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Chapter i.
Oswald was proud of carrying off his conquest; he who felt himself
almost always disturbed in his enjoyments by reflections and regrets,
for once did not experience the pangs of uncertainty. It was not that he
was decided, but he did not think about it and followed the tide of
events hoping it would lead him to the object of his wishes.
They traversed the district of Albano[32], where is still shown what is
believed to be the tomb of the Horatii and the Curiatii. They passed
near the lake of Nemi and the sacred woods that surround it. It is said
that Hippolitus was resuscitated by Diana in these parts; she would not
permit horses to approach it, and by this prohibition perpetuated the
memory of her young favourite's misfortune. Thus in Italy our memory is
refreshed by History and Poetry almost at every step, and the charming
situations which recall them, soften all that is melancholy in the past,
and seem to preserve an eternal youth.
Oswald and Corinne traversed the Pontine marshes--a country at once
fertile and pestilential,--where, with all the fecundity of nature, a
single habitation is not to be found. Some sickly men change your
horses, recommending to you not to sleep in passing the marshes; for
sleep there is really the harbinger of death. The plough which some
imprudent cultivators will still sometimes guide over this fatal land,
is drawn by buffaloes, in appearance at once mean and ferocious, whilst
the most brilliant sun sheds its lustre on this melancholy spectacle.
The marshy and unwholesome parts in the north are announced by their
repulsive aspect; but in the more fatal countries of the south, nature
preserves a serenity, the deceitful mildness of which is an illusion to
travellers. If it be true that it is very dangerous to sleep in crossing
the Pontine marshes, their invincible soporific influence in the heat of
the day is one of those perfidious impressions which we receive from
this spot. Lord Nelville constantly watched over Corinne. Sometimes she
leant her head on Theresa who accompanied them; sometimes she closed her
eyes, overcome by the languor of the air. Oswald awakened her
immediately, with inexpressible terror; and though he was naturally
taciturn, he was now inexhaustible in subjects of conversation, always
well supported and always new, to prevent her from yielding to this
fatal sleep. Ah! should we not pardon the heart of a woman the cruel
regret which attaches to those days when she was beloved, when her
existence was so necessary to that of another, when at every moment she
was supported and protected? What isolation must succeed this season of
delight! How happy are they whom the sacred hand of Hymen has conducted
from love to friendship, without one painful moment having embittered
their course!
Oswald and Corinne, after the anxious passage of the marshes, at length
arrived at Terracina, on the sea coast, near the confines of the kingdom
of Naples. It is there that the south truly begins; it is there that it
receives travellers in all its magnificence. Naples, _that happy
country_, is, as it were, separated from the rest of Europe by the sea
which surrounds it and by that dangerous district which must be passed
in order to arrive at it. One would say that nature, wishing to secure
to herself this charming abode, has designedly made all access to it
perilous. At Rome we are not yet in the south; we have there a foretaste
of its sweets, but its enchantment only truly begins in the territory of
Naples. Not far from Terracina is the promontory fixed upon by the poets
as the abode of Circe: and behind Terracina rises Mount Anxur, where
Theodoric, king of the Goths, had placed one of those strong castles
with which the northern warriors have covered the earth. There are few
traces of the invasion of Italy by the barbarians; or at least, where
those traces consist in devastation, they are confounded with the
effects of time. The northern nations have not given to Italy that
warlike aspect which Germany has preserved. It seems that the gentle
soil of Ausonia was unable to support the fortifications and citadels
which bristle in northern countries. Rarely is a Gothic edifice or a
feudal castle to be met with here; and the monuments of the ancient
Romans reign alone triumphant over Time, and the nations by whom they
have been conquered.
The whole mountain which dominates Terracina, is covered with orange and
lemon trees, which embalm the air in a delicious manner. There is
nothing in our climate that resembles the southern perfume of lemon
trees in the open air; it produces on the imagination almost the same
effect as melodious music; it gives a poetic disposition to the soul,
stimulates genius, and intoxicates with the charms of nature. The aloe
and the broad-leaved cactus, which are met here at every step, have a
peculiar aspect, which brings to mind all that we know of the formidable
productions of Africa. These plants inspire a sort of terror: they seem
to belong to a violent and despotic nature. The whole aspect of the
country is foreign: we feel ourselves in another world, a world which is
only known by the descriptions of the ancient poets, who have at the
same time so much imagination and so much exactness in their
descriptions. On entering Terracina, the children threw into the
carriage of Corinne an immense quantity of flowers which they gather by
the road-side or on the mountain, and which they carelessly scatter
about; such is their reliance on the prodigality of nature! The carts
which bring home the harvest from the fields are every day ornamented
with garlands of roses, and sometimes the children surround the cups
they drink out of with flowers; for beneath such a sky the imagination
of the common people becomes poetical. By the side of these smiling
pictures the sea, whose billows lashed the shore with fury, was seen and
heard. It was not agitated by the storm; but by the rocks which stand in
habitual opposition to its waves, irritating its grandeur.
E non udite ancor come risuona
Il roco ed alto fremito marino?
_And do you not hear still the hoarse and deep roar of the sea?_
This motion without aim, this strength without object which is renewed
throughout eternity without our being able to discover either its cause
or its end, attracts us to the shore, where this grand spectacle offers
itself to our sight; and we experience, as it were, a desire mingled
with terror, to approach the waves and to deaden our thoughts by their
tumult.
Towards the evening all was calm. Corinne and Lord Nelville walked into
the country; they proceeded with a slow pace silently enjoying the scene
before them. Each step they took crushed the flowers and extorted from
them their delicious perfumes; the nightingales, resting on the
rose-bushes, willingly lent their song, so that the purest melodies were
united to the most delicious odours; all the charms of nature mutually
attracted each other, while the softness of the air was beyond
expression. When we contemplate a fine view in the north, the climate in
some degree disturbs the pleasure which it inspires: those slight
sensations of cold and humidity are like a false note in a concert, and
more or less distract your attention from what you behold; but in
approaching Naples you experience the friendly smiles of nature, so
perfectly and without alloy, that nothing abates the agreeable
sensations which they cause you. All the relations of man in our climate
are with society. Nature, in hot countries, puts us in relation with
external objects, and our sentiments sweetly expand. Not but that the
south has also its melancholy. In what part of the earth does not human
destiny produce this impression? But in this melancholy there is neither
discontent, anxiety, nor regret. In other countries it is life, which,
such as it is, does not suffice for the faculties of the soul; here the
faculties of the soul do not suffice for life, and the superabundance of
sensation inspires a dreamy indolence, which we can hardly account for
when oppressed with it.
During the night, flies of a shining hue fill the air; one would say
that the mountain emitted sparks of fire, and that the burning earth had
let loose some of its flames. These insects fly through the trees,
sometimes repose on the leaves, and the wind blows these minute stars
about, varying in a thousand ways their uncertain light. The sand also
contained a great number of metallic stones, which sparkled on every
side: it was the land of fire, still preserving in its bosom the traces
of the sun, whose last rays had just warmed it. There is a life, and at
the same time, a repose, in this nature, which entirely satisfies the
various desires of human existence.
Corinne abandoned herself to the charms of this evening, and was
penetrated with joy; nor could Oswald conceal the emotion they
inspired--many times he pressed Corinne to his heart, many times he drew
back from her, then returned, then drew back again out of respect to her
who was to be the companion of his life. Corinne felt no alarm, for such
was her esteem for Oswald, that if he had demanded the entire surrender
of her being she would have considered that request as a solemn vow to
espouse her; but she saw him triumph over himself, and this conquest was
an honour paid her; whilst her heart felt that plenitude of happiness,
and of love, which does not permit us to form another desire. Oswald was
far from being so calm: he was fired with the charms of Corinne. Once he
threw himself at her feet with violence, and seemed to have lost all
empire over his passion; but Corinne regarded him with such an
expression of sweetness and fear, she made him so sensible of his power
while beseeching him not to abuse it, that this humble entreaty inspired
him with more respect than any other could possibly have done.
They then perceived in the sea, the reflection of a torch carried by the
unknown hand of one who traversed the shore, repairing secretly to a
neighbouring house. "He is going to see the object of his love;" said
Oswald.--"Yes," answered Corinne. "And my happiness, for to-day, is
about to end,"--resumed Oswald. At this moment the looks of Corinne were
lifted towards heaven, and her eyes suffused with tears. Oswald, fearing
that he had offended her, fell on his knees to entreat her forgiveness
for that love which had overpowered him. "No," said Corinne, stretching
forth her hand to him, and inviting him to return with her. "No,
Oswald, I feel no alarm: you will respect her who loves you: you know
that a simple request from you would be all-powerful with me; it is
therefore you who must be my security--you who would for ever reject me
as your bride, if you had rendered me unworthy of being so." "Well,"
answered Oswald, "since you believe in this cruel empire of your will
upon my heart, Corinne, whence arises your sadness?"--"Alas!" replied
she, "I was saying to myself, that the moments which I have just passed
with you were the happiest of my life, and as I turned my eyes in
gratitude to heaven, I know not by what chance, a superstition of my
childhood revived in my heart. The moon which I contemplated was covered
with a cloud, and the aspect of that cloud was fatal. I have always
found in the sky a countenance sometimes paternal and sometimes angry;
and I tell you, Oswald, heaven has to-night condemned our love."--"My
dear," answered Lord Nelville, "the only omens of the life of man, are
his good or evil actions; and have I not this very evening, immolated my
most ardent desires on the altar of virtue?"--"Well, so much the better
if you are not included in this presage," replied Corinne; "it may be
that this angry sky has only threatened me."