But nothing could equal the perplexity of the Friar, when Hippolita
confessed her readiness not to oppose the separation, and demanded his
opinion on the legality of her acquiescence. The Friar caught eagerly at
her request of his advice, and without explaining his aversion to the
proposed marriage of Manfred and Isabella, he painted to Hippolita in the
most alarming colours the sinfulness of her consent, denounced judgments
against her if she complied, and enjoined her in the severest terms to
treat any such proposition with every mark of indignation and refusal. Manfred, in the meantime, had broken his purpose to Frederic, and
proposed the double marriage. That weak Prince, who had been struck with
the charms of Matilda, listened but too eagerly to the offer. He forgot
his enmity to Manfred, whom he saw but little hope of dispossessing by
force; and flattering himself that no issue might succeed from the union
of his daughter with the tyrant, he looked upon his own succession to the
principality as facilitated by wedding Matilda. He made faint opposition
to the proposal; affecting, for form only, not to acquiesce unless
Hippolita should consent to the divorce. Manfred took that upon himself. Transported with his success, and impatient to see himself in a situation
to expect sons, he hastened to his wife’s apartment, determined to extort
her compliance. He learned with indignation that she was absent at the
convent. His guilt suggested to him that she had probably been informed
by Isabella of his purpose. He doubted whether her retirement to the
convent did not import an intention of remaining there, until she could
raise obstacles to their divorce; and the suspicions he had already
entertained of Jerome, made him apprehend that the Friar would not only
traverse his views, but might have inspired Hippolita with the resolution
of taking sanctuary. Impatient to unravel this clue, and to defeat its
success, Manfred hastened to the convent, and arrived there as the Friar
was earnestly exhorting the Princess never to yield to the divorce. “Madam,” said Manfred, “what business drew you hither? why did you not
await my return from the Marquis?”

“I came to implore a blessing on your councils,” replied Hippolita. “My councils do not need a Friar’s intervention,” said Manfred; “and of
all men living is that hoary traitor the only one whom you delight to
confer with?”

“Profane Prince!” said Jerome; “is it at the altar that thou choosest to
insult the servants of the altar?—but, Manfred, thy impious schemes are
known. Heaven and this virtuous lady know them—nay, frown not, Prince. The Church despises thy menaces. Her thunders will be heard above thy
wrath. Dare to proceed in thy cursed purpose of a divorce, until her
sentence be known, and here I lance her anathema at thy head.”

“Audacious rebel!” said Manfred, endeavouring to conceal the awe with
which the Friar’s words inspired him. “Dost thou presume to threaten thy
lawful Prince?”

“Thou art no lawful Prince,” said Jerome; “thou art no Prince—go, discuss
thy claim with Frederic; and when that is done—”

“It is done,” replied Manfred; “Frederic accepts Matilda’s hand, and is
content to waive his claim, unless I have no male issue”—as he spoke
those words three drops of blood fell from the nose of Alfonso’s statue. Manfred turned pale, and the Princess sank on her knees. “Behold!” said the Friar; “mark this miraculous indication that the blood
of Alfonso will never mix with that of Manfred!”

“My gracious Lord,” said Hippolita, “let us submit ourselves to heaven. Think not thy ever obedient wife rebels against thy authority. I have no
will but that of my Lord and the Church. To that revered tribunal let us
appeal. It does not depend on us to burst the bonds that unite us. If
the Church shall approve the dissolution of our marriage, be it so—I have
but few years, and those of sorrow, to pass. Where can they be worn away
so well as at the foot of this altar, in prayers for thine and Matilda’s
safety?”

“But thou shalt not remain here until then,” said Manfred. “Repair with
me to the castle, and there I will advise on the proper measures for a
divorce;—but this meddling Friar comes not thither; my hospitable roof
shall never more harbour a traitor—and for thy Reverence’s offspring,”
continued he, “I banish him from my dominions. He, I ween, is no sacred
personage, nor under the protection of the Church. Whoever weds
Isabella, it shall not be Father Falconara’s started-up son.”

“They start up,” said the Friar, “who are suddenly beheld in the seat of
lawful Princes; but they wither away like the grass, and their place
knows them no more.”

Manfred, casting a look of scorn at the Friar, led Hippolita forth; but
at the door of the church whispered one of his attendants to remain
concealed about the convent, and bring him instant notice, if any one
from the castle should repair thither. CHAPTER V.


Every reflection which Manfred made on the Friar’s behaviour, conspired
to persuade him that Jerome was privy to an amour between Isabella and
Theodore. But Jerome’s new presumption, so dissonant from his former
meekness, suggested still deeper apprehensions. The Prince even
suspected that the Friar depended on some secret support from Frederic,
whose arrival, coinciding with the novel appearance of Theodore, seemed
to bespeak a correspondence. Still more was he troubled with the
resemblance of Theodore to Alfonso’s portrait. The latter he knew had
unquestionably died without issue. Frederic had consented to bestow
Isabella on him. These contradictions agitated his mind with numberless
pangs. He saw but two methods of extricating himself from his difficulties. The
one was to resign his dominions to the Marquis—pride, ambition, and his
reliance on ancient prophecies, which had pointed out a possibility of
his preserving them to his posterity, combated that thought. The other
was to press his marriage with Isabella. After long ruminating on these
anxious thoughts, as he marched silently with Hippolita to the castle, he
at last discoursed with that Princess on the subject of his disquiet, and
used every insinuating and plausible argument to extract her consent to,
even her promise of promoting the divorce. Hippolita needed little
persuasions to bend her to his pleasure. She endeavoured to win him over
to the measure of resigning his dominions; but finding her exhortations
fruitless, she assured him, that as far as her conscience would allow,
she would raise no opposition to a separation, though without better
founded scruples than what he yet alleged, she would not engage to be
active in demanding it. This compliance, though inadequate, was sufficient to raise Manfred’s
hopes. He trusted that his power and wealth would easily advance his
suit at the court of Rome, whither he resolved to engage Frederic to take
a journey on purpose.