[20] It is the dance of Mm. Recamier that gave me the idea of what I
have attempted to describe. This woman, so celebrated for her grace and
beauty, offers in the midst of her misfortunes the example of so
touching a resignation, and of such a total oblivion of her personal
interests, that her moral qualities seem to everyone as remarkable as
her accomplishments.
Chapter ii.
Corrine was prevented by the crowd from making any answer to Lord
Nelville. They were going to the supper room, and each _cavaliere
servente_ was hastening to seat himself by the side of his partner. A
strange lady entered when all the seats were occupied, and no gentleman,
except Lord Nelville and Count d'Erfeuil, made her an offer of his. This
was not the effect of impoliteness or of egotism; but the idea which the
great Roman lords entertain of honour and duty, is not to stir one step,
nor be absent one moment from their ladies. Some who were unable to find
seats, stood behind the chairs of their mistresses, ready to wait upon
them at the least signal. The ladies only conversed with their gallants;
strangers wandered unnoticed about the circle; for the ladies in Italy
are unacquainted with coquetry, nor does any vain triumph of self-love
ever introduce itself into their tender attachments. They have no desire
to please any other than him who possesses their affection; you can
never engage their minds before you have interested their hearts or
pleased their eyes, and frequently the most sudden beginnings of passion
are followed by a sincere devotion, and even a very long constancy. In
Italy, infidelity is more severely condemned in man than in woman. Three
or four gentlemen, under different titles, are followers of the same
lady, who leads them about with her, often without even concerning
herself to mention their names to the master of the house who receives
them. One is the favoured suitor--the other he who aspires to be so--a
third is called the sufferer (_il patito_); this latter is absolutely
disdained, but nevertheless, permitted to continue his adoration; and
all these rivals live peaceably together. The use of the poignard now
only survives among the common people. There is in this country a
whimsical mixture of simplicity and depravity, dissimulation and truth,
sincerity and revenge, weakness and resolution, which can only be
explained by constant observation; the reason being that their good
qualities proceed from the fact that nothing is done from vanity, and
their bad ones from the fact that they will do a great deal for
interest, whether that interest be allied to love, to ambition, or to
fortune.
Distinctions of rank have in general little effect in Italy; this is not
from philosophy, but their facility of character and familiarity of
manners. This accounts for the little influence of aristocratic
prejudices amongst them; for as society does not pretend to judge of
anything, it embraces the opinions of all.
After supper the company betook themselves to play. Some ladies
preferred the game of hazard, whilst others chose the silent one of
whist; and not a word was heard pronounced in that room which so lately
was filled with noise. The inhabitants of the south often pass from the
greatest agitation to the most profound repose: another contrasted part
of their character is indolence united to the most unwearied activity.
In any individual instance among these people, we must beware of judging
upon a first observation, since we find in them the most opposite
qualities: if at one moment they are prudent, perhaps in the next they
show themselves the boldest of men; if they appear indolent, it is only
because they are reposing after some exertion, or preparing for another:
their soul loses none of its force in society, but is most probably
concentrating all its energies for decisive circumstances.
In this Roman assembly of which Oswald and Corinne formed a part, there
were men who lost enormous sums at play, without betraying in their
countenances the slightest emotion. Had these men been relating some
facts of trifling importance, they would have exhibited the most lively
expression and the most animated gestures; but when their passions
arrive at a certain pitch of violence, they dread the eye of
observation, and nearly always conceal them beneath a veil of silence
and apparent apathy.
The scene of the ball was impressed upon Lord Nelville's memory,
associated with bitter resentment; for he feared that the enthusiasm of
the Italians had, at least for a moment, robbed him of the affection of
Corinne. This rendered him very unhappy; but pride whispered him to
conceal it, or discover it only by expressing contempt for the suffrages
of those who had flattered the dazzling accomplishments of his mistress.
He was invited by the company to make one at play, but he refused.
Corinne did the same, and motioned him to come and sit down by her.
Oswald expressed himself uneasy, lest he should expose Corinne to
observation by thus passing the whole evening with her in company. "Make
yourself easy on that score," said she, "nobody will trouble their heads
with us: it is the custom here for people to do as they please in
company; we have no established, ceremonious forms to lay one another
under an unpleasant restraint, nor do we exact any formal attention; a
general polite disposition is all that is expected. This is not,
certainly, a country where liberty exists such as you understand the
term in England; but we enjoy here a perfect independence in society."
"That is to say," replied Oswald, "you show a complete disregard for
manners." "At least," interrupted Corinne, "we show no hypocrisy. M. de
la Rochefoucault has said, '_coquetry is the least of a woman's
defects_': in truth, whatever may be the faults of women in Italy, they
do not seek to hide them by dissimulation. And if the sacredness of
marriage be not here sufficiently respected, it is at least with the
consent of both parties."
"It is not from sincerity that this kind of frankness proceeds," replied
Oswald, "but from indifference to public opinion. When I arrived here, I
had a letter of recommendation to a princess, which I gave to my Italian
servant to deliver; he said to me, '_Sir, it will be of no use to
deliver this letter now, for the princess sees nobody; she is_
INAMORATA;' and this state of being _in love_, is announced with as much
indifference as any other situation incidental to our existence. This
publicity cannot be palliated by the plea of extraordinary vehemence of
passion; several attachments of this sort succeed each other, and are of
equal notoriety. So little are women given to mystery in this respect,
that they avow their connections with less embarrassment than those of
our country would feel in speaking of their husbands. It is easy to
believe that no profound or delicate sentiment is mixed with this
sensibility of passion, divested of modesty. Hence it happens that in
this nation, where nothing is thought of but love, there is not a single
romance; because love is here so rapid and so public that it affords no
interesting developments; and to give a true picture of general manners
in this respect, it would be necessary to begin and terminate it in the
first page. Pardon me, Corinne," cried Lord Nelville, observing the pain
that he gave her; "you are an Italian, and that thought ought to disarm
me; but one of the causes of that incomparable grace which distinguishes
you, is the union of all the characteristic charms of different nations.
I know not in what country you have been brought up; but it appears to
me certain, that you have not passed your whole life in Italy--perhaps
in England itself--Ah, Corinne! if that were so, how could you have
quitted that sanctuary of modesty and delicacy, for these regions,
where not only virtue, but love itself, is so badly understood? It is
breathed in the air; but does it penetrate the heart? Your poetry, in
which love performs so principal a part, possesses considerable grace,
and much imagination; it is ornamented with brilliant pictures, whose
colours are lively and voluptuous. But where will you find that tender,
melancholy sentiment, which animates our poetry? What have you that can
be put in comparison with the scene between Belvidera and her husband,
in OTWAY; or with that in SHAKESPEARE, between Romeo and Juliet? But
above all, what have you to compare with those admirable lines of
THOMSON, in his 'Spring,' where he paints in such noble and affecting
traits, the happiness of love, when sanctioned by marriage? Have you any
such marriage in Italy? And can love exist where there is no domestic
felicity? Is it not this happiness which the heart seeks, as possession
is the object of sensual passion? Do not all young and beautiful women
resemble each other, unless the qualities of the mind and soul determine
a preference? And what desire is excited by all these qualities?
Marriage. That is to say, the association of every thought, and of every
sentiment. Illicit love, when unfortunately it exists amongst us, is, if
it may be so expressed, only a reflection of marriage. In such
connections, that happiness is sought for, which the wanderer cannot
find at home; and infidelity itself is more moral in England than
marriage in Italy."
These words were hard: they deeply wounded the sensibility of Corinne;
who, rising immediately, her eyes filled with tears, quitted the room
and returned directly home. Oswald was distracted at having offended
her; but it was the irritation of his mind, occasioned by the impression
she made in the ball, which had betrayed itself in the remarks that had
just escaped him. He followed her to her abode; but she refused to see
him. He called again the next morning, but in vain: her door was closed
against him. This protracted refusal to receive Lord Nelville, was not
agreeable to the disposition of Corinne; but she was painfully afflicted
at the opinion he had expressed of the Italian women; and this very
opinion induced her to form a determination of concealing, for the
future, if possible, the sentiment that preyed on her heart.
Oswald, on his side, found, in this instance, that the behaviour of
Corinne was not consistent with her natural simplicity, and he became
confirmed more and more in the discontent with which the ball had
inspired him; and a disposition of mind was excited from these
circumstances, capable of struggling against the passion whose empire he
dreaded. His principles were rigid, and the mystery which enveloped the
past life of her whom he loved, afflicted him intensely. The manners of
Corinne appeared to him most fascinating, but sometimes too much
animated by the universal desire of pleasing. He discovered much
nobleness and reserve in her conversation and deportment; but she seemed
to indulge in too much latitude of opinion. In fact, Oswald was a
captivated man, hurried away by the passion he felt for his accomplished
mistress, but cherishing in his breast an opponent which combated his
feelings. Such a situation of mind is frequently attended with much
bitterness. We are dissatisfied with ourselves, and with others. We
suffer, and feel at the same time that our suffering ought to increase,
or at least terminate in a violent explanation, by which one of those
two sentiments that lacerate the heart must obtain a complete triumph.
It was in such a state of mind as this that Lord Nelville wrote to
Corinne. His letter was harsh and ungentlemanly. He felt this; but
various confused emotions impelled him to send it: he was rendered so
wretched by these internal conflicts, that he wished, at all hazards,
for some circumstance or other to terminate them.
A report, which had just been communicated to him by the Count
d'Erfeuil, though he did not give credence to it, contributed perhaps to
give more asperity to his expressions. It was noised about Rome, that
Corinne was about to marry the Prince Amalfi. Oswald knew very well that
she did not love him, and of course concluded that the events of the
ball afforded the only foundation for such a report; but he was
convinced that she had been at home to the Prince on the morning when he
himself was refused admission; and too proud to discover the slightest
sentiment of jealousy, he satisfied his discontent by denigrating the
nation, for which he beheld with so much pain, Corinne's predilection.
Chapter iii.
_Oswald's Letter to Corinne_.
_January 24, 1795._
"You refuse to see me; you are offended at our conversation of the night
before last; and you have doubtless formed an intention to open your
doors in future only to your own countrymen, meaning probably by this
means, to expiate the fault you have committed in admitting to your
society a man of another nation. However, far from repenting my
sincerity with respect to the Italians, far from regretting the
observations which I made to you, whom, deluded by phantoms, I wished to
consider as an Englishwoman, I will venture to predict more strongly
still, that you will find neither happiness nor dignity should you make
choice of a husband from that society by which you are surrounded. I
know not the Italian worthy of you; there is not one by whose alliance
you could be honoured, let him be invested with whatever title he may.
Men in Italy are much less estimable than women; for they possess the
defects of the women, in addition to their own. Will you persuade me,
that these inhabitants of the South, who so pusillanimously shrink from
pain, and pursue the phantom of pleasure with so much avidity, can be
susceptible of love? Have you not seen (I have the fact from you) the
very last month, an Italian husband at the play, who but eight days
before had lost his wife, and a wife whom he pretended to love? They are
here not more eager to remove the dead from their sight than to efface
the remembrance of them from their mind. The funeral ceremonies are
attended to by the priests, as the rites of love are performed by the
attendant Cavaliers: ceremonial and custom supply the place of regret
and enthusiasm. Lastly, and it is this that principally destroys love,
the men of Italy are incapable of inspiring the women with any kind of
respect: the latter do not feel obliged by the submission of the former,
because their character is not dignified with firmness, nor their life
with serious occupation. In order that nature and social order may
appear in all their beauty, man must be the protector, and woman the
protected; but the protector must adore that weakness which he defends,
and reverence the helpless deity, who, like the household gods of the
ancients, brings happiness to his home. So it might almost be said, that
every woman is a Sultan, having at her command a seraglio of men.
The men are here distinguished by that softness and pliability of
character, which properly belongs to women. An Italian proverb says:
'_who knows not how to feign, knows not how to live_.' Is not that a
woman's proverb? In truth, how can the manly character be formed upon
true principles of dignity and strength, in a country which affords no
military career of glory, which contains no free institutions? Hence it
is, that they direct their minds to all the little arts of cunning; they
treat life like a game of chess, in which success is everything. All
that remains to them from antiquity, is something gigantic in their
expressions and in their external magnificence; but this baseless
grandeur is frequently accompanied by all that is vulgar in taste, and
miserably negligent in domestic life. Is this, Corinne, the nation which
you would be expected to prefer to every other? Is this the nation whose
roaring applauses are so necessary to you, that every other destiny
would appear dull and congenial compared with their noisy '_bravos_?'
Who could flatter himself with being able to render you happy away from
these dear scenes of tumult? What an inconceivable character is that of
Corinne! profound in sentiment, but frivolous in taste; independent from
innate pride, yet servile from the need of distraction! She is a
sorceress whose spells alternately alarm and then allay the fears which
they have created; who dazzles our view in native sublimity, and then,
all of a sudden disappears from that region where she is without her
like, to lose herself in an indiscriminate crowd. Corinne, Corinne, he
who is your adorer cannot help feeling his love disturbed by fear!
"OSWALD."
Corinne, on reading this letter, was much incensed at the inveterate
prejudices which Oswald appeared to entertain of her country. But she
was happy enough in her conjectures, to discover that she owed this to
the dissatisfaction he experienced at the _fête_, and to her refusing to
see him ever since after his final conversation on that evening; and
this reflection softened a little the painful impression which the
letter produced upon her. She hesitated for some time, or at least,
fancied she hesitated, as to the conduct which she should observe
towards him. The tenderness she cherished for this eccentric lover,
induced a wish to see him; but it was extremely painful to her that he
should imagine her to be desirous of marrying him, although their
fortunes were at least equal, and although in revealing her name, it
would be easy to show that it was by no means inferior to that of Lord
Nelville. Nevertheless, the independence and singularity of that mode of
life which she had adopted, ought to have inspired her with a
disinclination for marriage; and most assuredly she would have repulsed
the idea, had not her passion blinded her to the sufferings she would
have to undergo in espousing an Englishman and renouncing Italy.
We willingly make an offering of pride upon the altar of the heart; but
when social prosperity and worldly interests oppose obstacles in any
shape, when we can suppose that the object of our love makes any sort of
sacrifice in uniting himself to us, it is no longer possible to show him
any alteration of sentiment. Corinne not being equal to a determination
to break off with Oswald, wished to persuade herself of the possibility
of seeing him in future, and yet concealing the passion which she felt
for him. It was in this intention that she came to a determination to
confine herself, in the answer she should send to his letter, merely to
his unjust accusations against the Italian nation, and to reason with
him upon this subject as if it were the only one that interested her.
Perhaps the best way in which a woman of intellect can resume her
coldness and dignity, is by seeking an asylum in her own mind.
_Corinne to Lord Nelville_.
_Jan. 15, 1795._
"Did your letter, my lord, concern only me, I should not have attempted
the task of self-justification: my character is so easy to know, that he
who might not be able to comprehend it by himself, would derive little
aid in his scrutiny by any explanation that I could give him on the
subject. The virtuous reserve of the English women, and the graceful art
of the French, take my word for it, often serve to conceal one half of
what is passing in their souls: that which you are pleased to
distinguish in me by the name of magic, is nothing but a sort of
transparency of mind, which allows its different sentiments and opposing
thoughts to be seen without labouring to harmonize them; for that
harmony, when it exists, is almost always assumed--most genuine
characters being by nature inconsequent--but it is not of myself I wish
to speak, it is of that unfortunate nation you so cruelly attack. Can it
be my affection for my friends which has inspired you with this bitter
malevolence? You know me too well to be jealous of me; indeed I have not
the vanity to believe that a sentiment of this description could have
sufficient power to transport you to such a degree of injustice. You
repeat the opinion of every other foreigner upon the Italian character,
when drawn from first impressions; but it requires deeper penetration,
and a more patient scrutiny, to be able to form a correct judgment upon
this country, which at different epochs has been so great. Whence comes
it that this nation, under the Romans, has attained the highest military
character in the world? that it has been the most jealous of its
liberties, in the republics of the middle ages, and in the sixteenth
century, the most illustrious in literature, and the arts and sciences?
Has she not pursued glory under every form? And if now, alas! she can
boast of none, why do you not rather accuse her political situation,
since in other circumstances she has shown herself different?
"I know not whether I deceive myself; but the wrongs of the Italians
inspire me with no other sentiment than pity for their lot. Foreigners
have in every age conquered and torn asunder this beautiful country, the
perpetual object of their ambition; and yet foreigners bitterly reproach
this nation, with the wrongs of a conquered and dismembered country?
Europe is indebted to the Italians for the arts and sciences, and shall
Europe, turning their own benefits against them, dispute with her
benefactors the only species of renown which can distinguish a nation
without either military strength or political liberty?
"It is so true that nations derive their character from the nature of
their government, that in this same Italy, we behold a remarkable
difference of manners in the different states that compose it. The
Piedmontese, who formed a little national body, have a more martial
spirit than all the rest of Italy; the Florentines, who have had the
good fortune either to enjoy their liberty, or to be governed by liberal
princes, are mild and enlightened; the Venetians and the Genoese,
discover a genius for politics, because their government is a republican
Aristocracy; the Milanese are remarkable for their sincerity, which
character they have long since derived from the nations of the north;
the Neapolitans might easily become a warlike people, because during
several centuries they have been united under a government, very
imperfect it is true, but yet a government of their own. The Roman
nobility being totally unoccupied with either military or political
pursuits, must in consequence become indolent and uninformed; but the
ecclesiastics, having a career of emulation open before them, are much
more enlightened and cultivated than the nobles, and as the papal
government admits of no distinction of birth, and is purely elective in
the clerical body, it begets a sort of liberality, not in ideas, but in
habits, which renders Rome a most agreeable abode for those who have
neither the prospect, nor the ambition of worldly eminence.
"The nations of the south more easily receive the impression of their
political establishment than those of the north; they possess an
indolence which soon softens into resignation, and nature offers them so
many enjoyments, that they are easily consoled for the loss of those
which society refuses them. There is certainly much depravity in Italy,
and nevertheless civilisation is here in a much lower stage of
development than that of other countries. There is something almost
savage in the character of the Italians, notwithstanding their
intellectual acuteness, which too much resembles that of the hunter in
the art of surprising his prey. And indolent people easily acquire a
cunning character; they possess a habit of gentleness which serves them,
upon occasion, to dissimulate even their wrath: it is always by our
usual manners that we succeed in concealing an unexpected situation.
"The Italians are sincere and faithful in the private intercourse of
life. Interest and ambition exercise considerable sway among them; but
pride and vanity none: the distinctions of rank produce little
impression. They have no society, no salons, no fashions, no little
daily methods of giving effect to minute circumstances. These habitual
sources of dissimulation and envy exist not among them. When they
deceive their enemies and their rivals, it is because they consider
themselves in a state of warfare with them; but in other circumstances
they are frank and ingenuous. It is this ingenuousness alone that has
scandalised you respecting our women, who, hearing love constantly
spoken of, and surrounded by its seductions and examples, conceal not
their sentiments, and if it may be so expressed, give even, to gallantry
a character of innocence; besides, they have no ridicule to dread from
that society in which they live. Some of them are so ignorant that they
cannot write; this they publicly avow, and answer a billet by means of
their agent (_il paglietto_) in a formal style on official paper. But to
make amends for this, among those who are well educated, you will find
academy professors who give public lessons in a black scarf; and should
this excite a smile, you would be answered, 'Is there any harm in
knowing Greek? Is there any harm in earning one's living by one's own
exertions? Why should so simple a matter provoke your mirth?'
"But now my lord, allow me to touch upon a more delicate subject; allow
me to enquire the cause why our men display so little military ardour.
They expose their lives freely when impelled by love and hatred; and a
stab from a stiletto given or received in such a cause, excites neither
astonishment nor dread. They fear not death when natural passions bid
them brave its terrors; but often, it must be owned, they prefer life to
political interests, which seldom affect them because they possess no
national independence. Often too, that notion of honour which descends
to us from the age of chivalry, has little power in a nation where
opinion, and society by which opinion is formed, do not exist; it is a
natural consequence of this disorganisation of every public authority,
that women should attain that ascendancy which they here possess over
the men, perhaps in too high a degree to respect and admire them.
Nevertheless, the conduct of men towards women is full of delicacy and
attention. The domestic virtues in England constitute female glory and
happiness; but if there are countries where love exists outside the
sacred ties of marriage; that one among these countries where female
happiness excites the greatest attention and care, is Italy. Here men
have invented moral duties for relations outside the bounds of morality
itself; but at least in the division of these duties, they have been
both just and generous: they considered themselves more guilty than
women, when they broke the ties of love; because the latter had made the
greater sacrifice and lost more. They conceive that before the tribunal
of the heart, he is the most guilty who does the most injury. Men do
wrong for want of feeling; but women through weakness of character.
Society, which is at once rigorous and depraved--that is to say, without
pity for errors when they entail misfortunes,--must be very severe upon
women; but in a country which has no society, natural goodness of heart
has freer exercise.
"Ideas of consideration and dignity are, I agree, less powerful and even
less known in Italy than any where else: the want of society and of
public opinion is the cause of it: but notwithstanding all that may be
said of the perfidy of the Italians, I maintain that there is not a
country in the world where more sincerity is to be found. So far is this
sincerity from being checked by vanity, that although that country be
one of which foreigners speak most ill, there is no country where they
meet with a more kindly reception. The Italians are reproached with
being too much inclined to flattery; but it must be allowed in their
favour, that generally, they lavish their soft expressions, not from
design, but a real desire to please; nor can it be alleged that these
expressions are ever falsified by their conduct. But it may be asked,
would they be faithful to their friends in extraordinary circumstances,
in which it might be necessary to brave for them the perils of
adversity? A very small number, I must own, would be capable of such
friendship; but this observation will not apply to Italy alone.
"The Italians are remarkable for that lassitude which distinguishes the
eastern nations; but there are no men more active and persevering when
once their passions are excited. These very women, too, whom you behold
as indolent as the odalisks of a seraglio, upon some occasions give most
striking proofs of attachment. There is something mysterious in the
character and the imagination of the Italians, in whom you will find by
turns, either unexpected traits of generosity and friendship, or gloomy
and formidable proofs of hatred and revenge. They have no emulation,
because life to them is only a pleasant summer's dream; but give those
men a purpose, and you will see them in six months, develop an
unrivalled power of will and intelligence. It is the same with women:
what ambition can they feel, to excel in education when the ignorance of
the men renders them insensible to its value? By cultivating their minds
their hearts would become isolated; but these very women would soon
become worthy a man of superior mind, if such a man were the object of
their tender affection[21].
"Everything here sleeps: but in a country where great interests are
dead, repose and carelessness are more noble than a busy anxiety about
trifling concerns.
"Even literature languishes in a country where thought is not renewed by
the strong and varied action of life.--But what nation has testified
more admiration for literature and the fine arts than Italy? We are
informed by history, that the popes, the princes, and the people, have
at all times paid to painters, poets, and distinguished writers, the
most public homage. This enthusiastic veneration of talent is I confess,
my lord, one of the first motives of my attachment to this country.--We
do not find here that _blasée_ imagination, that discouraging temper of
mind, that despotic mediocrity, which in other countries so effectually
torment and stifle natural genius.--A happy idea, sentiment, or
expression, sets an audience on fire, if I may say so. By the same rule
that talent holds the first rank amongst us, it excites considerable
envy; Pergolese was assassinated for his _Stabat Mater_; Giorgione armed
himself with a cuirass when he was obliged to paint in public; but the
violent jealousy which talent inspires amongst us, is that which, in
other nations, gives birth to power. This jealousy does not degrade its
object; it may hate, proscribe, and kill, but it is nevertheless mingled
with the fanaticism of admiration, and encourages genius, even in
persecuting it. To conclude; when we see so much life in so confined a
circle, in the midst of so many obstacles and so much subjection of
every kind, we cannot avoid in my opinion taking the deepest interest in
a people who inhale, with so much avidity, the little air which the
loopholes of imagination allow to enter through the walls that confine
them.
"That this confinement is such, I will not deny: nor that men rarely
acquire in Italy that dignity, that boldness, which distinguishes free
and military nations.--I will even admit my lord, if you choose, that
the character of such nations is capable of inspiring women with more
love and enthusiasm. But might it not also be possible, that a noble and
interested man, cherishing the most rigid virtues, might unite in his
character every quality that can excite love, without possessing those
which promise happiness.
"CORINNE."