[21] Mr Roscoe, author of the History of the Medici, has recently
published an History of Leo X., which is truly a masterpiece in its
kind, in which he relates all those marks of esteem and admiration,
which the princes and the people of Italy have conferred on
distinguished men of letters; he also shows, with impartiality, that the
conduct of many of the Popes has been, in this respect, very liberal.
Chapter iv.
Corinne's letter made Oswald a second time repent the idea he had formed
of detaching himself from her. The intellectual dignity, the attractive
tenderness with which she repelled the harsh allegations he had made
against her country, affected him deeply, and penetrated him with
admiration. A superiority, so grand, so simple, and so true, appeared to
him above all ordinary rules. He felt that Corinne was not the weak,
timid woman, without an opinion on any subject beyond the sphere of her
private duties and sentiments, which he had chosen in his imagination as
a partner for life. The remembrance of Lucilia, such as he had beheld
her at the age of twelve years, agreed much better with this idea;--but
could any woman be compared with Corinne? Could ordinary laws and rules
be applied to one, who united in herself so many different qualities,
cemented by genius and sensibility? Corinne was a miracle of nature, and
was it not a miracle worked in favour of Oswald, when he could flatter
himself with interesting such a woman? But her real name and condition
were unknown to him. What would be her future projects were he to avow
his intention of uniting himself to her? All was yet in obscurity; and
although the enthusiasm with which Corinne had inspired Oswald made him
desirous of espousing her, yet the idea that her life had not been
wholly irreproachable, and that such an union would certainly have been
condemned by his father, threw his soul into confusion, and racked him
with the most painful anxiety.
He was not now so sunk in grief, as before his acquaintance with
Corinne; but he no longer felt that sort of calm, which may even
accompany repentance, when our whole life is devoted to the expiation of
a crime. Formerly, he was not afraid to abandon himself to his
recollections, bitter as they were; but now he dreaded those long and
profound reveries, which would have revealed to him what was passing at
the bottom of his soul. In the meantime he prepared to visit Corinne, in
order to thank her for her letter, and obtain pardon for what he had
written to her, when Mr Edgermond, a relation of young Lucilia, entered
the room.
He was a worthy English gentleman, who had almost constantly resided in
Wales, where he possessed an estate. He cherished those principles and
prejudices which, in every country, serve to maintain things as they
are, and which have a most beneficial tendency, when things are as well
as human reason will permit. When that is the case, such men as Mr
Edgermond, that is to say, the partizans of established order, though
strongly and even obstinately attached to their customs and to their
manner of thinking, ought to be considered as men of rational and
enlightened minds.
Lord Nelville was startled when he heard Mr Edgermond announced; every
recollection of the past rushed upon him at once; but as it immediately
occurred to his mind that Lady Edgermond, the mother of Lucilia, had
sent her relation to reproach him, and thus restrain his independence,
this thought restored his firmness, and he received Mr Edgermond with
great coldness. However, he wronged his visitor by his suspicions, for
he had not the least design in his head that regarded Nelville. He
visited Italy for the sake of his health alone; and ever since he had
been in the country, he was constantly employed in hunting, and drinking
to King George and Old England. He was the most open-hearted of men,
and possessed a much better informed mind than his habits would induce
many to believe. He was a downright Englishman, not only as he ought to
be, but also as one might wish he were not: following in every country
the customs of his own, living only with Englishmen, and never
discoursing with foreigners; not out of contempt to them, but from a
sort of repugnance to foreign languages, and a timidity, which even at
the age of fifty, rendered him very diffident in forming new
acquaintances.
"I am happy to see you," said he to Nelville, "I am going to Naples in a
fortnight and should be glad to see you there, for I have not long to
stay in Italy; my regiment will soon embark." "Your regiment!" repeated
Lord Nelville, and blushed as if he had forgotten that he had a year's
leave of absence because his regiment was not to be employed before the
expiration of that period. He blushed at the thought that Corinne could
make him forget even his duty. "Your regiment," continued Mr Edgermond,
"will not go upon service so soon; so stay here quietly, and regain your
health. I saw my young cousin before I set out--she is more charming
than ever. I am sure by the time you return she will be the finest woman
in England." Lord Nelville said nothing--and Mr Edgermond was also
silent. Some other words passed between them, very laconic, though
extremely friendly, and Mr Edgermond was going, when suddenly turning
back, he said, "Apropos, my lord, you can do me a kindness--they tell me
you are acquainted with the celebrated Corinne: I don't much like
forming new acquaintances, but I am quite curious to see this lady."
"Since you desire it, I will ask Corinne's permission to introduce you,"
replied Oswald. "Do so, I beseech you," said Mr Edgermond; "and contrive
to let me see her some day when she improvises, or dances and sings to
the company." "Corinne does not thus display her talents to strangers,"
said Nelville; "she is your equal and mine in every respect." "Pardon my
mistake," said Mr Edgermond, "as she is not known by another name than
that of Corinne, and lives by herself at the age of twenty-six years
unaccompanied by any part of her family, I thought she derived support
from her talents." "Her fortune is entirely independent," answered his
lordship warmly, "and her mind is still more so." Mr Edgermond
immediately dropped this subject, and repented at having introduced it,
seeing that it interested Oswald. No men in the world have so much
discretion and delicate precaution in what concerns the affections, as
the English.
Mr Edgermond went away. Lord Nelville, when alone, could not help
exclaiming with emotion, "I must espouse Corinne. I must become her
protector, in order to preserve her from obloquy. She shall have the
little it is in my power to bestow--a rank and a name; whilst she on her
part will confer on me every earthly felicity." It was in this
disposition that he hastened to visit Corinne, and never did he enter
her doors with sweeter sentiments of hope and love; but, swayed by his
natural timidity, and in order to recover confidence, he began the
conversation with insignificant topics, and of this number was his
request for permission to introduce Mr Edgermond. At this name Corinne
was visibly agitated, and with a faltering voice refused what Oswald
solicited. All astonishment, he said to her, "I thought that in this
house, to which so many are allowed access, the title of my friend would
not afford a motive of exclusion." "Do not be offended, my lord,"
replied Corinne: "Believe that I must have very powerful reasons not to
consent to your desire." "Ands will you acquaint me with those
reasons?" replied Oswald. "Impossible!" cried Corinne; "Impossible!" "So
then--" said Nelville, and his emotion rendered him unable to proceed.
He was about to depart, when Corinne, all in tears, exclaimed in
English, "For God's sake do not leave me unless you wish to break my
heart!"
These words, and the tone of voice in which they were uttered, deeply
affected the soul of Oswald. He sat down again at some distance from
Corinne, supporting his head against a vase of alabaster which
embellished her apartment; then, suddenly, he said to her, "Cruel woman!
you see that I love you--you see that, twenty times a day, I am ready to
offer you my hand and my heart; yet you will not inform me who you are!
Tell me, Corinne, tell me the story of your past life," repeated he,
stretching his hand to her with the most moving expression of
sensibility. "Oswald!" cried Corinne; "Oswald! you do not know the pain
you give me. If I were mad enough to tell you all you would no longer
love me." "Great God!" replied he; "what have you then to reveal?"
"Nothing that renders me unworthy of you," said she; "but fortuitous
circumstances, and differences between our tastes and opinions, which
existed formerly and which no longer exist. Do not oblige me to confess
who I am. Some day, perhaps--some day, should you love me
sufficiently--Ah! I know not what I say," continued Corinne; "you shall
know all; but do not forsake me before you have heard it. Promise me
that you will not, in the name of your father who is now in heaven!"
"Pronounce not that name," cried Lord Nelville; "can you fathom his will
respecting us? Think you that he would consent to our union? If you do,
declare it, and I shall no longer be racked with doubts and fears. Some
time or other, I will unfold to you my sad story; but behold the
condition you have now reduced me to." In truth, his forehead was
covered with a cold sweat, his face was pale, and his trembling lips
with difficulty articulated these last words. Corinne, seated by the
side of Nelville, holding his hands in hers, gently recalled him to
himself. "My dear Oswald," said she to him; "ask Mr Edgermond if he has
ever been in Northumberland; or at least if he has only been there
within these past five years. Should he answer in the affirmative he may
then accompany you hither." At these words Oswald looked steadfastly at
Corinne, who cast down her eyes and was silent. "I shall do as you
desire me," said Lord Nelville, and went away.
On his return home, he exhausted conjecture upon the secrets of Corinne.
It appeared evident that she had passed a considerable time in England,
and that her name and family must be known there. But what could be her
motive for concealing them; and if she had been settled in England, why
had she left it? These questions greatly disturbed the heart of Oswald.
He was convinced that no stain would be found in her life; but he feared
a combination of circumstances might have rendered her guilty in the
eyes of others. What he most dreaded, was her being an object of English
disapprobation. He felt sufficiently fortified against that of every
other country; but the memory of his father was so intimately connected
with the love of his native country, that these two sentiments
strengthened each other.
Oswald, having learnt of Mr Edgermond that he had been in Northumberland
for the first time the preceding year, promised to introduce him to
Corinne that evening. Oswald arrived at her house before him, and made
her acquainted with the ideas that Mr Edgermond had conceived
respecting her, suggesting the propriety of convincing him how much he
was in error, by assuming the most cold and reserved manners.
"If you permit me," replied Corinne, "I will be the same to him as to
everybody else; if he desire to hear me, I will improvise before him; in
fact, I will appear to him as I am, not doubting that he will perceive
as much dignity of soul in this simple and natural behaviour, as if I
were to put on an air of restraint which would only be affected." "Yes,
Corinne," replied Oswald, "you are right. Ah! how much in the wrong is
he, who would in the least alter your admirable disposition."
At this moment Mr Edgermond arrived with the rest of the company. At the
commencement of the evening, Lord Nelville placed himself by the side of
Corinne, and with an interest which at once became the lover and the
protector, he said every thing that could enhance her worth. The respect
he testified for her seemed to have for its object rather to win the
attention of others, than to satisfy himself; but it was with the most
lively joy that he soon felt the folly of all his anxiety. Corinne
entirely captivated Mr Edgermond--she not only captivated him by her
genius and her charms, but by inspiring him with that sentiment of
esteem which true characters always obtain of honest ones; and when he
presumed to express a wish to hear her upon a subject of his choice, he
aspired to this favour with as much respect as eagerness. She consented
without for a moment waiting to be pressed, and thus manifested that
this favour had a value independent of the difficulty of obtaining it.
But she felt so lively a desire to please a countryman of Oswald's, a
man who by the consideration which he merited might influence his
opinion in speaking of her, that this sentiment suddenly filled her with
a timidity which was quite new to her: she wished to begin, but her
tongue was suspended by the emotion she felt. Oswald was pained that she
did not dazzle his English friend with all her superiority; his eyes
were cast down, and his embarrassment was so visible, that Corinne,
solely engrossed by the effect that she produced upon him, lost more and
more the presence of mind necessary for improvisation. At length,
sensible of her hesitation, feeling that her words were the offspring of
memory and not of sentiment, and that thus she was neither able to paint
what she thought nor what she really felt, she suddenly stopped and said
to Mr Edgermond, "Pardon me Sir, if upon this occasion timidity has
deprived me of my usual facility; it is the first time, as my friends
can testify, that I have been below myself; but perhaps," added she,
sighing, "it will not be the last."
Oswald was deeply affected by the touching failure of Corinne. Till then
he had always been accustomed to see imagination and genius triumph over
her affections and reanimate her soul at the moment when she was most
cast down; but at this time her mind was entirely fettered by feeling,
yet Oswald had so identified himself with her fame on this occasion,
that he partook of the mortification of her failure, instead of
rejoicing at it. But as it appeared certain, that she would one day
shine with her natural lustre, he yielded to the tender reflections that
arose in his mind, and the image of his mistress was enthroned more than
ever in his heart.
Book vii.