What was
his surprize, when the Thunder ceasing to roll, a full strain of
melodious Music sounded in the air. At the same time the cloud
dispersed, and He beheld a Figure more beautiful than Fancy's
pencil ever drew. It was a Youth seemingly scarce eighteen, the
perfection of whose form and face was unrivalled. He was
perfectly naked: A bright Star sparkled upon his forehead; Two
crimson wings extended themselves from his shoulders; and his
silken locks were confined by a band of many-coloured fires,
which played round his head, formed themselves into a variety of
figures, and shone with a brilliance far surpassing that of
precious Stones. Circlets of Diamonds were fastened round his
arms and ankles, and in his right hand He bore a silver branch,
imitating Myrtle. His form shone with dazzling glory: He was
surrounded by clouds of rose-coloured light, and at the moment
that He appeared, a refreshing air breathed perfumes through the
Cavern. Enchanted at a vision so contrary to his expectations,
Ambrosio gazed upon the Spirit with delight and wonder: Yet
however beautiful the Figure, He could not but remark a wildness
in the Daemon's eyes, and a mysterious melancholy impressed upon
his features, betraying the Fallen Angel, and inspiring the
Spectators with secret awe.
The Music ceased. Matilda addressed herself to the Spirit: She
spoke in a language unintelligible to the Monk, and was answered
in the same. She seemed to insist upon something which the
Daemon was unwilling to grant.
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