with the blush of that cheek? Can the Lily rival
the whiteness of that hand? Oh! if such a Creature existed, and existed
but for me! Were I permitted to twine round my fingers those golden
ringlets, and press with my lips the treasures of that snowy bosom!
Gracious God, should I then resist the temptation? Should I not barter
for a single embrace the reward of my sufferings for thirty years?
Should I not abandon.... Fool that I am! Whither do I suffer my
admiration of this picture to hurry me? Away, impure ideas! Let me
remember that Woman is for ever lost to me. Never was Mortal formed so
perfect as this picture. But even did such exist, the trial might be
too mighty for a common virtue, but Ambrosio’s is proof against
temptation. Temptation, did I say? To me it would be none. What charms
me, when ideal and considered as a superior Being, would disgust me,
become Woman and tainted with all the failings of Mortality. It is not
the Woman’s beauty that fills me with such enthusiasm; It is the
Painter’s skill that I admire, it is the Divinity that I adore! Are not
the passions dead in my bosom? Have I not freed myself from the frailty
of Mankind? Fear not, Ambrosio! Take confidence in the strength of your
virtue. Enter boldly into a world to whose failings you are superior;
Reflect that you are now exempted from Humanity’s defects, and defy all
the arts of the Spirits of Darkness. They shall know you for what you
are!”Here his Reverie was interrupted by three soft knocks at the door of
his Cell. With difficulty did the Abbot awake from his delirium. The
knocking was repeated.“Who is there?” said Ambrosio at length.“It is only Rosario,” replied a gentle voice.“Enter! Enter, my Son!”The Door was immediately opened, and Rosario appeared with a small
basket in his hand.Rosario was a young Novice belonging to the Monastery, who in three
Months intended to make his profession. A sort of mystery enveloped
this Youth which rendered him at once an object of interest and
curiosity. His hatred of society, his profound melancholy, his rigid
observation of the duties of his order, and his voluntary seclusion
from the world at his age so unusual, attracted the notice of the whole
fraternity. He seemed fearful of being recognised, and no one had ever
seen his face. His head was continually muffled up in his Cowl; Yet
such of his features as accident discovered, appeared the most
beautiful and noble. Rosario was the only name by which He was known in
the Monastery.No one knew from whence He came, and when questioned in the subject He
preserved a profound silence. A Stranger, whose rich habit and
magnificent equipage declared him to be of distinguished rank, had
engaged the Monks to receive a Novice, and had deposited the necessary

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