nd remember that whenever it is
necessary to make love to yonder Harridan, you may reckon upon my
services.'

He said, and darted out of the Cathedral.

'How wild-brained!' said Lorenzo; 'With so excellent an heart, what
pity that He possesses so little solidity of judgment!'

The night was now fast advancing. The Lamps were not yet lighted. The
faint beams of the rising Moon scarcely could pierce through the gothic
obscurity of the Church. Lorenzo found himself unable to quit the
Spot. The void left in his bosom by Antonia's absence, and his
Sister's sacrifice which Don Christoval had just recalled to his
imagination, created that melancholy of mind which accorded but too
well with the religious gloom surrounding him. He was still leaning
against the seventh column from the Pulpit. A soft and cooling air
breathed along the solitary Aisles: The Moonbeams darting into the
Church through painted windows tinged the fretted roofs and massy
pillars with a thousand various tints of light and colours:

Universal silence prevailed around, only interrupted by the occasional
closing of Doors in the adjoining Abbey.

The calm of the hour and solitude of the place contributed to nourish
Lorenzo's disposition to melancholy. He threw himself upon a seat which
stood near him, and abandoned himself to the delusions of his fancy.
He thought of his union with Antonia; He thought of the obstacles which
might oppose his wishes; and a thousand changing visions floated before
his fancy, sad 'tis true, but not unpleasing. Sleep insensibly stole
over him, and the tranquil solemnity of his mind when awake for a while
continued to influence his slumbers.

He still fancied himself to be in the Church of the Capuchins; but it
was no longer dark and solitary. Multitudes of silver Lamps shed
splendour from the vaulted Roof; Accompanied by the captivating chaunt
of distant choristers, the Organ's melody swelled through the Church;
The Altar seemed decorated as for some distinguished feast; It was
surrounded by a brilliant Company; and near it stood Antonia arrayed in
bridal white, and blushing with all the charms of Virgin Modesty.

Half hoping, half fearing, Lorenzo gazed upon the scene before him.
Sudden the door leading to the Abbey unclosed, and He saw, attended by
a long train of Monks, the Preacher advance to whom He had just
listened with so much admiration. He drew near Antonia.

'And where is the Bridegroom?' said the imag