I grieve sincerely that I am obliged to conceal from you my happiness.

But I am not to blame: The fault lies not in me, but in yourself, my Ambrosio! You are still too much the Monk.

Your mind is enslaved by the prejudices of Education; And Superstition might make you shudder at the idea of that which experience has taught me to prize and value.

At present you are unfit to be trusted with a secret of such importance: But the strength of your judgment; and the curiosity which I rejoice to see sparkling in your eyes, makes me hope that you will one day deserve my confidence.
Till that period arrives, restrain your impatience.

Remember that you have given me your solemn oath never to enquire into this night's adventures.