No More Learning

CH A PTE R I .
L ord N evil remained long ex hausted after the trying re-
cital which had thrilled him to the soul. Corinne gently
strove to revive him. The river of flame which fell from
V esuvius fearfully ex cited his imagination. S he availed
herself of this, in order to draw him from his own recol-
lections, and begged him to walk with her on the bank s
of once inflamed lava. The ground they crossed glowed
beneath their steps, and seemed to warn them from a spot
so hostile to all life. Man could not here call himself " lord
of the creation ; " it seemed escaping from his tyranny by
suicide. The torrent of fire is of a dusk y hue, yet when
it lights a vine, or any other tree, it sends forth a clear
bright blaze; but the lava itself is of that lurid tint, which
might represent infernal fire: it rolls on with a crack ling
sound, that alarms the more from its slightness, -- cunning
seems j oined with strength. Thus secretly steals the tiger .
to his prey: this cataract, though so deliberate, loses not a
moment; if it encounter a high wall, or any thing that
opposes its progress, it heaps against the obstacle its black and
bituminous flood, and buries it beneath burning waves.
I ts course is not so rapid but that men may fly before it;
but lik e Time, it overtak es the old or the imprudent, who,
from its silent approach, think to escape without ex ertion.
I ts brightness is such that earth is reflected in the sk y,
which appears lapped in perpetual lightning; this, too, is
mirrored by the sea, and all nature clothed in their three-
fold fires. The wind is heard, and its effect perceived as
it forms a whirlpool of flame round the gulf whence the
lava issues: one trembles to guess at what is passing in the
bosom of the earth, whose fury shak es the ground beneath
our steps. The rock s about the source of this flood are
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? corinne; or italy. 217
covered with pitch and sulphur; whose colours, indeed,
might suit the home of fiends,-- a livid green, a tawny
brown, and an ensanguined red, form j ust that dissonance
to the eye of which the ear were sensible, if pierced by the
harsh cries of witches, conj uring down the moon from
heaven. A ll that is near the volcano bears so supernal
an aspect, that doubtless the poets thence drew their por-
traitures of hell. There we may conceive how man was
first persuaded that a power of evil ex isted to thwart the
designs of Providence. W ell may one ask , in such a scene,
if mercy alone presides over the phenomena of creation;
or if some hidden principle forces nature, lik e her sons,
into ferocity? " Corinne,"
hence that sorrow comes?
wing from yon summit? I
sighed N evil, " is it not from
Does the angel of death tak e
f I beheld not thy heavenly
face, I should lose all memory of the charms with which
the E ternal has adorned the earth; yet this spectacle, fright.
ful as it is, overawes me less than conscience. A ll perils
may be braved; but how can the dead absolve us for the
wrongs we did them living? N ever, never. A h, Corinne!
what need of fires lik e these? The wheel that turns inces-
santly, the stream that tempts and flies, the stone that
rolls back the more we would impel it on,-- these are but
feeble images of that dread thought, the impossible, the ir-
reparable! " A deep silence now reigned around O swald
and Corinne: their very guides were far behind; and near
the crater nought was heard save the hissing of its fires;
suddenly, however, one sound from the city reached even
this region -- the chime of bells, perhaps announcing a
death, perhaps a birth, it mattered not-- most welcome was
it to our travellers. " Dear O swald," said Corinne, " let
us leave this desert, and return to the living world. O ther
mountains raise us above terrestrial life, and bring us
nearer heaven, but here nature seems treated as a criminal,
and condemned no more to taste the beneficent breath of
her Creator. This is no soj ourn for the good-- let us de-
scend! ' A n abundant shower fell as they sought the
plain, threatening each instant to ex tinguish their torches:
the L azzaroni accompanied them with yells that might
alarm any one who k new not that such was their constant
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? 218CO R I N N E ' ,O R I TA L Y .
custom. These men are sometimes agitated by a superfluity
of life, with which they k now not what to do, uniting
eq ual degrees of violence and sloth. Their physiognomy,
more mark ed than their characters, seems to indicate a k ind
of vivacity in which neither mind nor heart are at all
concerned. O swald, uneasy lest the rain should hurt Co-
rinne, and lest their lights should fail, was absorbed by
this indefinite sense of her danger; and his tenderness by
degrees restored that composure which had been disturbed
by the confidence he had made to her. They regained their
carriage at the foot of the mountain, and stopped not at the
ruins of H erculaneum, which are, as it were, buried afresh
beneath the buildings of Portici. They arrived at N aples
near midnight; and Corinne promised N evil, as they took
leave, to give him the history of her life on the morrow.
CH A PTE R I I .
The nex t morning Corinne resolved to impose on herself
the effort she had promised: the intimate k nowledge of
O swald' s character which she had acq uired redoubled her
inq uietude. S he left her chamber, carrying what she had
written in a trembling yet determined hand. S he entered
the sitting-room of their hotel. O swald was there: he had
j ust received letters from E ngland. O ne of them lay on
the mantel-piece: its direction caught her eye; and, with
inex pressible anx
" F rom L ady E
correspond with her?
iety, she ask ed from whom it came.
dgarmond," replied N evil. -- " Do you
was my father' s friend,"
introduced the subj ect, I
"
added Corinne. -- ' ' H er late lord
he said; " and since chance has
will not conceal from you that
they thought it might one day suit me to marry the
daughter, L ucy. " -- " Great God! " cried Corinne, and
sunk , half fainting, on a seat. -- " W hat means this? " de-
manded O swald j " Corinne, what can you fear from one
who loves you to idolatry? H ad my parent' s dying com-
mand been my union with Miss E dgarmond, I certainly
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? corinne; or italy. 219
should not now be free, and would have flown from your
resistless spells; but he merely advised the match, writing
me word that he could form no j udgment of L ucy' s cha-
racter, as she was still a child. 1 have seen her but once,
when scarcely twelve years old. I made no arrangement
with her mother; yet the indecision of my conduct, I own,
has sprung solely from this wish of my father' s. E re I
met you, I hoped for power to complete it, as a sort of ex -
piation, and to prolong, beyond his death, the empire of
his will; but you have triumphed over my whole being,
and I now desire but your pardon for what must have ap-
peared so weak and irresolute in my conduct. Corinne,
we seldom entirely recover from such griefs as I have ex -
perienced: they blight our hopes, and instil a painful
timidity of the future. F ate had so inj ured me, that even
while she offered the greatest of earthly blessings I could
not trust her; but these doubts are over, love: I am thine
for ever, assured that, had my father k nown thee, he would
have chosen such a companion for my life. " -- " H old! "
wept forth Corinne: " I conj ure you, speak not thus to me. "
-- " W hy," said O swald, " why thus constantly oppose
the pleasure I tak e in blending your image with his? thus
wedding the two dearest and most sacred feelings of my
heart? " -- " Y ou cannot," returned Corinne; " too well I
k now you cannot. " -- " J ust H eaven! what have you to
tell me, then? Give me that history of your life. " -- " I
will, but let me beg a week ' s delay, only a week : what
I have j ust learnt obliges me to add a few particulars. " --
" H
-- "
" Y
ow! " said O swald, " what connection have you"
Do not ex act my answer now," interrupted Corinne.
ou will soon k now all, and that, perhaps, will be the
end, the dreaded end of my felicity; but ere it comes, let
us ex plore together the Campagna of N aples, with minds
still accessible to the charms of nature. I n these fair
scenes will I so celebrate the most solemn era of my life,
that you must cherish some memory of Corinne, such as
she was, and might have ever been, had she not loved you,
O swald. " -- " Corinne, what mean these hints? Y ou can
have nothing to disclose which ought to chill my tender
admiration; why then prolong the mystery that raises
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? 220 corinne; or I taly.
barriers between us? " -- " Dear O swald, ' tis my will:
pardon me this last act of power; soon you alone will de-
cide for us both. I shall hear my sentence from your
lips unmurmuringly, even if it be cruel; for I have on this
earth nor love nor duty condemning me to live when
you are lost. " S he withdrew, gently repulsing O swald,
who would fain have followed her.
CH A PTE R I I I .
Corinne decided on giving a fete, united as the idea was
with melancholy associations. S he k new she must be
j udged as a poet, as an artist, ere she could be pardoned
for the sacrifice of her rank , her family, her name, to her
enthusiasm. L ord N evil was indeed capable of appreci-
ating genius, but, in his opinion, the relations of social
life over-ruled all others; and the highest destiny of wo-
man, nay of man too, he thought was accomplished, not
by the ex ercise of intellectual faculties, but by the fulfil-
ment of domestic duties. R emorse, in driving him from
the false path in which he had strayed, fortified the moral
principles innately his. The manners and habits of E ng-
land, a country where such respect for law and duty ex ists,
held, in many respects, a strict control over him. I ndeed
the discouragement deep sorrows inculcate teaches men to
love that natural order which req uires no new resolves, no
decision contrary to the circumstances mark ed for us by
fate. O swald' s love for Corinne modified his every feeling:
but love never wholly effaces the original character, which
she perceived through the passion that now lorded over it;
and, perhaps, his ruling charm consisted in the opposition
of his character to his attachment, giving added value to
every pledge of his love. B ut the hour drew nigh when
the fleeting fears she had constantly banished, and which
had but lightly disturbed her dream of j oy, were to decide
her fate. H er mind, formed for delight, accustomed to the
varying moods of poetry and talent, was wonder-struck at
the sharp fix edness of grief; a shudder thrilled her heart,
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? CO R I N N B ; O R I TA L Y . 221
such as no woman long resigned to suffering ever k new.
Y et, in the midst of the most torturing fears, she secretly
prepared for the one more brilliant evening she might pass
with O swald. F ancy and feeling were thus romantically
blended. S he invited the E nglish who were there, and
some N eapolitans whose society pleased her. O n the day
chosen for this fete, whose morrow might destroy her hap-
piness for ever, a singular wildness animated her features,
and lent them q uite a new ex pression. Careless eyes
might have mistak en it for that of j oy; but her rapid and
agitated movements, her look s that rested no where, proved
but too plainly to N evil the struggle in her heart. V ainly
he strove to soothe her by tender protestations. " Y ou
shall repeat them two days hence, if you will," she said;
" now these soft words but mock me. " The carriages of
Corinne' s party arrived at the close of day, j ust as the sea
breeze refreshed the air, inviting man to the contemplation
of nature. They went first to V irgil' s tomb. I t over-
look s the bay of N aples; and such is the magnificent repose
of this spot, that one is tempted to believe the bard himself
must have selected it. These simple words from his
Georgics might have served him for epitaph:--
" I llo V irgilium me tempore dulcis alebat Parthenope. "
" Then did the soft Parthenope receive me. "
H is ashes here repose, and attract universal homage, --
all, all that man on earth can steal from death. Petrarch set
a laurel beside them-- lik e its planter, it is dead. H e alone
was worthy to have left a lasting trace near such a grave.
O ne feels disgust at the crowd of ignoble names traced by
strangers on the walls about the urn: they trouble the
peace of this classic solitude. I ts present visitants left it
in silence, musing over the images immortalised by the
Mantuan. B lest intercourse between the past and future!
which the art of writing perpetually renews. S hadow of
death, what art thou? Man' s thoughts survive; can he
then be no more? S uch contradiction is impossible.
" O swald," said Corinne, " these impressions are strange
preparatives for a fete; yet," she added, with wild sub-
limity, " how many fetes are held thus near the grave! " --
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? 222CO R I N N E ; O B I TA L Y .
" My life," he said, " whence all this secret dread? Con-
fide in me: for six months have I owed you every thing;
perhaps have shed some pleasure over your path. W ho
then can err so impiously against happiness as to dash
down the supreme bliss of soothing such a soul? it is
much to feel one' s self of use to the most humble mortal;
but Corinne! to be her comfort! trust me, is a glory too
delicious to renounce. " -- " I believe your promises," she
said; " yet there are moments when something strange and
new seizes the heart, and hurries it thus sadly. " They
passed through the Grotto of Pausilipo by torchlight, as
I indeed would have been the case at noon; for it ex tends
nearly a q uarter of a league beneath the mountain, and
in the centre, the light of day, admitted at either ex -
tremity, is scarcely visible. I n this long vault the tramp of
steeds and cries of their drivers resound so stunningly,
that they deaden all thought in the brain. Corinne' s
horses drew her carriage with astonishing rapidity;
yet
did she say, " Dear N evil, how slowly we advance! pray
hasten them. " -- " W hy thus impatient? " he ask ed:
"
ex
"
formerly, while we were together, you sought not to
pedite time, but to enj oy it. " -- " Y et now," she said,
all must be decision; every thing must come to an end;
and I would hasten it, were it my death. " O n leaving the
Grotto you feel a lively sensation at regaining daylight, and
the open country; such a country too! W hat are so often
missed in I taly, fine trees, here flourish in abundance.
I talian earth is every where so spread with flowers, that
woods may better be dispensed with here than in most
other lands. The heat at N aples is so great, that, even
in the shade, it is impossible to walk by day; but in the
evening the sea and sk y alik e shed freshness through the
transparent air: the mountains are so picturesq ue that
painters love to select their landscapes from a country
whose original charm can be ex plained by no comparison
with other realms. " I lead ye," said Corinne, to those
near her, " through the fair scene celebrated by the name
of B ais: we will not pause there now, but gather its recol-
lections into the moment when we reach the spot which
sets them all before us. " I t was on the cape of Micena
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? CO R I N N E ; O R I TA L Y . 223
that she had prepared her fete; nothing could he more
tastefully arranged. S ailors, in habits of contrasted hues,
and some O rientalists from a L evantine bark then in the
port, danced with the peasant girls from I schia and Procida,'
whose costume still preserves a Grecian grace; sweet voices
were heard singing from a distance; and instrumental
music answered from behind the rock s. I t was lik e echo
echoed by sounds that lost themselves in the sea. The
softness of the air animated all around-- even Corinne her-
self. S he was entreated to dance among the rustics: at
first she consented with pleasure, but scarcely had she be-
gun ere her forebodings rendered all amusement odious to
her, and she withdrew to the ex treme verge of the cape;
thither O swald followed, with others, who now begged
her to ex temporise in this lovely scene: her emotions were
such that she permitted them to lead her towards the
elevation on which they had placed her lyre, without
power to comprehend what they ex pected.
CH A PTE R I V .
S till Corinne desired that O swald should once more hear
her, as on the day at the Capitol. I f the talent with which
H eaven had gifted her was about to be ex tinguished for
ever, she wished its last rays to shine on him she loved:
these very fears afforded her the inspiration she req uired.
H er friends were impatient to hear her. E ven the com-
mon people k new her fame; and, as imagination rendered
them j udges of poetry, they closed silently round, their
eager faces ex pressing the deepest attention. The moon
arose; but the last beams of day still paled her light.
F rom the top of the small hill that, standing over the sea,
forms the cape of Micena, V esuvius is plainly seen, and the
bay and isles that stud its bosom. W ith one consent the
friends of Corinne begged her to sing the memories that
scene recalled. S he tuned her lyre, and began with a
brok en voice. H er look was beautiful; but one who k new
her, as O swald did, could there read the trouble of her
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? 224-CO R I N N B ; O R I TA L Y .
soul. S he strove, however, to restrain her feelings, and
once more, if but for awhile, to soar above her personal
situation.
CO R I N N e' sCH A N TI N TH E V I CI N I TY O F N A PL E S .
A y, N ature, H istory, and Poesie,
R ival each other' s greatness : -- here the eye
S weeps with a glance, all wonders and all time.
A dead volcano now, I see thy lak e
A vernus, with the fear-inspiring waves
A cheron, and Phlegeton boiling up
W ith subterranean flame: these are the streams
O f that old hell J E neas visited.
F ire, the devouring life which first creates
The world which it consumes, struck terror most
W hen least its laws were k nown. --
R eveal' d her secrets but to Poetry.
A h! N ature then
The town of Cuma and the S ibyl' s cave,
The temple of A pollo mark ' d this height;
H ere is the wood where grew the bough of gold.
The country of the ^ neid is around;
The fables genius consecrated here
A re memories whose traces still we seek .
A Triton has beneath these billows plunged
The daring Troj an, who in song defied
The sea divinities: still are the rock s
H ollow and sounding, such as V irgil told.
I magination' s truth is from its power:
Man' s genius can create when nature' s felt;
H e copies when he deems that he invents.
A mid these masses, terrible and old,
Creation' s witnesses, you see arise
A younger hill of the volcano born:
F or here the earth is stormy as the sea,
B ut doth not, lik e the sea, peaceful return
W ithin its bounds: the heavy element,
Upshak en by the tremulous abyss,
Digs valleys, and rears mountains; while the waves,
H arden' d to stone, attest the storms which rend
H er depths; strik e now upon the earth,
Y ou hear the subterranean vault resound.
I t is as if the ground on which we dwell
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? CO R I N N E ; O R I TA L Y . 225
I W ere but a surface ready to unclose.
N aples! how doth thy country lik eness bear
To human passions; fertile, sulphurous:
I ts dangers and its pleasures both seem born
O f those inflamed volcanoes, which bestow
Upon the atmosphere so many charms,
Y et bid the thunder growl beneath our feet.
Pliny but studied nature that the more
H e might love I taly; and call' d his land
The loveliest, when all other titles fail' d.
H e sought for science as a warrior seek s
F or conq uest: it was from this very cape
H e went to watch V esuvius through the flames:
Those flames consumed him.
O h Memory! noble power! thy reign is here.
S trange destiny, how thus, from age to age,
Doth man complain of that which he has lost.
S till do departed years, each in their turn,
S eem treasurers of happiness gone by;
A nd while mind, j oyful in its far advance,
Plunges amid the future, still the S oul
S eems to regret some other ancient home
To which it is drawn closer by the past.
W e envy R oman grandeur -- did they not
E nvy their fathers' brave simplicity?
O nce this voluptuous country they despised;
I ts pleasures but subdued their enemies.
| S ee, in the distance, Capua! she o' ercame
The warrior, whose 6 rm soul resisted R ome
More time than did a world.
The R omans in their turn dwelt on these plains,
W hen strength of mind but only served to feel
More deeply shame and grief; effeminate,
They sank without remorse. Y et B aise saw
The conq uer' d sea give place to palaces:
Columns were dug from mountains rent in twain,
A nd the world' s masters, now in their turn slaves,
Made nature subj ect to console themselves
That they were subj ect too.
A nd Cicero on this promontory died:
This Gaeta we see. A h! no regard
Those triumvirs paid to posterity,
R obbing her of the thoughts yet unconceivett
Q
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? 226
CO K I N N E :O B I TA L Y .
O f this great man: their crime continues still;
Committed against us was this offence.
Cicero ' neath the tyrant' s dagger fell,
B ut S cipio, more unhappy, was ex iled
W ith yet his country free. B eside this shore
H e died; and still the ruins of his tomb
R etain the name, " Tower of my native land: " *
Touching allusion to the memory
W hich haunted his great soul.
Marius found a refuge in yon marsh f,
N ear to the S cipio' s home. Thus in all time
H ave nations persecuted their great men.
B ut they ensk ied them after death \ ; and H
eaven,
W here still the R omans deem' d they could command,
R eceived amid her planets R omulus,
N uma, and Caesar; new and dazzling stars!
Mingling together in our erring naze
The rays of glory and celestial light.
A nd not enough alone of misery,
The trace of crime is here. I n yonder gulf behold
The isle of Capri, where at length old age
Disarm' d Tiberius; violent, yet worn;
Cruel, voluptuous; wearied e' en of crime,
H e sought yet viler pleasures; as he were
N ot low enough debased by tyranny.
A nd A grippina' s tomb is on these shores,
F acing the isle ? , rear' d after N ero' s death;
The murderer of his mother had proscribed
E ven her ashes. L ong at B aiae he dwelt
A mid the memories of his many crimes.
W hat wretches fate here brings before our eyes!
Tiberius, N ero, on each other gaze.
The isles, volcano-born amid the sea,
S erved at their birth the crimes of the old world.
The sorrowing ex iles on these lonely rock s,
W atch'
S eek
* " L
d ' mid the waves their native land afar,
ing to catch its perfumes in the air:
a tour de la patrie. " Patrie can scarce be rendered by a single word -
" native land" perhaps best ex presses the ancient patria L . E . L .
+ Minturno.
X " lis sont consoles par 1' apotheose. " This is the only instance in which I
have not given, as nearly as possible, the E nglish word that answered most
ex actly; but I confess one so long as " apotheosis" fairly baffled my efforts to
get it into rhythm. I t is curious to notice how many Pagan observances were
grafted on the R oman Catholic worship. Canonisation is but a Christian
apotheosis, -- only the deceased turned into saints instead of gods L . E . L .
$ Caprea.
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? GO K I N N E ; O R I TA L Y . 227
A nd often, a long ex ile worn away,
S entence of sudden death arrived to show
They were remember' d by their enemies.
O
H
A
E arth ! all bathed with blood and tears, yet never
ast thou ceased putting forth thy fruit and flowers;
nd hast thou then no pity for mank ind?
Can thy maternal breast receive again
Theirdust,andyetnotthrob? L . E . L .
H ere Corinne paused for some moments. A ll her as-
sembled hearers threw laurels and myrtle at her feet.
The soft pure moonlight fell on her brow, and the breeze
wantoned with her ringlets as if nature delighted to
adorn her: she was so overpowered as she look ed on
the enchanting scene, and on O swald, who shared this de-
licious eve with her, yet might not be thus near for ever,
that tears flowed from her eyes. E ven the crowd, who
had j ust applauded her so tumultuously, respected her
emotion, and mutely awaited her words, which they trusted
would mak e them participators in her feelings. S he pre-
luded for some time on her lyre, then, no longer dividing
her song into stanzas, abandoned herself to the uninter-
rupted stream of verse.
S ome memories of the heart, some woman' s manes
Y et ask your tears. ' Twas at this very place,
Massena * , that Cornelia k ept till death
H er noble mourning; A grippina too
L ong wept Germanicus beside these shores.
A t length the same assassin who deprived
H er of her husband found she was at last
W orthy to follow him. A nd yonder isle f
S aw B rutus and his Portia bid farewell.
Thus women loved of heroes have beheld
The obj ect perish which they so adored.
L ong time in vain they follow' d in their path;
There came the hour when they were forced to part.
Portia destroy' d herself; Cornelia clasp' d
The sacred urn which answer' d not her cries;
A nd A grippina, for how many years!
V ainly her husband' s murderer defied.
A nd wander' d here the wretched ones, lik e ghosts
O n wasted shores of the eternal stream,
* The retreat of F ompey. t N isida.
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? 228 corinne; or italy.
S ighing to reach the other far-off land.
Did they not ask in their long solitude
O f silence, of all nature, of the sk y,
S tar-shining ? -- and from the deep sea, one sound,
O ne only tone of the beloved voice
They never more might hear.
Mysterious enthusiasm, L ove!
The heart' s supremest power; -- which doth combine
W ithin itself religion, poetry,
A nd heroism. L ove, what may befall
W hen destiny has bade us separate
F rom him who has the secret of our soul;
W ho gave us the heart' s life, celestial life.
W hat may befall when absence, or when death
I solate woman on this earth ? -- S he pines,
S he sink s. H ow often have these rock s
O ffer' d their cold support to the forlorn!
Those once worn in the heart; -- those once sustain' d
Upon a hero' s arm.
B efore you is S orrento : -- dwelling there
W as Tasso' s sister, when the pilgrim came
A sk ing asylum ' gainst the prince unj ust
F rom humble friends: long grief had almost q
R eason' s clear light, but genius still was left.
uench' d
Y et k ept he k nowledge of the things divine,
W hen earthly images were all obscured.
Thus shrink ing from the desert spread around
Doth Genius wander through the world, and finds
N o lik eness to itself; no echo given
B y N ature; and the common crowd but hold
A s madness that desire of the rapt soul,
W hich finds not in this world enough of air --
O f high enthusiasm, or of hope.
F or Destiny compels ex alted minds:--
The poet, whose imagination draws
I ts power from loving and from suffering,--
They are the vanish' d from another sphere.
F or the A lmighty goodness might not frame
A ll for the few, -- the' elect or the proscribed.
W hy spok e the ancients with such awe of F ate?
W hat had this terrible F ate to do with them,
The common and the q uiet, who pursue
The seasons, and still follow timidly
The beaten track of ordinary life?
B ut she, the priestess of the oracle,
S hook with the presence of the cruel power.
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? corinne; or italy. 229
I k now not what the involuntary force
That plunges Genius into misery.
Genius doth catch the music of the spheres,
W hich mortal ear was never meant to k now.
Genius can penetrate the mysteries
O f feeling, all unk nown to other hearts;
A power hath entered in the inmost soul,
W hose presence may not be contained.
S ublime Creator of this lovely world,
Protect us: our ex ertions have no strength;
O ur hope' s a lie. Tumultuous tyranny
O ur passions ex ercise, and neither leave
R epose nor liberty. W hat we may do
To-morrow may perhaps decide our fate.
W e may have said but yesterday some word
W hich may not be recalled. S till when our mind
I s elevate with noblest thoughts, we feel
A s on the height of some great edifice,
Giddiness blending all things in our sight;
B ut even there, woe! terrible woe! appears.
N ot lost amid the clouds, it pierces through;
I t flings the shades asunder; O h my God!
W hatdothitheraldtous? " L . E . L .
A t these words a mortal paleness overspread her coun-
tenance; her eyes closed; and she would have fallen to the
earth, had not O swald rushed to support her.
CHAPTER V.
Corinne revived: the affecting interest of O swald' s look
restored her to some composure. The N eapolitans were
surprised at the gloomy character of her poetry, much as
they admired it. They thought it the Muse' s task to dis-
sipate the cares of life, and not to ex plore their terrible
secrets; but the E nglish who were present seemed deeply
touched. Their own melancholy, embellished by I talian
imagination, delighted them. This lovely woman, whose
features seemed designed to depict felicity,-- this child of
the sun, a prey to hidden grief,-- was lik e a flower, still
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? 230CO R I N N E ; O R I TA L Y .
(
fresh and brilliant, but within whose leaves may be seen
the first dark impress of that withering blight which soon
shall lay it low. The party embark ed to return: the
glowing calm of the hour made it a lux ury to be upon the
sea. Goethe has described, in a delicious romance, the
passion felt, in warm climates, for the water. A nymph
of the flood boasts to the fisherman the charms of her
abode; invites him to taste its refreshment, and, by degrees,
allures him to his death. This magic of the tide resembles
that of the basilisk , which fascinates by fear. The wave
rising gently afar, swelling, and hurrying as it nears the
shore, is but a type of passion that dawns in softness, but
soon grows invincible. Corinne put back her tresses, that
she might better enj oy the air: her countenance was thus
more beautiful than ever. The musicians, who followed
in another boat, poured forth enchantments that harmonised
with the stars, the sea, and the sweet intox ication of an
I talian evening. " O h, my heart' s love! " whispered O s-
wald, " can I ever forget this day, or ever enj oy a happier? "
H is eyes filled with tears. O ne of his most seductive
attributes was this ready yet restrained sensibility, which
so oft, in spite of him, bedewed his lids: at such moments
he was irresistible: sometimes even in the midst of an en-
dearing pleasantry, a melting thrill stole on his mirth, and
lent it a new, a noble charm. " A las! " returned Corinne,
" I hope not for another day lik e this; but be it blest, at
least, as the last such of my life, if forbidden to prove the
dawn of more endearing bliss. "
CH A PTE R V I .
The weather changed ere they reached N aples: the heavens
dark ened, and the coming storm, already felt in the air,
convulsed the waves, as if the sea sympathised with the
sk y.