rectitude. No, Ambrosio, learn to know me better. I love you
for your virtues: Lose them, and with them you lose my
affections. I look upon you as a Saint; Prove to me that you are
no more than Man, and I quit you with disgust. Is it then from
me that you fear temptation? From me, in whom the world's
dazzling pleasures created no other sentiment than contempt?
From me, whose attachment is grounded on your exemption from
human frailty? Oh! dismiss such injurious apprehensions! Think
nobler of me, think nobler of yourself. I am incapable of
seducing you to error; and surely your Virtue is established on a
basis too firm to be shaken by unwarranted desires. Ambrosio,
dearest Ambrosio! drive me not from your presence; Remember your
promise, and authorize my stay!'

'Impossible, Matilda; YOUR interest commands me to refuse your
prayer, since I tremble for you, not for myself. After
vanquishing the impetuous ebullitions of Youth; After passing
thirty years in mortification and penance, I might safely permit
your stay, nor fear your inspiring me with warmer sentiments than
pity. But to yourself, remaining in the Abbey can produce none
but fatal consequences. You will misconstrue my every word and
action; You will seize every circumstance with avidity, which
encourages you to hope the return of your affection; Insensibly
your passions will gain a superiority over your reason; and far
from these being repressed by my presence, every moment which we
pass together, will only serve to irritate and excite them.
Believe me, unhappy Woman! you possess my sincere compassion. I
am convinced that you have hitherto acted upon the purest
motives; But though you are blind to the imprudence of your
conduct, in me it would be culpable not to open your eyes. I