objects. Matilda stood before him in his dreams, and his eyes
again dwelt upon her naked breast. She repeated her
protestations of eternal love, threw her arms round his neck, and
loaded him with kisses: He returned them; He clasped her
passionately to his bosom, and . . . the vision was dissolved.
Sometimes his dreams presented the image of his favourite Madona,
and He fancied that He was kneeling before her: As He offered up
his vows to her, the eyes of the Figure seemed to beam on him
with inexpressible sweetness. He pressed his lips to hers, and
found them warm: The animated form started from the Canvas,
embraced him affectionately, and his senses were unable to
support delight so exquisite. Such were the scenes, on which his
thoughts were employed while sleeping: His unsatisfied Desires
placed before him the most lustful and provoking Images, and he
rioted in joys till then unknown to him.

He started from his Couch, filled with confusion at the
remembrance of his dreams. Scarcely was He less ashamed, when He
reflected on his reasons of the former night which induced him
to authorize Matilda's stay. The cloud was now dissipated which
had obscured his judgment: He shuddered when He beheld his
arguments blazoned in their proper colours, and found that He had
been a slave to flattery, to avarice, and self-love. If in one
hour's conversation Matilda had produced a change so remarkable
in his sentiments, what had He not to dread from her remaining in
the Abbey? Become sensible of his danger, awakened from his
dream of confidence, He resolved to insist on her departing
without delay. He began to feel that He was not proof against
temptation; and that however Matilda might restrain herself
within the bounds of modesty, He was unable to contend with those