Manfred now devised a scheme for uniting the two houses by proposing the marriage of Matilda to Frederic, while he himself should divorce Hippolita and marry Isabella.  When he broke his purpose to Frederic, that weak Prince, who had been struck with the charms of Matilda, listened but too eagerly to the offer.  But he wished to find the disposition of Hippolita in the affair, and sought her apartments.  He found them empty; and concluding that she was in her oratory, he passed on.  On entering, he saw a person kneeling before the altar; not a woman, but one in a long woollen weed, whose back was towards him.

“Reverend father,” said Frederic, meaning to excuse his interruption, “I sought the lady Hippolita.”

“Hippolita!” replied a hollow voice; and then the figure, turning slowly round, discovered to Frederic the fleshless jaws and empty sockets of a skeleton, wrapped in a hermit’s cowl.

“Angels of grace, protect me!” cried Frederic, recoiling.

“Deserve their protection!” said the spectre.  “Remember the wood of Joppa!”

“Art thou that holy hermit?” asked Frederic, trembling.  “What is thy errand to me?”

“Forget Matilda!” said the apparition—­and vanished.

For some minutes Frederic remained motionless, his blood frozen in his veins.  Then, falling before the altar, he besought the intercession of every saint for pardon.

On that night Matilda, whose passion for Theodore had increased, and who abhorred her father’s purpose of marrying her to Frederic, had by chance met her lover as he was kneeling at the tomb of Alfonso in the great church.  Manfred was told by the domestic that Theodore and some lady from the castle were in private conference at the tomb.  Concluding in his jealousy that the lady was Isabella, he hastened secretly to the church.

The first sounds he could distinguish in the darkness were, “Does it, alas! depend on me?  Manfred will never permit our union—­”

“No, this shall prevent it!” cried the tyrant, plunging his dagger into the bosom of the woman that spoke.

“Inhuman monster!” cried Theodore, rushing on him.

“Stop! stop!” cried Matilda, “it is my father!”

Manfred, waking as from a trance, beat his breast and twisted his hands in his locks.  Theodore’s cries quickly drew some monks to his aid, among them Father Jerome.

“Now, tyrant,” said Jerome, “behold the completion of woe fulfilled on thy impious head!”

“Cruel man!” cried Matilda, “to aggravate the woes of a parent!”

“Oh, Matilda,” said Manfred, “I took thee for Isabella.  Oh, canst thou forgive the blindness of my rage?”

“I can, and do,” answered Matilda, “and may heaven confirm it!”

Matilda was carried back to the castle; and Hippolita, when she saw the afflicted procession, ran weeping to her daughter, whose hands the agonized Theodore covered with a thousand kisses.