“Matilda!”

“What I tell you I resolved never to discover to you but on the bed of death: that moment is now arrived. You cannot have forgotten the day already, when your life was endangered by the bite of a cientipedoro. The physician gave you over, declaring himself ignorant how to extract the venom: I knew but of one means, and hesitated not a moment to employ it. I was left alone with you: you slept; I loosened the bandage from your hand; I kissed the wound, and drew out the poison with my lips. The effect has been more sudden than I expected. I feel death at my heart; yet an hour, and I shall be in a better world.”

“Almighty God!” exclaimed the abbot, and sank almost lifeless upon the bed.

After a few minutes he again raised himself up suddenly, and gazed upon Matilda with all the wildness of despair.

“And you have sacrificed yourself for me! You die, and die to preserve Ambrosio! And is there indeed no remedy, Matilda? And is there indeed no hope? Speak to me, oh! speak to me! Tell me, that you have still the means of life!”

“Be comforted, my only friend! Yes, I have still the means of life in my power: but ’tis a means which I dare not employ. It is dangerous! It is dreadful! Life would be purchased at too dear a rate,⁠ ⁠… unless it were permitted me to live for you.”

“Then live for me, Matilda, for me and gratitude!”⁠—(He caught her hand, and pressed it rapturously to his lips.)⁠—“Remember our late conversations; I now consent to everything: remember in what lively colours you described the union of souls; be it ours to realize those ideas. Let us forget the distinctions of sex, despise the world’s prejudices, and only consider each other as brother and friend. Live then, Matilda! Oh! live for me!”