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53 - Melmoth The Wanderer by Charles Robert Maturin · Melmoth The Wanderer

• 0:03
  Speaker 1: Fear not now the fever's fire. Fear not now the
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  Speaker 1: death bed groan pangs, the torture pains, the tire bedrid
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  Speaker 1: age with feeble moan mation. The first examination of Isidora
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  Speaker 1: was conducted with the circumspective formality that has always been
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  Speaker 1: known to mark the proceedings of that tribunal. The second
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  Speaker 1: and the third were alike, strict, penetrating and inoperative, and
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  Speaker 1: the Holy Office began to feel its higher functionerers were
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  Speaker 1: no match for the extraordinary prisoner who stood before them, who,
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  Speaker 1: combining the extremes of simplicity and magnanimity, uttered everything that
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  Speaker 1: might criminate herself, but evaded with skill that baffled all
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  Speaker 1: the arts of inquisitorial examination. Every question that referred to Melmouth.
• 1:04
  Speaker 1: In the course of the first examination, they hinted at
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  Speaker 1: the torture. Isidorer, with something of the free and natured
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  Speaker 1: toor dignity of her early existence, smiled as they spoke
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  Speaker 1: of it. An official whispered one of the inquisitors as
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  Speaker 1: he observed the peculiar expression of her countenance, and the
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  Speaker 1: torture was mentioned no more. A second a third examination
• 1:33
  Speaker 1: followed at long intervals, but it was observed that every
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  Speaker 1: time the mode of examination was less severe, and the
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  Speaker 1: treatment of the prisoner more and more indulgent. Her youth,
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  Speaker 1: her beauty, her profound simplicity of character and language developed
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  Speaker 1: strongly on this singular emergency, and the affecting circumstance of
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  Speaker 1: her always appearing with her child in her arms, whose
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  Speaker 1: feeble cries she tried to hush while she bent forward
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  Speaker 1: to hear and answer the questions addressed to her. All
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  Speaker 1: these seemed to have wrought powerfully on the minds of
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  Speaker 1: men not accustomed to yield the external impressions. There was
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  Speaker 1: also a docility, a submission about this beautiful and unfortunate being,
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  Speaker 1: a contrite and bending spirit, a sense of wretchedness for
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  Speaker 1: the misfortunes of her family, a consciousness of her own
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  Speaker 1: that touched the hearts even of inquisitors. After repeated examinations,
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  Speaker 1: when nothing could be extorted from the prisoner, a skillful
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  Speaker 1: and profound artist in the school of mental anatomy whispered
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  Speaker 1: to the inquisitor, as something about the infant whom she
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  Speaker 1: held in her arms, she has defied the rack was
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  Speaker 1: the answer. Try her on that rack was rejoined, and
• 3:03
  Speaker 1: the hint was taken. After the usual formalities were gone through,
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  Speaker 1: Isidora's sentence was read to her. She was condemned as
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  Speaker 1: a suspected heretic to perpetual confinement in the prison of
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  Speaker 1: the Inquisition. Her child was to be taken from her
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  Speaker 1: and brought up an accumvent in order to hear. The
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  Speaker 1: reading of the sentence was interrupted by the prisoner, who,
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  Speaker 1: uttering one dreadful shriek of maternal agony louder than any
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  Speaker 1: other mode of torture had ever before extorted, fell prostrate
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  Speaker 1: on the floor. When she was restored to sensation, no
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  Speaker 1: authority or terror of the place or the judges could
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  Speaker 1: prevent her pouring forth those wild and piercing supplications, which,
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  Speaker 1: from the energy with which they are uttered, appear to
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  Speaker 1: the speaker himself like commands. That the latter part of
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  Speaker 1: her sentence might be remitted. The former appeared to make
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  Speaker 1: not the least impression on her. Eternal solitude, passed in
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  Speaker 1: eternal darkness, seemed to give her neither fear or pain,
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  Speaker 1: But she wept and pleaded and raved that she might
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  Speaker 1: not be separated from her infant. The judges listened with
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  Speaker 1: fortified hearts, and in unbroken silence. When she found all
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  Speaker 1: was over, she rose from her posture of humiliation and agony,
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  Speaker 1: and there was something even of dignity about it, as
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  Speaker 1: she demanded in a calm and altered voice, that her
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  Speaker 1: child might not be removed from her till the following day.
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  Speaker 1: She had also self possession enough to enforce her petition
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  Speaker 1: by the remark that its life might be the sacrifice
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  Speaker 1: if it was too suddenly deprived of the nourishment it
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  Speaker 1: was accustomed to receive from her. To this request, the
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  Speaker 1: judges acces, and she was remanded to her cell. The
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  Speaker 1: time elapsed, The person who brought her food departed without
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  Speaker 1: uttering a word, nor did she utter a word to him.
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  Speaker 1: It was about midnight that the door of her cell
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  Speaker 1: was unlocked, and two persons in official habits appeared at it.
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  Speaker 1: They seemed to pause like the heralds of the Tent
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  Speaker 1: of Achilles, and then, like them, forced themselves to enter.
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  Speaker 1: These men had haggard and livid faces. Their attitudes were
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  Speaker 1: perfectly stony and automaton like. Their movements appeared the result
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  Speaker 1: of mere mechanism. Yet these men were touched. The miserable
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  Speaker 1: light within hardly showed the palette on which the prisoner
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  Speaker 1: was seated, but a strong red light from the torch
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  Speaker 1: the attendant held flared broadly on the arch of the
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  Speaker 1: door under which the figures appeared. They approached with a
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  Speaker 1: motion that seemed simultaneous and involuntary, and uttered together in
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  Speaker 1: accents that seemed to issue from one mouth. Deliver your
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  Speaker 1: child to us. In a voice as hoarse, dry and
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  Speaker 1: natural as the prisoner answered, take it. The men looked
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  Speaker 1: about the cell. It seemed as if they knew not
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  Speaker 1: where to find the offspring of humanity. Amid the cells
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  Speaker 1: of the inquisition. The prisoner was silent and motionless during
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  Speaker 1: their search. It was not long. The narrow apartment, the
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  Speaker 1: scanty furniture afforded little room for the investigation. When it
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  Speaker 1: was concluded, however, the prisoner, bursting into a wild laugh, exclaimed,
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  Speaker 1: where would you such for a child? But in its
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  Speaker 1: mother's bosom. Here here it is, Take it, Take it?
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  Speaker 1: And she put it into their hands. Oh what fools
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  Speaker 1: ye were to seek my child anywhere but on its
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  Speaker 1: mother's bosom. It is yours now, she shrieked, in a
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  Speaker 1: voice that froze The officials Take take it from me.
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  Speaker 1: The agents of the Holy Office advanced, and the technicality
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  Speaker 1: of their movements was somewhat suspended. When Isidora placed in
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  Speaker 1: their hands the course of her infant daughter around the
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  Speaker 1: throat of the miserable infant, born amid agony and nursed
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  Speaker 1: in the dungeon. There was a black mark which the
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  Speaker 1: officials made their use of in representing this extraordinary circumstance
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  Speaker 1: to the Holy Office. By some it was deemed as
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  Speaker 1: the sign impressed by the evil One at its birth,
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  Speaker 1: by others as the fearful effect of maternal despair. It
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  Speaker 1: was determined that the prisoner should appear before them within
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  Speaker 1: four and twenty hours and account for the death of
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  Speaker 1: her child within less than half that number of hours.
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  Speaker 1: A mighty arm than that of the Inquisition was dealing
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  Speaker 1: with the prisoner, an arm that seemed to menace, but
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  Speaker 1: was indeed stretched out to save, and before whose touch
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  Speaker 1: the barriers of the dreaded Inquisition itself were as frail
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  Speaker 1: as the fortress of the spider who hung her web
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  Speaker 1: on its walls. As the Dora was dying of a disease,
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  Speaker 1: not the less mortal, because it makes no appearance in
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  Speaker 1: an obituary. She was dying of that internal and incurable wound,
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  Speaker 1: a broken heart. When the inquisitors were at last convinced
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  Speaker 1: that there was nothing more to be obtained by torture,
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  Speaker 1: bodily or mental torture, they suffered her to die unmolested,
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  Speaker 1: and granted her last request that for our io say,
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  Speaker 1: it might be permitted to visit her. It was midnight,
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  Speaker 1: but its approach was unknown. In that place where day
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  Speaker 1: and night are the same, A dim lamp was substituted
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  Speaker 1: for that weak and struggling beam that counterfeited daylight. The
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  Speaker 1: penitent was stretched on her bed of rest. The humane
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  Speaker 1: priest sat beside her, and if his presence gave no
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  Speaker 1: dignity to the scene, it at least softened it by
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  Speaker 1: the touches of humanity. My father said, the dying Isidorer.
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  Speaker 1: You pronounced me forgiven. Yes, my daughter, said the priest.
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  Speaker 1: You have assured me you are innocent of the death
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  Speaker 1: of your infant. You never could have believed me guilty,
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  Speaker 1: said Isidora, raising herself on her palette at the appeal.
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  Speaker 1: The consciousness of its existence alone would have kept me alive,
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  Speaker 1: even in my prison. Oh, my father, how is it
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  Speaker 1: possible it could live? Buried? With me in this dreadful place.
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  Speaker 1: Almost as soon as it respired, even the morbid nourishment
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  Speaker 1: it received from me was dried up. When my sentence
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  Speaker 1: was read, it moaned all night. Towards morning, its moans
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  Speaker 1: grew fainter, and I was glad at last they ceased,
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  Speaker 1: and I was very happy. But as she talked of
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  Speaker 1: this fearful happiness, she wept, My daughter, is your heart
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  Speaker 1: disengaged from that awful and disastrous tie that bounded to
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  Speaker 1: misfortune here and to petition Hereafter? It was long before
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  Speaker 1: she could answer at length, she said, in a broken voice,
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  Speaker 1: My father, I have not now strength to search or
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  Speaker 1: to struggle with my heart. Death must very soon break
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  Speaker 1: every tie that was twined with it, and it is
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  Speaker 1: useless to anticipate my liberation. The effort would be agony,
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  Speaker 1: fruitless agony. For while I live, I must love my destroyer,
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  Speaker 1: alas in being the enemy of mankind, was not his
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  Speaker 1: hostility to me inevitable and fatal. In rejecting his last
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  Speaker 1: terrible temptation, in resigning him to his destiny and preferring
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  Speaker 1: submission to my own, I feel my triumph complete and
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  Speaker 1: my salvation assured. Daughter, I do not comprehend you, Melmov,
• 11:52
  Speaker 1: said Isidora, with a strong effort. Melmov was here last night,
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  Speaker 1: within the walls of the Inquisition, within this very cell.
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  Speaker 1: The priest crossed himself with marks of the profoundest horror,
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  Speaker 1: and as the wind swept hollowly through the long passage,
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  Speaker 1: almost expected the shaken door would burst open and disclose
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  Speaker 1: the figure of the wanderer. My father, I have had
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  Speaker 1: many dreams, answered the penitent, shaking her head at a
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  Speaker 1: suggestion of the priests, many many wanderings. But this was
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  Speaker 1: no dream. I have dreamed of the garden land where
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  Speaker 1: I beheld him first. I have dreamed of the nights
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  Speaker 1: when he stood at my casement and trembled in sleep
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  Speaker 1: at the sound of my mother's step. And I have
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  Speaker 1: had holy and hopeful visions in which celestial forms appeared
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  Speaker 1: to me and promised me his conversion. But this was
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  Speaker 1: no dream. I saw him last night, Father, He was
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  Speaker 1: here the whole night, he promised, he assured me. He
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  Speaker 1: adjured me to accept of liberation and safety of life,
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  Speaker 1: and of felicity, he told me. Nor could I durtem
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  Speaker 1: that by whatever means he affected his entrance, he could
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  Speaker 1: also effect my escape. He offered to live with me
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  Speaker 1: in that Indian isle, that paradise of ocean, far from
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  Speaker 1: human resort or human persecution. He offered to love me
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  Speaker 1: alone and for ever. And then I listened to him, Oh,
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  Speaker 1: my father, I am very young, and life and love
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  Speaker 1: sounded sweetly in my ears when I looked at my
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  Speaker 1: dungeon and thought of dying on this floor of stone.
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  Speaker 1: But when he whispered the terrible condition on which the
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  Speaker 1: fulfillment of his promise depended, when he told me that
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  Speaker 1: her voice failed, with her failing strength, than she could
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  Speaker 1: utter no more, daughter, said the priest, bending over her bed. Daughter.
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  Speaker 1: I adjure you by the image represented on this cross.
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  Speaker 1: I hold to your dying lips, by your hopes of
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  Speaker 1: that salvation which depends upon the truth you uttered to me,
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  Speaker 1: your priest and your friend, the conditions proposed by your tempter.
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  Speaker 1: Promise me absolution for repeating the words, for I should
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  Speaker 1: wish that my last breath might not be exhaled in
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  Speaker 1: uttering what I must te absolvo et cetera, said the priest,
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  Speaker 1: and bent his ear to catch the sands. The moment
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  Speaker 1: they were uttered, he started as from the sting of
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  Speaker 1: a serpent, and seating himself at the extremity of the cell,
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  Speaker 1: rocked in dumb horror. My father, you promised me absolution,
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  Speaker 1: said the pennetin and Y M T B D D.
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  Speaker 1: Maribunda answered the priest in the confusion of thoughts, using
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  Speaker 1: the language appropriated to the service of religion. Maribunda indeed,
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  Speaker 1: said the sufferer, falling back on her palate, Father, let
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  Speaker 1: me feel a human hand in mine as I part
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  Speaker 1: call upon God, daughter, said the priest, applying the crucifix
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  Speaker 1: to her cold lips. I loved his religion, said the penitent,
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  Speaker 1: kissing it devoutly. I loved it before I knew it.
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  Speaker 1: And God must have been my teacher, for I had
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  Speaker 1: no other, Oh, she exclaimed, with that deep conviction that
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  Speaker 1: must thrill every dying heart. And whose echo would God
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  Speaker 1: might pierce every living one? Oh that I had loved
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  Speaker 1: none but God, How profound would have been my peace?
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  Speaker 1: How glorious my departure? Now his image assumes me even
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  Speaker 1: to the brink of the grave into which I plunge
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  Speaker 1: to escape it, My daughter, said the priest, while the
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  Speaker 1: tears rolled fast down his cheeks. My daughter, who are
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  Speaker 1: passing to bliss. The conflict was fierce and short, but
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  Speaker 1: the victory is sure. Harps are tuned to a new song,
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  Speaker 1: even a song of welcome, and wreaths of palm are
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  Speaker 1: weaving for you in paradise. Paradise, added Isidora, with her
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  Speaker 1: last breath, will ye be there? End of Chapter thirty seven.