My bosom burns with love, with unutterable love, and love must be its return.
Tremble then, Ambrosio, tremble to succeed in your prayers.

If I live, your truth, your reputation, your reward of a life past in sufferings, all that you value is irretrievably lost.

I shall no longer be able to combat my passions, shall seize every opportunity to excite your desires, and labour to effect your dishonour and my own.

No, no, Ambrosio; I must not live! I am convinced with every moment, that I have but one alternative; I feel with every heart-throb, that I must enjoy you, or die.' 'Amazement!--Matilda! Can it be you who speak to me ?' He made a movement as if to quit his seat.

She uttered a loud shriek, and raising herself half out of the Bed, threw her arms round the Friar to detain him.
'Oh! do not leave me! Listen to my errors with compassion! In a few hours I shall be no more; Yet a little, and I am free from this disgraceful passion.' 'Wretched Woman, what can I say to you! I cannot ...