Corinne, Volume 1 (of 2)

  Chapter i.

  The indecision of Oswald's character, increased by his misfortunes, ledhim to dread forming any irrevocable resolve. He had not even dared, inhis state of irresolution, to ask of Corinne the secret of her name anddestiny; nevertheless, his love acquired every day new strength; henever beheld her without emotion; in company he could hardly quit, evenfor an instant, the place where she was seated; she did not speak a wordthat he felt not; nor did she experience one moment's sadness or gaiety,that was not reflected in his countenance. But in the midst of hisadmiration and of his love for Corinne, he recollected how little such awoman agreed with the English manner of living; how much she differedfrom the idea which his father had formed of her whom it would be properfor him to espouse; and all that he said to Corinne partook of thetrouble and constraint which these reflections caused him.

  Corinne perceived this too well; but it would have cost her so much tobreak off with Lord Nelville, that she herself endeavoured to avoid, asmuch as he, a decisive explanation; and as she was not possessed of muchforesight she was happy with the present, such as it was, although itwas impossible for her to know what would be the issue of it.

  She had become entirely divided from the world, in order to devoteherself entirely to her passion for Oswald. But at length, so muchaffected was she at his silence with regard to the future, that sheresolved to accept an invitation for a ball to which she had beenpressingly solicited. Nothing is more common at Rome than to leavesociety and to appear in it again, alternately, just as the parties feelit agreeable to themselves: it is the country where people trouble theirminds the least with what is elsewhere called _gossip_; each one does ashe pleases, without any person enquiring about it, or at least, withoutfinding in others any obstacle either to his love or his ambition. TheRomans are as inattentive to the conduct of their fellow-countrymen, asto that of strangers, who pass and repass through their city, therendezvous of Europeans. When Lord Nelville knew that Corinne was goingto the ball, he was vexed at it. He thought he had perceived in her forsome time a melancholy disposition in sympathy with his own: all on asudden she appeared to him to be taken up with dancing, an art in whichshe excelled; and her imagination seemed fired at the approach of a_fete_. Corinne was not frivolous by character; but she felt herselfevery day more and more enslaved by her love for Oswald, and she wouldfain endeavour to weaken its force. She knew by experience, thatreflection and sacrifices have less effect upon passionate charactersthan dissipation, and she thought that reason did not consist inconquering ourselves according to rules, but by doing so how we can.

  "I must," said she to Lord Nelville, who reproached her with herintention of going to the ball, "I must know, however, if there be onlyyou in the world who can fill the void of my life; if that which pleasedme formerly may not still have the power to amuse me; and if thesentiment you have inspired me with must absorb every other interest,every other idea."--"You would then cease to love me?" repliedOswald.--"No;" answered Corinne, "but it is only in domestic life thatit could be pleasing to me to feel thus governed by a single affection.To me who need my talents, my mind, and my imagination, to support thelustre of that kind of life which I have adopted, it must bepainful--extremely painful to love as I love you."--"You would notsacrifice to me then," said Oswald to her, "this homage and thisglory."--"Of what importance can it be to you," said Corinne, "to knowwhether or not I would sacrifice them to you? Since we are notabsolutely destined for one another, it would not be prudent to let thathappiness with which I must be satisfied, wither for ever."--LordNelville made no answer, because it was necessary, in expressing hissentiments, to avow also the purpose they inspired, and of this his ownheart was still in ignorance. He was silent therefore, and sighing,followed Corinne to the ball, whither he went with much reluctance.

  It was the first time since his calamity that he had seen a largeassembly; and the tumult of a _fete_ caused him such an impression ofsadness that he remained a long time in a room contiguous to thatappropriated for the ball, his head supported on his hand, not evencurious to behold Corinne dance. He listened to the festive music, whichlike every other music, produces reverie, though only intended toinspire joy. The Count d'Erfeuil arrived, quite enchanted at the sightof a ball, which produced in him some recollections of France.--"I havetried all I could," said he to Lord Nelville, "to discover somethinginteresting in these ruins of which they talk so much, and I can reallyfind no charm in them. It must be the effect of a very great prejudiceto admire those heaps of rubbish covered with thorns. I shall speak mymind of them when I return to Paris, for it is time that this Italiandelusion should cease. There is not a monument now standing whole in anypart of Europe, that I would not sooner see than those old stumps ofpillars, those bas-reliefs, all black with time, which can only beadmired by dint of erudition. A pleasure which must be bought with somuch study, does not appear to me very lively in itself--to be charmedwith the sights of Paris, nobody need grow pale over books." LordNelville made no reply.--The Count interrogated him afresh, as to theimpression that Rome produced on him. "In the midst of a ball," saidOswald, "is not the most proper time for serious conversation on thissubject; and you know that I am incapable of any other."--"Well andgood:" replied the Count d'Erfeuil, "I am more gay than you I admit; butwho knows whether I am not also the more wise of the two? Believe me,there is much philosophy in my apparent levity: it is the way we shouldtake life."--"You are perhaps in the right," answered Oswald, "but it isfrom nature, and not from reflection, that you acquire that way ofthinking; and that is why your manner of taking life may only suityourself."

  The Count d'Erfeuil heard the name of Corinne mentioned in the ballroom, and entered it to know what was going forward. Lord Nelvilleadvanced as far as the door, and beheld the Prince Amalfi, a Neapolitanof the most handsome figure, who besought Corinne to dance with him the_Tarantula_, a Neapolitan dance full of grace and originality. Thefriends of Corinne besought her also to comply with his request. Sheyielded to their desire without waiting to be asked frequently, whichastonished the Count d'Erfeuil, accustomed as he was to the refusalswith which it is customary to precede consenting to a request of thisnature. But in Italy, these kind of graces are unknown, and all believethey please most in society by showing an eagerness to do what is askedof them. Corinne would have invented this natural behaviour if she werenot already accustomed to it. The dress she had chosen for the ball waselegant and light; her hair was gathered up in a fillet of silk, afterthe Italian fashion; and her eyes expressed a lively pleasure, whichrendered her more seductive than ever. Oswald was disturbed at this; hewarred against himself; he was indignant at being captivated with charmswhich he ought to lament, since, far from thinking to please him, it wasto escape his empire that Corinne appeared so attractive.--But who couldresist the seductions of a grace like hers? Were she even disdainful,she would be still more omnipotent; and that certainly was not thedisposition of Corinne. She perceived Lord Nelville, and blushed, whilethere was in her eyes as she looked upon him, a most enchantingsoftness.

  The Prince d'Amalfi accompanied himself, in dancing, with castanets.Corinne before she began saluted the assembly most gracefully with bothher hands, then turning round upon her heel took the tambourine whichthe Prince Amalfi presented her with. She then began to dance, strikingthe air upon the tambourine, and there was in all her motions, anagility, a grace, a mixture of modesty and voluptuousness, which mightgive an idea of that power which the Bayadores exercise over theimagination of the Indians, when, if we may use the expression, they arealmost poets in their dance; when they express so many differentsentiments by the characteristic steps and the enchanting pictures whichthey offer to the sight. Corinne was so well acquainted with all theattitudes which the ancient painters and sculptors have represented,that by a light movement of her arms, sometimes in placing thetambourine over her head, sometimes forward, with one of her hands,whilst the other ran over the little bells with an incredible dexterity,she recalled to mind the dancers of Hercula
neam[20], and gave birthsuccessively to a crowd of new ideas for painting and design.

  It was not the French style, characterised by the elegance anddifficulty of the step; it was a talent more connected with imaginationand sentiment. The character of the music was alternately expressed bythe exactitude and softness of the movements. Corinne, in dancing,conveyed to the souls of her spectators what was passing in her own. Thesame as in her improvisation, her performance on the lyre, or theefforts of her pencil,--she reduced everything to language. Themusicians, in beholding her, exerted themselves to make the genius oftheir art felt more exquisitely; a kind of passionate joy, a sensibilityof the imagination, electrified all the spectators of the magic dance,and transported them to that state of ideal existence in which we dreamof happiness that does not exist in this world.

  There is a part of this Neapolitan dance when the lady kneels, whilstthe gentleman moves round her, not as a master, but as aconqueror.--What at this moment were the charms and dignity of Corinne.How regal, even in kneeling, did she appear! And when she arose,striking her aerial cymbal, she seemed animated with that livelyenthusiasm of youth and beauty, which would create a belief that nothingwas wanting to complete her happiness. Alas! it was far otherwise; butOswald feared it, and sighed in the midst of his admiration of Corinne,as if each triumph of her genius was a degree of separation from him: atthe conclusion of the dance, the gentleman kneels in his turn, and thelady dances round him. Corinne in this part, if it were possible,surpassed herself; her step was so light, as she tripped two or threetimes round the same circle, that her buskined feet seemed to fly overthe floor with the velocity of lightning; and when she lifted up one ofher hands, shaking the tambourine, while with the other she motioned thePrince Amalfi to rise, all the male part of the company were tempted tothrow themselves on their knees too, except Oswald, who retired a fewpaces backward, and the Count d'Erfeuil, who advanced a few pacesforward to compliment Corinne. This enthusiasm of the Italians was by nomeans assumed, but was the spontaneous effect of their feelings. Theyare not sufficiently practised in society and in self-esteem to pay muchregard to the effect which their actions will produce; they never letthemselves be thwarted in their pleasures by vanity, nor turned asidefrom the object of their pursuit by applause.

  Corinne was charmed at her success, and thanked all her admirers withthe most simple grace.--The satisfaction she felt at having succeeded sowell, appeared beneath a veil of modesty; but her chief anxiety was tomake her way through the crowd, in order to reach the door against whichthe pensive Oswald was leaning. When she had reached the spot, shepaused to hear what he would say to her:--"Corinne," said he,endeavouring to conceal his captivation as well as the pain that hefelt: "Corinne, I hope you have met with sufficient homage andsufficient applause; but in the midst of these enthusiastic admirers,have you found one certain and courageous friend--one protector forlife? Can this vain tumult of applause satisfy a heart like thine?"

  FOOTNOTE:

  [20] It is the dance of Mm. Recamier that gave me the idea of what Ihave attempted to describe. This woman, so celebrated for her grace andbeauty, offers in the midst of her misfortunes the example of sotouching a resignation, and of such a total oblivion of her personalinterests, that her moral qualities seem to everyone as remarkable asher accomplishments.