“For what am I summoned hither?” said the dæmon, in a voice which sulphurous fogs had damped to hoarseness.
At the sound Nature seemed to tremble: A violent earthquake rocked the ground, accompanied by a fresh burst of Thunder, louder and more appalling than the first.
Ambrosio was long unable to answer the Dæmon’s demand.
“I am condemned to die;” He said with a faint voice, his blood running cold, while He gazed upon his dreadful Visitor. “Save me! Bear me from hence!”
“Shall the reward of my services be paid me? Dare you embrace my cause? Will you be mine, body and soul? Are you prepared to renounce him who made you, and him who died for you? Answer but ‘Yes’ and Lucifer is your Slave.”
“Will no less price content you? Can nothing satisfy you but my eternal ruin? Spirit, you ask too much. Yet convey me from this dungeon: Be my Servant for one hour, and I will be yours for a thousand years. Will not this offer suffice?”
“It will not. I must have your soul; must have it mine, and mine for ever.”
“Insatiate Dæmon, I will not doom myself to endless torments. I will not give up my hopes of being one day pardoned.”
“You will not? On what Chimaera rest then your hopes? Short-sighted Mortal! Miserable Wretch! Are you not guilty? Are you not infamous in the eyes of Men and Angels. Can such enormous sins be forgiven? Hope you to escape my power? Your fate is already pronounced. The Eternal has abandoned you; Mine you are marked in the book of destiny, and mine you must and shall be!”
“Fiend, ’tis false! Infinite is the Almighty’s mercy, and the Penitent shall meet his forgiveness. My crimes are monstrous, but I will not despair of pardon: Haply, when they have received due chastisement....”