She heard at last that he
had become a monk, and she presently came to seek him at Aylingford.
Dressed in a monk's gown, she asked for him. They met, and were
discovered by the Abbot just at the moment when she had almost persuaded
him to forsake his vows for love of her. Religion had claimed him
because a lie had deceived him, she argued; therefore no vow could
really bind him. She argued in this way with the Abbot, too, who was a
shrewd man and as cruel as death. The monk, he knew, was no longer a
monk at heart; the woman had penetrated into the Abbey under a false
guise--as a man. No punishment was too severe for such a sin, he said,
and he used religious arguments which could certainly never find an echo
in a merciful heaven. The woman was condemned and lowered into that
room--a nun by force--and there for thirteen years she existed. Once a
day sufficient food to keep her alive was given her through the trap, in
such a manner that she should see no one, and never a word was spoken.
The monk fought for her release in vain, and soon died, raving mad, it
is said. When the nun died, she was carried to the woods beyond the
stream and buried.
Pages:
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71