Try it, my father,
if you want rest; but to make the experiment sure, were it not best to
try it first on another?” The Superior nodded, and the party were about
to disperse, when the Superior caught the old monk by his habit, and
whispered, “But no murder!”--“Oh no! only profound sleep.--What matter
when he wakes? It must be to suffering in this life or the next. _We_
are not guilty in the business. What signifies a few moments sooner or
later?” The Superior was of a timid and passionate character. He still
kept hold of the monk’s habit;--he whispered, “But it must not be
known.”--“But who can know it?” At this moment the clock struck, and an
old ascetic monk, who occupied a cell adjacent to the Superior’s, and
who had accustomed himself to the exclamation, “God knoweth all things,”
whenever the clock struck, repeated it aloud. The Superior quitted his
hold of the monk’s habit,--the monk crawled to his cell _God-struck_, if
I may use the expression,--the laudanum was not administered that
night,--the voice did not return,--I slept the entire night, and the
whole convent was delivered from the harassings of the infernal spirit. Alas! none haunted it, but that spirit which the natural _malignity of
solitude_ raises within the circle of every heart, and forces us, from
the terrible economy of misery, to feed on the vitals of others, that we
may spare our own. “This conversation was repeated to me afterwards by a monk who was on
his dying bed. He had witnessed it, and I have no reason to doubt his
sincerity. In fact, I always considered it as rather a palliation than
an aggravation of their cruelty to me. They had made me suffer worse
than many deaths,--the single suffering would have been
instantaneous,--the single act would have been mercy. The next day the
visit of the Bishop was expected. There was an indescribable kind of
terrified preparation among the community. This house was the first in
Madrid, and the singular circumstance of the son of one of the highest
families in Spain having entered it in early youth,--having protested
against his vows in a few months,--having been accused of being in a
compact with the infernal spirit a few weeks after,--the hope of a scene
of exorcism,--the doubt of the success of my appeal,--the probable
interference of the Inquisition,--the _possible_ festival of an auto da
fe,--had set the imagination of all Madrid on fire; and never did an
audience long more for the drawing up of the curtain at a popular opera,
than the religious and irreligious of Madrid did for the developement of
the scene which was acting at the convent of the Ex-Jesuits. “In Catholic countries, Sir, religion is the national drama; the priests
are the principal performers, the populace the audience; and whether the
piece concludes with a “Don Giovanni” plunging in flames, or the
beatification of a saint, the applause and the enjoyment is the same. “I feared my destiny was to be the former. I knew nothing of the Bishop,
and hoped nothing from his visit; but my hopes began to rise in
proportion to the visible fears of the society. I argued, with the
natural malignity of wretchedness, “If they tremble, I may exult.” When
suffering is thus weighed against suffering, the hand is never steady;
we are always disposed to make the balance incline a little on our own
side. The Bishop came early, and passed some hours with the Superior in
his own apartment. During this interval, there was a stillness in the
house that was strongly contrasted with its previous agitation. I stood
alone in my cell,--_stood_, for I had no seat left me. I said to myself,
“This event bodes neither good or evil to me. I am not guilty of what
they accuse me of. They never can prove it,--an accomplice with
Satan!--the victim of diabolical delusion!--Alas! my only crime is my
involuntary subjection to the delusions they have practised on me. This
man, this Bishop, cannot give me freedom, but he may at least do me
justice.” All this time the community were in a fever--the character of
the house was at stake--my situation was notorious. They had laboured to
represent me as a possessed being beyond their walls, and to _make_ me
appear as one within them. The hour of trial approached. For the honour
of human nature,--from the dread of violating decency,--from the dread
of apparently violating truth, I will not attempt to relate the means
they had recourse to the morning of the Bishop’s visitation, to qualify
me to perform the part of a possessed, insane, and blasphemous wretch. The four monks I have before mentioned, were the principal executioners,
(I must call them so).--Under pretence that there was no part of my
person which was not under the influence of the demon, * * * * * * *

“This was not enough. I was deluged almost to suffocation with
aspersions of holy water. Then followed, &c. * * * * *

“The result was, that I remained half-naked, half-drowned, gasping,
choaking, and delirious with rage, shame, and fear, when I was summoned
to attend the Bishop, who, surrounded by the Superior and the community,
awaited me in the church. This was the moment they had fixed on--I
yielded myself to them. I said, stretching out my arms, “Yes, drag me
naked, mad--religion and nature alike violated in my abused
figure--before your Bishop. If he speaks truth,--if he feels
conscience,--woe be to you, hypocritical, tyrannical wretches. You have
half-driven me mad!--half-murdered me, by the unnatural cruelties you
have exercised on me!--and in this state you drag me before the Bishop! Be it so, I must follow you.” As I uttered these words, they bound my
arms and legs with ropes, carried me down, and placed me at the door of
the church, standing close to me. The Bishop was at the altar, the
Superior near him; the community filled the choir. They flung me down
like a heap of carrion, and retreated as if they fled from the pollution
of my touch. This sight struck the Bishop: He said, in a loud voice,
“Rise, _unhappy_, and come forward.” I answered, in a voice whose tones
appeared to thrill him, “Bid them unbind me, and I will obey you.” The
Bishop turned a cold and yet indignant look on the Superior, who
immediately approached and whispered him. This whispering consultation
was carried on for some time; but, though lying on the ground, I could
perceive the Bishop shook his head at every whisper of the Superior; and
the end of the business was an order to unbind me. I did not fare much
the better for this order, for the four monks were still close to me. They held my arms as they led me up the steps to the altar. I was then,
for the first time, placed opposite to the Bishop. He was a man, the
effect of whose physiognomy was as indelible as that of his
character.--The one left its impress on the senses, as strongly as the
other did on the soul. He was tall, majestic, and hoary; not a feeling
agitated his frame--not a passion had left its trace on his features.