(158)
man reigns in my bosom, and I am become a prey to the wildest of passions. Away with friendship! 'tis a cold unfeeling word: 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 feat. 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 myerrors
