roceed in his
enterprize. He ascended the steps leading to the House. No sooner did
He touch the door with the silver Myrtle, than it flew open, and
presented him with a free passage. He entered, and the door closed
after him of its own accord.

Guided by the moonbeams, He proceeded up the Staircase with slow and
cautious steps. He looked round him every moment with apprehension and
anxiety. He saw a Spy in every shadow, and heard a voice in every
murmur of the night breeze. Consciousness of the guilty business on
which He was employed appalled his heart, and rendered it more timid
than a Woman's. Yet still He proceeded. He reached the door of
Antonia's chamber. He stopped, and listened. All was hushed within.
The total silence persuaded him that his intended Victim was retired to
rest, and He ventured to lift up the Latch. The door was fastened, and
resisted his efforts: But no sooner was it touched by the Talisman,
than the Bolt flew back. The Ravisher stept on, and found himself in
the chamber, where slept the innocent Girl, unconscious how dangerous a
Visitor was drawing near her Couch. The door closed after him, and the
Bolt shot again into its fastening.

Ambrosio advanced with precaution. He took care that not a board
should creak under his foot, and held in his breath as He approached
the Bed. His first attention was to perform the magic ceremony, as
Matilda had charged him: He breathed thrice upon the silver Myrtle,
pronounced over it Antonia's name, and laid it upon her pillow. The
effects which it had already produced permitted not his doubting its
success in prolonging the slumbers of his devoted Mistress. No sooner
was the enchantment performed than He considered her to be absolutely
in his power, and his eyes flamed with lust and impatience. He now
ventured to cast a glance upon the sleeping Beauty. A single Lamp,
burning before the Statue of St. Rosolia, shed a faint light through
the room, and permitted him to examine all the charms of the lovely
Object before him. The heat of the weather had obliged her to throw
off part of the Bed-cloathes: Those which still covered her,
Ambrosio's insolent hand hastened to remove. She lay with her cheek
reclining upon one ivory arm; The Other rested on the side of the Bed
with graceful indolence. A few tresses of her hair had escaped from
beneath the Muslin which confined the rest, and fell carelessly over
her bosom, as it heaved with slow and