'I have received my death!' He replied in a faint voice;
'Concealed among the Roses . . . A Serpent. . . .'

Here the pain of his wound became so exquisite, that Nature was
unable to bear it: His senses abandoned him, and He sank
inanimate into Matilda's arms.

Her distress was beyond the power of description. She rent her
hair, beat her bosom, and not daring to quit Ambrosio,
endeavoured by loud cries to summon the Monks to her assistance.
She at length succeeded. Alarmed by her shrieks, Several of the
Brothers hastened to the spot, and the Superior was conveyed back
to the Abbey. He was immediately put to bed, and the Monk who
officiated as Surgeon to the Fraternity prepared to examine the
wound. By this time Ambrosio's hand had swelled to an
extraordinary size; The remedies which had been administered to
him, 'tis true, restored him to life, but not to his senses; He
raved in all the horrors of delirium, foamed at the mouth, and
four of the strongest Monks were scarcely able to hold him in his
bed.

Father Pablos, such was the Surgeon's name, hastened to examine
the wounded hand. The Monks surrounded the Bed, anxiously
waiting for the decision: Among these the feigned Rosario
appeared not the most insensible to the Friar's calamity. He
gazed upon the Sufferer with inexpressible anguish; and the
groans which every moment escaped from his bosom sufficiently
betrayed the violence of his affliction.