Chapter i.
Oswald awoke in Rome. His first looks were saluted by the brilliancy ofan Italian sun, and his soul was penetrated with a sentiment of love andgratitude towards that Power which seemed manifested in its resplendentbeams. He heard the bells of the different churches of the city; thefiring of cannon at intervals announced some great solemnity. Hedemanded the cause of it, and was informed that that morning was to becrowned, at the Capitol, the most celebrated woman in Italy. Corinne,poetess, writer, _improvisatrice_, and one of the greatest beauties ofRome. He made some enquiries respecting this ceremony consecrated by thenames of Petrarch and of Tasso, and all the answers that he receivedstrongly excited his curiosity.
There is certainly nothing more contrary to the habits and opinions ofan Englishman, than this great publicity given to the destiny of awoman; but even foreigners are affected, at least for a moment, withthat enthusiasm which is inspired in the Italians by all those talentsthat belong to the imagination, and they forget the prejudices of theircountry amidst a nation so warm in the expression of its feelings. Thecommon people of Rome reason with taste upon their statues, pictures,monuments and antiquities; and literary merit, carried to a certainpitch, excites in them a national interest.
Oswald quitted his lodgings to repair to the public square, where heheard everybody speaking of the genius and talents of Corinne. Thestreets through which she was to pass had been decorated; the people,who rarely assemble together except to pay their homage to fortune orpower, were, upon this occasion, almost in a tumult to behold a femalewhose mind was her only claim to distinction. In the actual state of theItalians the field of glory is only open to them in the fine arts, andthey possess a sensibility for genius in that department, which ought togive birth to great men, if applause alone were sufficient to producethem, if the stress of vigorous life, great interests and an independentexistence were not necessary to nourish thought.
Oswald walked the streets of Rome, waiting the arrival of Corinne. Atevery instant he heard her name accompanied with some anecdoteconcerning her, which implied the possession of all those talents thatcaptivate the imagination. One said that her voice was the most touchingin Italy; another, that nobody played tragedy like her; somebody else,that she danced like a nymph, and designed with as much taste asinvention: all said that nobody had ever written or improvised such fineverses, and that, in habitual conversation she possessed by turns, agrace and an eloquence which charmed every mind. Disputes were enteredinto as to what city of Rome had given her birth; but the Romansmaintained, warmly, that she must have been born in Rome to speakItalian in such purity as she did. No one was acquainted with her familyname. Her first work had appeared five years before, and only bore thename of Corinne; nobody knew where she had lived, nor what she had beenbefore that time: she was, however, nearly twenty-six years of age. Thismystery and publicity both at the same time, this woman of whomeverybody spoke, but whose real name was known to nobody, appeared toLord Nelville one of the wonders of the singular country he had justcome to live in. He would have judged very severely of such a woman inEngland, but he did not apply the usual etiquette of society to Italy,and the coronation of Corinne inspired him beforehand with that interestto which an adventure of Ariosto would give birth.
Very fine and brilliant music preceded the arrival of the triumphalprocession. Any event, whatever it may be, which is announced by music,always produces emotion. A great number of Roman Lords, and someforeigners, preceded the car of Corinne. "_That is the train of heradmirers!_" said a Roman. "_Yes_," replied the other, "_she receives theincense of everybody; but she grants nobody a decided preference: she isrich and independent; it is even believed, and certainly her appearancebespeaks it, that she is a woman of illustrious birth who desires toremain unknown_." "_Be it as it may_," replied a third, "_she is agoddess wrapt in a cloud_." Oswald looked at the man who spoke thus, andevery thing about him indicated that he belonged to the most obscurerank in society; but in the south people so naturally make use ofpoetical expressions, that one would say they were inhaled with the airand inspired by the sun.
At length way was made through the crowd for the four white horses thatdrew the car of Corinne. Corinne was seated in this car which wasconstructed upon an antique model, and young girls, dressed in white,walked on each side of her. Wherever she passed an abundance of perfumeswas thrown into the air; the windows, decorated with flowers and scarlettapestry, were crowded with spectators; every body cried, "_Long liveCorinne!_" "_Long live Genius and Beauty!_" The emotion was general butLord Nelville did not yet share it, and though he had observed in hisown mind that in order to judge of such a ceremony we must lay asidethe reserve of the English and the pleasantry of the French, he did notshare heartily in the _fete_ till at last he beheld Corinne.
_Corinne at the Capitol._]
She was dressed like the Sybil of Domenichino; an Indian shawl twistedabout her head, and her hair of the finest jet black, entwined with thisshawl; her dress was white, with blue drapery from her bosom downwards,and her costume was very picturesque, at the same time without departingso much from established modes as to savour of affectation. Her attitudeon the car was noble and modest: it was easily perceived that she waspleased with being admired, but a sense of timidity was mingled with herjoy, and seemed to ask pardon for her triumph. The expression of herphysiognomy, of her eyes, of her smile, interested all in her favour,and the first look made Lord Nelville her friend, even before thatsentiment was subdued by a warmer impression. Her arms were of dazzlingbeauty; her shape, tall, but rather full, after the manner of theGrecian statues, energetically characterised youth and happiness; andthere was something inspired in her look. One might perceive in hermanner of greeting and returning thanks for the applause which shereceived, a kind of disposition which heightened the lustre of theextraordinary situation in which she was placed. She gave at once theidea of a priestess of Apollo advancing towards the temple of the Sun,and of a woman of perfect simplicity in the common relations of life. Toconclude, in her every motion there was a charm which excited interest,curiosity, astonishment and affection. The admiration of the peopleincreased in proportion as she advanced towards the Capitol--that spotso fertile in memories. The beauty of the sky, the enthusiasm of theseRomans, and above all Corinne, electrified the imagination of Oswald. Hehad often, in his own country, seen statesmen carried in triumph by thepeople, but this was the first time he had been a witness of thehonours paid to a woman--a woman illustrious only by the gifts ofgenius. Her chariot of victory was not purchased at the cost of thetears of any human being, and no regret, no terror overshadowed thatadmiration which the highest endowments of nature, imagination,sentiment and mind, could not fail to excite.
Oswald was so absorbed in his reflections, so occupied by novel ideas,that he did not remark the antique and celebrated places through whichthe car of Corinne passed. It was at the foot of the flight of stepswhich leads to the Capitol, that the car stopped, and at that moment allthe friends of Corinne rushed forward to offer her their hands. Shechose that of the prince Castel-Forte, the most esteemed of the Romannobility, for his intellect and for his disposition: every one approvedthe choice of Corinne, and she ascended the steps of the Capitol whoseimposing majesty seemed to receive, with kind condescension, the lightfootsteps of a woman. A new flourish of music was heard at the moment ofCorinne's arrival, the cannon resounded and the triumphant Sybil enteredthe palace prepared for her reception.
At the lower end of the hall in which she was received were placed thesenator who was to crown her, and the conservators of the senate; on oneside all the cardinals and the most distinguished women of the country;on the other the men of letters of the academy of Rome; and at theopposite extremity the hall was occupied by a part of the immense crowdwho had followed Corinne. The chair destined for her was placed a stepbelow that of the senator. Corinne, before she seated herself in it,made a genuflection on the first step, agreeably to the etiquetterequired in this august assembly. She d
id it with so much nobleness andmodesty, so much gentleness and dignity, that Lord Nelville in thatmoment felt his eyes moist with tears: he was astonished at his owntenderness, but in the midst of all her pomp and triumph it seemed tohim that Corinne had implored, by her looks, the protection of afriend--that protection which no woman, however superior, can dispensewith; and how sweet, said he within himself, would it be to become thesupport of her to whom sensibility alone renders that support necessary.
As soon as Corinne was seated the Roman poets began to read the sonnetsand odes which they had composed for the occasion. They all exalted herto the skies, but the praises which they lavishly bestowed upon her didnot draw any characteristic features of distinction between her andother women of superior talents. They were only pleasing combinations ofimages, and allusions to mythology, which might, from the days of Sapphoto those in which we live, have been addressed indiscriminately to anywoman who had rendered herself illustrious by her literary talents.
Already Lord Nelville felt hurt at this manner of praising Corinne; hethought, in beholding her, that he could at that very instant draw aportrait of her, more true, more just, more characteristic--a portraitin fact that could only belong to Corinne.