'Heaven never gave you these perfections,' resumed he, 'to be concealed in a dark lonesome cell! Those melting lips of yours were never formed to kiss the feet of a cold lifeless image, or pour forth oraisons to unhearing saints, but to make blest some warm, some happy he, who knows and has the power of returning the raptures they bestow!' These last words were attended with such vehement and repeated pressures of the lips he praised, as left her no room to doubt the aim of his desires; as did the manner of her receiving them also convince him of his success.
'But are you in earnest, resolved to be a nun?' replied he. 'Since fate will have it so,' replied she with a deep sigh, and a look so languishing and so sweet as pierced his very soul. 'Make me your fate, then,' cried he impatiently: 'be mine, and not all the saints in the kalendar shall snatch you from me.'—'You are then—you must be, my fate!' said she, returning his embrace with equal eagerness: 'you have the power of fate; and are no less resistless. Henceforth I'll seek no other heaven but your love—your breast my altar—and your arms my cell!'
It will be easily supposed that, after this, she refused no liberties he thought fit to take. Nothing but the last favour was wanting to compleat his wishes; and to that he would not venture to proceed, for fear of an interruption: but they agreed to meet at the Portuguese ambassador's chapel at six o'clock that same evening. Mutual kisses and embraces having sealed the covenant, he went down to dress, and left her to compose her countenance against Mrs. Munden's return.
This very wicked woman, who had never any real thoughts of going into a monastery, and only intended to appropriate the money she expected from Mr. Thoughtless to such uses as might induce some man of fortune to make choice of her for a mistress, now gave herself little pain whether he granted her request or not, imagining she had found in Mr. Munden all she wished for, or could hope, in a gallant.
She affected, however, to Mrs. Munden, to be under some concern for this delay of her intended journey; but said she would employ the time she staid in such acts of devotion as should best prepare her to become a member of that sacred society which she soon hoped to be among. 'I have not been,' added she, 'for a long time, at confession; but I will go this afternoon, and ease my conscience of it's load of guilt.'
Thus impiously did she profane the name of religion, by making it the veil to cover the most shameful depravities of nature. On the arrival of the appointed hour, with looks of sanctity, and a heart full of impurity, she hasted to the place of rendezvous. The punctual Mr. Munden waited for her at the chapel-door, and conducted her where they had all the freedom they could wish of indulging their vicious inclinations.
They broke off this amorous intercourse much sooner than either of them desired; Mademoiselle de Roquelair not being able to find a plausible excuse to make to Mrs. Munden for staying beyond the time which her pretended devotions might be reasonably supposed to take up: but, to atone for this misfortune, a strategem was contrived between them, not only for their meeting next day, but also for their continuing together a much longer time. It was thus.
She told Mrs. Munden that the reverend father to whom she had confessed, informed her that a young lady, of a very worthy family in England, having passed her year of probation at a monastery in Bologne, and returned hither only to take an eternal leave of her friends, and of the world, was now just ready to go back, in order to be initiated. 'To this family,' added she, 'the good father has offered to introduce me to-morrow; and if the young lady approves of my being the companion of her voyage, as he assures me she certainly will, how happy shall I think myself!'
The truth of all this not being suspected by Mrs. Munden, she congratulated her upon it. It is easy to deceive the innocent; but, it must be owned, this wicked woman had subtlety enough to have imposed on a person more skilled in the artifices of the world than was the amiable lady on whom she practised it.