Mi. Among these papers one letter was half open: unintentionally the first words caught my eye, and their import compelled me to read the rest. It was from the abbess of the Ursulines, whose chapel is only separated from ours by a party-wall. It informed me, that a communication exists between the two convents, unknown to all but the prior and his confidants; that the most scandalous abuses—
Venoni. (frantic with impatience) Josepha, Josepha—oh! speak to me of Josepha!
Mi. Other letters leave no doubt, that the prior’s motive for secluding her in the Ursuline convent was a licentious passion for your bride. In that convent every art was employed to corrupt her heart, but every art was employed in vain. She endeavoured to escape; she was watched and closely confined. Your return was expected daily—Josepha threatened her tyrants with disclosure of this atrocious secret—the prior and his accomplice stood on the brink of an abyss, and, to prevent it, she was precipitated into an untimely grave.
Venoni. (leaning against a tree) My brain turns around.
Mi. Nay, sink not beneath the blow; think upon Josepha’s murder, and hasten to avenge it—think upon the dreadful fate which awaits yourself. I come hither to rescue you, and—
Venoni. Stay, stay! my brain—my ideas—oh, God! oh, God! can there be men so cruel—can there be hearts so hard! he, he who supported my aching head on his bosom—who wept with me—who pitied me—rage! distraction!—but no! (shuddering) this crime is too horrible, nature revolts at it, this crime is impossible!
Mi. Impossible? then read this. (taking out a letter) I have seen the prior show you notes from the abbess, in which she affected to pity your situation, and lament the loss of Josepha—you recollect her writing?
Venoni. Recollect it? oh heaven, too well!—let me look on the letter! (father Michael opens the lantern and throws a light upon the paper, at the same time shading it with his habit to prevent its being observed at the convent) Yes, this is her hand; I should know it among a thousand others.
Mi. Read! read, and be convinced.
Venoni. (reading, while emotion frequently chokes his voice) “We are undone, Cœlestino; her parents have written to me; and in a few days we must expect Venoni’s return. The incensed Josepha threatens to reveal all that has past; prayers and menaces have been tried in vain; she has determined on our destruction, and nothing can preserve us but her removal from the world. You must decide immediately; answer me but one word, and before three days are elapsed, Josepha and this dangerous secret shall be buried together, and for ever!” (he sinks upon a bank of turf, as if stupified, and sits there in an attitude of motionless despair)