Chapter i.
A fortnight passed away, during which Lord Nelville dedicated himself entirely to the society of Corinne. He quitted his lodgings but to go and visit her—he saw nothing—he sought nothing but her; and, without ever mentioning his passion, he made her sensible of it at every moment of the day. She was accustomed to the lively and flattering homage of the Italians; but Oswald's dignity of manners, his apparent coldness, and the sensibility which he betrayed in spite of himself, produced a more powerful effect upon her imagination.—Never did he relate a generous action, never did he speak of a misfortune, without his eyes being filled with tears; but he always endeavoured to conceal his emotion. He inspired Corinne with a sentiment of respect such as she had not felt for a long time before. No wit, however sparkling, could dazzle her; but she was deeply interested by elevation and dignity of character. Lord Nelville joined to these qualities, a nobleness in his expressions, an elegance in the least actions of his life, which formed a striking contrast to the negligence and familiarity of the greater part of the Roman nobility.
Though the tastes of Oswald were in some respects different from those of Corinne, they mutually understood each other in a most wonderful manner. Nelville conjectured the impressions of Corinne with perfect sagacity, and Corinne discovered, in the slightest alteration of Nelville's countenance, what passed in his mind. Accustomed to the stormy demonstrations of passion that characterise the Italians, this timid but proud attachment, this passion, incessantly proved, but never avowed, spread a new charm over her existence: she felt as if encircled with a calmer and purer atmosphere, and every instant of the day inspired her with a sentiment of happiness which she loved to enjoy without accounting for it.
One morning Prince Castel-Forte visited her—he appeared sorrowful—she asked him the cause of his sorrow. "This Scotsman," said he to her, "is about to deprive us of your affections; and who knows even, whether he will 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 he loved me." "You are, notwithstanding, convinced of it," answered Prince Castel-Forte; "his conduct is sufficiently eloquent, and even his silence is a powerful means of interesting you.—What can language express that you have not heard? What kind of praise is there that has not been offered you? What species of homage is there that you are not accustomed to receive? But there is something concealed in the character of Lord Nelville which will never allow you to know him entirely as you know us. There is no person in the world whose character is more easy than yours to become acquainted with; but it is precisely because you shew yourself without disguise that mystery and reserve have a pleasing ascendancy over you. That which is unknown, be it what it may, influences you more strongly than all the sentiments which are manifested 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 qualities sufficiently remarkable to render it impossible that I can flatter myself with having discovered them." "He is, I agree," answered Prince Castel-Forte, "proud, generous and intelligent; with much sensibility too, and particularly melancholy; but I am very much deceived, or there is not the least sympathy of taste between you. You do not perceive it while he is under the charm of your presence, but your empire over him would 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 of discouragement, which must destroy the energy of his resolutions; and you know, besides, how much the English in general are enslaved to the manners and habits of their country."
At these words Corinne was silent and sighed. Painful reflections on the first events of her life were retraced in her mind; but in the evening she saw Oswald again, more her slave than ever; and all that remained in her mind of the conversation of Prince Castel-Forte was the desire of fixing Lord Nelville in Italy by making him enamoured of the beauties of every kind with which that country abounds. It was with this intention that she wrote to him the following letter. The freedom of the life which 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 with vivacity.
Corinne to Lord Nelville.
Dec. 15th, 1794.
"I do not know, my lord, whether you will think me too confident in myself, or whether you will do justice to the motives which may excuse that confidence. Yesterday I heard you say that you had not yet seen Rome, that you were neither acquainted with the masterpieces of our fine arts, nor those ancient ruins which teach us history by imagination and sentiment, and I have conceived the idea of presuming to offer myself as your guide in this journey through a course of centuries.
"Without doubt, Rome could easily present a great number of scholars whose profound erudition might be much more useful to you, but if I can succeed in inspiring you with a love for this retreat, towards which I have always felt myself so imperiously attracted, your own studies will finish the rude draft which I shall have begun.
"Many foreigners come to Rome as they would go to London or to Paris, to seek the dissipation of a great city; and if they dared confess they were bored at Rome, I believe the greater part would confess it; but it is equally true that here may be found a charm that never tires. Will you pardon me, my lord, a wish that this charm were known to you.