heart has already felt the anguish of hopeless love; oh! then if you really value me, spare mine that anguish! Give me back my promise; fly from these walls. Go, and you bear with you my warmest prayers for your happiness, my friendship, my esteem and admiration: stay, and you become to me the source of danger, of sufferings, of despair! Answer me, Matilda; what is your resolve?”⁠—She was silent⁠—“Will you not speak, Matilda? Will you not name your choice?”

“Cruel! Cruel!” she exclaimed, wringing her hands in agony; “You know too well that you offer me no choice! You know too well that I can have no will but yours!”

“I was not then deceived! Matilda’s generosity equals my expectations.”

“Yes; I will prove the truth of my affection by submitting to a decree which cuts me to the very heart. Take back your promise. I will quit the monastery this very day. I have a relation, abbess of a convent in Estramadura: to her will I bend my steps, and shut myself from the world forever. Yet tell me, Father, shall I bear your good wishes with me to my solitude? Will you sometimes abstract your attention from heavenly objects to bestow a thought upon me?”

“Ah! Matilda, I fear that I shall think on you but too often for my repose!”

“Then I have nothing more to wish for, save that we may meet in heaven. Farewell, my friend! my Ambrosio!⁠—And yet methinks, I would fain bear with me some token of your regard!”

“What shall I give you?”