Chapter i.
A fortnight passed away, during which Lord Nelville dedicated himselfentirely to the society of Corinne. He quitted his lodgings but to goand visit her--he saw nothing--he sought nothing but her; and, withoutever mentioning his passion, he made her sensible of it at every momentof the day. She was accustomed to the lively and flattering homage ofthe Italians; but Oswald's dignity of manners, his apparent coldness,and the sensibility which he betrayed in spite of himself, produced amore powerful effect upon her imagination.--Never did he relate agenerous action, never did he speak of a misfortune, without his eyesbeing filled with tears; but he always endeavoured to conceal hisemotion. He inspired Corinne with a sentiment of respect such as she hadnot felt for a long time before. No wit, however sparkling, could dazzleher; but she was deeply interested by elevation and dignity ofcharacter. Lord Nelville joined to these qualities, a nobleness in hisexpressions, an elegance in the least actions of his life, which formeda striking contrast to the negligence and familiarity of the greaterpart of the Roman nobility.
Though the tastes of Oswald were in some respects different from thoseof Corinne, they mutually understood each other in a most wonderfulmanner. Nelville conjectured the impressions of Corinne with perfectsagacity, and Corinne discovered, in the slightest alteration ofNelville's countenance, what passed in his mind. Accustomed to thestormy demonstrations of passion that characterise the Italians, thistimid but proud attachment, this passion, incessantly proved, but neveravowed, spread a new charm over her existence: she felt as if encircledwith a calmer and purer atmosphere, and every instant of the dayinspired her with a sentiment of happiness which she loved to enjoywithout accounting for it.
One morning Prince Castel-Forte visited her--he appeared sorrowful--sheasked him the cause of his sorrow. "This Scotsman," said he to her, "isabout to deprive us of your affections; and who knows even, whether hewill not rob us of you entirely?" Corinne was silent for some moments,and then answered, "I assure you he has not even once told me that heloved me." "You are, notwithstanding, convinced of it," answered PrinceCastel-Forte; "his conduct is sufficiently eloquent, and even hissilence is a powerful means of interesting you.--What can languageexpress that you have not heard? What kind of praise is there that hasnot been offered you? What species of homage is there that you are notaccustomed to receive? But there is something concealed in the characterof Lord Nelville which will never allow you to know him entirely as youknow us. There is no person in the world whose character is more easythan yours to become acquainted with; but it is precisely because youshew yourself without disguise that mystery and reserve have a pleasingascendancy over you. That which is unknown, be it what it may,influences you more strongly than all the sentiments which aremanifested to you." Corinne smiled; "You believe then, my dear Prince,"said she, "that my heart is ungrateful, and my imagination capricious.Methinks however that Lord Nelville possesses and displays qualitiessufficiently remarkable to render it impossible that I can flattermyself with having discovered them." "He is, I agree," answered PrinceCastel-Forte, "proud, generous and intelligent; with much sensibilitytoo, and particularly melancholy; but I am very much deceived, or thereis not the least sympathy of taste between you. You do not perceive itwhile he is under the charm of your presence, but your empire over himwould not hold if he were absent from you. Obstacles would fatigue him;his soul has contracted by the grief which he has experienced, a kind ofdiscouragement, which must destroy the energy of his resolutions; andyou know, besides, how much the English in general are enslaved to themanners and habits of their country."
At these words Corinne was silent and sighed. Painful reflections on thefirst events of her life were retraced in her mind; but in the eveningshe saw Oswald again, more her slave than ever; and all that remained inher mind of the conversation of Prince Castel-Forte was the desire offixing Lord Nelville in Italy by making him enamoured of the beauties ofevery kind with which that country abounds. It was with this intentionthat she wrote to him the following letter. The freedom of the lifewhich is led in Rome excused this proceeding, and Corinne in particular,though she might be reproached with too much openness and enthusiasm,knew how to preserve dignity with independence, and modesty withvivacity.
_Corinne to Lord Nelville_. _Dec. 15th, 1794._
"I do not know, my lord, whether you will think me too confident inmyself, or whether you will do justice to the motives which may excusethat confidence. Yesterday I heard you say that you had not yet seenRome, that you were neither acquainted with the masterpieces of our finearts, nor those ancient ruins which teach us history by imagination andsentiment, and I have conceived the idea of presuming to offer myself asyour guide in this journey through a course of centuries.
"Without doubt, Rome could easily present a great number of scholarswhose profound erudition might be much more useful to you, but if I cansucceed in inspiring you with a love for this retreat, towards which Ihave always felt myself so imperiously attracted, your own studies willfinish the rude draft which I shall have begun.
"Many foreigners come to Rome as they would go to London or to Paris, toseek the dissipation of a great city; and if they dared confess theywere bored at Rome, I believe the greater part would confess it; but itis equally true that here may be found a charm that never tires. Willyou pardon me, my lord, a wish that this charm were known to you.
"It is true that here you must forget all the political interests in theworld, but when these interests are not united to sacred sentiments andduties they chill the heart. Here too you must renounce what would becalled the pleasures of society, but these pleasures almost invariablywither up the imagination. In Rome you may enjoy an existence at oncesolitary and animated, which freely develops all that Heaven hasimplanted in us. I repeat it, my lord; pardon this love of my country,which begets a desire to make it beloved by such a man as you; and donot judge, with the severity of an Englishman, those testimonies ofgood-will which an Italian hopes she may give you without sinking eitherin her own estimation or in yours.
CORRINE."
In vain would Oswald have endeavoured to conceal the exquisite pleasurehe received from this letter; he caught a glimpse of a confused futureof enjoyment and happiness: imagination, love, enthusiasm, all that isdivine in the soul of man, appeared to him united with the project ofseeing Rome with Corinne. For, this time he did not reflect; this timehe set out the very instant to visit Corinne, and by the way hecontemplated the sky, he enjoyed the charm of the weather, life satlightly on him. His griefs and his fears were lost in the clouds ofhope; his heart, so long oppressed by sadness, palpitated and leapedwith joy; he feared, it is true, that so happy a disposition of mindmight not last; but the very idea that it was fleeting gave to thisfever of enjoyment more force and activity.
"What, are you come already?" said Corinne, seeing Lord Nelville enter;"Ah, thanks!" and she stretched forth her hand. Oswald seized it, andimprinted his lips on it with the warmest tenderness; nor did he suffernow that timidity which often mingled itself with his most agreeableimpressions, and caused him sometimes to endure, in the company of thosehe loved best, the most bitter and painful feelings. The intimacy hadcommenced between Oswald and Corinne since they had parted; it was theletter of Corinne which had established it: they were satisfied witheach other, and mutually felt the most tender gratitude.
"This morning then," said Corinne, "I will shew you the Pantheon and StPeter's: I had, indeed, some hope," added she smiling, "that you wouldaccept my offer to make the tour of Rome with you, so my horses areready. I have expected you; you have arrived; 'tis very well, let us setout." "Astonishing woman!" said Oswald; "Who then, art thou? Whence hastthou derived so many opposite charms, which it would seem ought toexclude each other;--sensibility, gaiety, profound reflection, externalgrace, freedom, and modesty? Art thou an illusion? art thou somesupernatural blessing, destined to ma
ke happy the life of him who isfortunate enough to meet with thee?" "Ah!" replied Corinne, "if I haveit in my power to do you any service you must not think I will ever giveup the merit of it." "Take care," said Oswald, seizing Corinne's handwith emotion; "take care what service it is you are about to render me.For these two years the iron hand of affliction has closed up my heart;if your sweet presence has afforded me relief; if, while with you, Ibreathe again, what will become of me when once more abandoned to mydestiny?--What will become of me?" "Let us leave to time and to chance,"interrupted Corinne, "to decide whether this impression of a day, whichI have produced upon you, will be longer than a day in its duration. Ifthere be a mutual sympathy between our souls, our mutual affection willnot be transient. Be that as it may, let us go and admire together allthat can elevate our mind and our sentiments; we shall thus taste somemoments of happiness."
In finishing these words Corinne went down stairs, and Nelville followedher, astonished at her answer. It seemed to him that she admitted thepossibility of a half sentiment,--a momentary attraction. In short, hethought he perceived something like levity in the manner in which shehad expressed herself, and he was hurt at it.
He placed himself, without saying a word, in Corinne's carriage; who,guessing his thoughts, said to him, "I do not believe that the heart ofman is so formed that he must always feel either no love at all or themost invincible passion. There are beginnings of sentiment which a moreprofound examination may dissipate. We flatter and then undeceiveourselves, and even the enthusiasm of which we are susceptible, if itrenders the enchantment more rapid, may also cause coldness to succeedthe more quickly." "You have, then, reflected deeply on the tenderpassion," said Oswald with bitterness. Corinne blushed at this word, andwas silent for some moments; then resuming the conversation, with astriking mixture of frankness and dignity, "I do not believe," said she,"that a woman of sensibility has ever arrived at the age of twenty-sixyears, without having known the illusion of love; but if never havingbeen happy, if never having met the object who could merit all theaffections of my heart, be any claim to interest in the bosom of man, Ihave a claim to yours." These words, and the accent with which Corinnepronounced them, dissipated a little, the cloud which had spread overthe soul of Lord Nelville; nevertheless he said to himself: "She is themost fascinating of women, but an Italian; and hers is not that timid,innocent heart, to herself unknown, which the young English lady that myfather destined for me must possess."
The name of this young English lady was Lucilia Edgermond, daughter tothe best friend of Lord Nelville's father; but she was too young whenOswald quitted England for him to marry her, or even foresee, withcertainty, what she would one day become.