Explore "The Mysteries of Udolpho" by Ann Radcliffe on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In truth he was a strange and wayward wight, / Fond of each gentle, and each dreadful scene, / In darkness, and in storm he found delight; / Nor less than when on ocean-wave serene / The southern sun diffus'd his dazzling sheen. / Even sad vicissitude amus'd his soul; / And if a sigh would sometimes intervene, / And down his cheek a tear of pity roll, / A sigh, a tear, so sweet, he wish'd not to control. / - The Minstrel
St. Aubert awoke at an early hour, refreshed by sleep, and desirous to set forward. He invited the stranger to breakfast with him; and, talking again of the road, Valancourt said, that, some months past, he had travelled as far as Beaujeu, which was a town of some consequence on the way to Rousillon. He recommended it to St. Aubert to take that route, and the latter determined to do so.