Lyre!
'Tis here that Beauty loves to rest:
Describe the pangs of fond desire,
Which rend a faithful Lover's breast.

Song

In every heart to find a Slave,
In every Soul to fix his reign,
In bonds to lead the wise and brave,
And make the Captives kiss his chain,
Such is the power of Love, and Oh!
I grieve so well Love's power to know.

In sighs to pass the live-long day,
To taste a short and broken sleep,
For one dear Object far away,
All others scorned, to watch and weep,
Such are the pains of Love, and Oh!
I grieve so well Love's pains to know!

To read consent in virgin eyes,
To press the lip ne'er prest till then
To hear the sigh of transport rise,
And kiss, and kiss, and kiss again,
Such are thy pleasures, Love, But Oh!
When shall my heart thy pleasures know?

Chorus

Now hush, my Lyre! My voice be still!
Sleep, gentle Maid! May fond desire
With amorous thoughts thy visions fill,
Though still my voice, and hushed my Lyre.

The Music ceased: The Performers dispersed, and silence prevailed
through the Street. Antonia quitted the window with regret: She as
usual recommended herself to the protection of St. Rosolia, said her
accustomed prayers, and retired to bed. Sleep was not long absent, and
his presence relieved her from her terrors and inquietude.

It was almost two o'clock before the lustful Monk ventured to bend his
steps towards Antonia's dwelling. It has been already mentioned that
the Abbey was at no great distance from the Strada di San Iago. He
reached the House unobserved. Here He stopped, and hesitated for a
moment. He reflected on the enormity of the crime, the consequences of
a discovery, and the probability, after what had passed, of Elvira's
suspecting him to be her Daughter's Ravisher: On the other hand it was
suggested that She could do no more than suspect; that no proofs of his
guilt could be produced; that it would seem impossible for the rape to
have been committed without Antonia's knowing when, where, or by whom;
and finally, He believed that his fame was too firmly established to be
shaken by the unsupported accusations of two unknown Women. This
latter argument was perfectly false: He knew not how uncertain is the
air of popular applause, and that a moment suffices to make him today
the detestation of the world, who yesterday was its Idol. The result
of the Monk's deliberations was that He should p