It pierced deep, and was instantly filled with blood; Yet Ambrosio felt no pain from the wound.

The Pen was put into his hand: It trembled.

The Wretch placed the Parchment on the Table before him, and prepared to sign it.

Suddenly He held his hand: He started away hastily, and threw the Pen upon the table.
'What am I doing ?' He cried--Then turning to the Fiend with a desperate air, 'Leave me! Begone! I will not sign the Parchment.' 'Fool!' exclaimed the disappointed Daemon, darting looks so furious as penetrated the Friar's soul with horror; 'Thus am I trifled with?
Go then! Rave in agony, expire in tortures, and then learn the extent of the Eternal's mercy! But beware how you make me again your mock! Call me no more till resolved to accept my offers! Summon me a second time to dismiss me thus idly, and these Talons shall rend you into a thousand pieces! Speak yet again; Will you sign the Parchment ?' 'I will not! Leave me! Away!' Instantly the Thunder was heard to roll horribly: Once more the earth trembled with violence: The Dungeon resounded with loud shrieks, and the Daemon fled with blasphemy and curses.
At first, the Monk rejoiced at having resisted the Seducer's arts, and obtained a triumph over Mankind's Enemy: But as the hour of punishment drew near, his former terrors revived in his heart.

Their momentary repose seemed to have given them fresh vigour.