but still oppressed and bewildered by the effects of the strong opiate, she closed them again immediately. Ambrosio watched her narrowly, nor permitted a movement to escape him. Perceiving that she was fully restored to existence, he caught her in rapture to his bosom, and closely pressed his lips to hers. The suddenness of his action sufficed to dissipate the fumes which obscured Antonia’s reason. She hastily raised herself, and cast a wild look round her. The strange images which presented themselves on every side contributed to confuse her. She put her hand to her head, as if to settle her disordered imagination. At length she took it away, and threw her eyes through the dungeon a second time. They fixed upon the abbot’s face.

“Where am I?” she said abruptly. “How came I here? Where is my mother? Methought I saw her! Oh! a dream, a dreadful dreadful dream told me⁠ ⁠… But where am I? Let me go! I cannot stay here!”

She attempted to rise, but the monk prevented her.

“Be calm, lovely Antonia!” he replied; “no danger is near you: confide in my protection. Why do you gaze on me so earnestly? Do you not know me? Not know your friend? Ambrosio?”

“Ambrosio? My friend? Oh! yes, yes; I remember⁠ ⁠… But why am I here? Who has brought me? Why are you with me? Oh! Flora bad me beware.⁠ ⁠… ! Here are nothing but graves, and tombs, and skeletons! This place frightens me! Good Ambrosio take me away from it, for it recalls my fearful dream! Methought I was dead, and laid in my grave! Good Ambrosio, take me from hence. Will you not? Oh! will you not? Do not look on me thus! Your flaming eyes terrify me! Spare me, father! Oh! spare me for God’s sake!”