The Monk: Chapter 6 Summary & Analysis

If Matilda’s plan seemed sketchy before, it certainly seems sketchy now that she has explicitly forbidden Ambrosio from looking inside her basket. Matilda’s secrecy provides further evidence that she is calling on supernatural means—perhaps even sorcery—to reverse the effects of the snake’s poison and save her own life. Ambrosio’s failure to press Matilda about the specifics of her plan suggest that he’s willing to embrace a certain willful ignorance of sin if it means he can experience more sexual pleasure in the future. Little by little, he abandons any sense of shame or guilt he once felt about his sins. Meanwhile, the prioress and Mother Camilla’s conversation about Agnes seems to suggest that Agnes is not dead, as the prioress earlier claimed to Lorenzo. Still, the specifics of Agnes’s condition remain unclear at this point in the story. 

Matilda suggests that Ambrosio has only two options here: he can do the right thing and confront the prioress about her cruel treatment of Agnes, or he can protect his own reputation by not having a sudden change of heart about Agnes’s punishment, which (Matilda insists) may seem suspicious and alert the prioress to Ambrosio’s fall from grace. Ambrosio’s choice to protect himself over Agnes highlights his willingness to compromise his morals to protect his reputation.

The violent tremor, loud crack of thunder, and flash of lightning that Ambrosio witnesses while Matilda is in the crypt further suggest that her activities are supernatural or demonic in nature. Yet Ambrosio hardly argues when she expressly forbids him from mentioning “this night’s adventures” ever again. Once more, Ambrosio ignores his better judgment in pursuit of pleasure, signifying how far he has fallen since first breaking his vow of celibacy.

That Ambrosio continues to have sex with Matilda despite no longer having any romantic feelings for her underscores the degree to which his instinctual urge for sex—not his rational mind—drives his actions. This reinforces the book’s position that abstract moral frameworks are no match for human nature: time and again, the urge to satisfy his baser human instincts overpowers Ambrosio’s rational desire to uphold his religious obligations.

Ambrosio may have tired of Matilda, but the stirring that Antonia’s sweet voice inspires within him suggests that he has found a new young woman to lust after: Antonia. But traveling to Elvira’s apartment to pursue Antonia under the guise of acting as Elvira’s confessor creates a new obstacle for Ambrosio, as it requires him to leave the monastery, something he has vowed never to do.

Although Ambrosio convinces himself that he only has pure intentions for Antonia, the reader should recall how quickly he acquiesced to his urge to have sex with Matilda despite his initial confidence in his ability to ward off temptation. With this in mind, it seems more likely than not that his so-called love for Antonia will turn into base lust. Further supporting this prediction is Ambrosio’s decision to leave the monastery to serve as Elvira’s confessor, breaking yet another of his sacred vows. The blasphemous act of iconoclasm (that is, the destruction of a religious icon) that Ambrosio commits when he tears the Madona from the wall further demonstrates Ambrosio’s morally degraded state and hypocrisy.

A cowl is a loose hood or hooded robe worn by a monk. Ambrosio’s repurposing of this sacred garment to help him leave the monastery undetected, breaking one of his sacred vows, signals just how corrupt he has become since breaking his vow of celibacy to have sex with Matilda. Ambrosio’s cowl thus comes to symbolize his hypocrisy: though he maintains the outward appearance of a pious monk, he harbors secret sinful urges within himself. Leonella’s story is only a minor subplot, but it provides a key piece of information—Elvira’s failure to respond to Leonella’s letter—which will become important later on, so it's worth taking note of here. 

Ambrosio’s hypocrisy manifests in both his appearance and his behavior: he looks the part of the pious monk, and his attentiveness to Elvira’s confession further convinces Elvira of his great religious devotion—so much so that she willingly looks past his admission about breaking his vow to be with her today, something that might raise a red flag under different circumstances. The restraint that Ambrosio exercises here, enjoying a few moments of Antonia’s company but not coming on too strong, is further proof of his moral corruption, suggesting that he can control his urges when it’s in his best interest to do so. In other words, it’s not that his initial sin with Matilda has caused him to lose control: it’s simply taught him that he can sin and act selfishly if he’s careful not to alert anyone’s suspicions.   

Elvira and Antonia’s mutual agreement that there’s something familiar about Ambrosio builds intrigue, inviting the reader to speculate about whether the characters are indeed connected in some way that remains yet unknown. Notably, Ambrosio was found abandoned at the monastery when he was an infant—the same age that Elvira’s firstborn child, a son, was when she was forced to abandon him before fleeing to the Indies with her husband. Elvira’s father-in-law claimed that child died, but there’s no proof he was telling the truth. And as numerous events in the novel have already shown, things are often not quite as they seem, and so it’s often inadvisable to take people at their word.