“Oh! Lorenzo, we shall see such a glorious sight! The prioress of St. Clare and her whole train of nuns are coming hither. You are to know, that the pious Father Ambrosio (The lord reward him for it!) will upon no account move out of his own precincts: it being absolutely necessary for every fashionable convent to have him for its confessor, the nuns are in consequence obliged to visit him at the abbey; since when the mountain will not come to Muhammad, Muhammad must needs go to the mountain. Now the prioress of St. Clare, the better to escape the gaze of such impure eyes as belong to yourself and your humble servant, thinks proper to bring her holy flock to confession in the dusk: she is to be admitted into the abbey chapel by yon private door. The porteress of St. Clare, who is a worthy old soul and a particular friend of mine, has just assured me of their being here in a few moments. There is news for you, you rogue! We shall see some of the prettiest faces in Madrid!”