S he was a phenomenon every day new; but the
very wonder she inspired seemed to lessen his hopes of
domestic tranq uillity.
very wonder she inspired seemed to lessen his hopes of
domestic tranq uillity.
Madame de Stael - Corinna, or Italy
" Comedy," she said, " as de-
pending on observation of manners, can only ex ist in a
country accustomed to a great and varied population.
I taly is animated but by violent passions or effeminate
enj oyments. S uch passions give birth to crimes that con-
found all shades of character. B ut that ideal comedy,
which suits all times, all countries, was invented here.
H arleq uin, pantaloon, and clown are to be found in every
piece of that description. E very where they have rather
mask s than faces; that is, they wear the physiognomy of
their class, and not of individuals. Doubtless our modern
authors found these parts all made to their hands, lik e the
pawns of a chess-board; but these fantastic creations, which,
from one end of E urope to the other, still amuse not only
children, but men whom fancy renders childish, surely
give the I talians some claim on the art of comedy. O bser-
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 112CO B I N N E ; O R I TA L Y .
vation of the human heart is an inex haustible source of lite-
rature; but nations rather romantic than reflective yield
themselves more readily to the delirium of j oy than to phi-
losophic satire. S omething of sadness lurk s beneath the
pleasantry founded on a k nowledge of mank ind; the most
truly inoffensive gaiety is that which is purely imaginative.
N ot that I talians do not shrewdly study those with whom
they are concerned. They detect the most private thoughts,
as subtly as others; but they are not wont to mak e a lite-
rary use of the acuteness which mark s their conduct.
Perhaps they are reluctant to generalise and to publish their
discoveries. Prudence may forbid their wasting on mere
plays what may serve to guide their behaviour, or con-
verting into witty fictions that which they find so useful in
real life. N evertheless Machiavel, who has made k nown all
the secrets of criminal policy, may serve to show of what
terrible sagacity the I talian mind is capable. Goldoni,
who lived in V enice, where society is at its best, introduced
more observation into his work s than is commonly
found. Y et his numerous comedies want variety both of
character and situation. They seem modelled not on
life, but on the generality of theatrical pieces. I rony is not
the true character of I talian wit. I t is A riosto, and not
Moliere, who can amuse us here. Gozzi, the rival of
Goldoni, had much more irregular originality. H e gave
himself up freely to his genius; mingling buffoonery with
magic, imitating nothing in nature, but dealing with
those fairy chimeras that bear the mind beyond the
boundaries of this world. H e had a prodigious success in
his day, and perhaps is the best specimen of I talian comic
fancy; but, to ascertain what our tragedy and comedy
might become, they must be allowed a theatre, and a
company. A host of small towns dissipate the few re-
sources that might be collected. That division of states,
usually so favourable to public welfare, is destructive of it
here. W e want a centre of light and power, to pierce the
mists of surrounding prej udice. The authority of a go-
vernment would be a blessing, if it contended with the
ignorance of men, isolated among themselves, in separate
provinces, and, by awak ening emulation, gave life to a
people now content with a dream. "
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? CO H I N N E ; O R I TA L Y . 113
These and other discussions were spiritedly put forth
by Corinne; she eq ually understood the art of that light
and rapid style, which insists on nothing; in her wish to
please, adopting each by turns, though freq uently abandon-
ing herself to the talent which had rendered her so cele-
brated as an improvisatrice. O ften did she call on Castel
F orte to support her opinions by his own; but she spok e
so well, that all her auditors listened with delight, and could
not have endured an interruption. Mr. E dgarmond, above
all, could never have wearied of seeing and hearing her:
he hardly dared ex plain to himself the admiration she
ex cited; and whispered some words of praise, trusting that
she would understand, without obliging him to repeat them.
H e felt, however, so anx ious to hear her sentiments on
tragedy, that, in spite of his timidity, he risk ed the q uestion.
" Madame," he said, " it appears to me that tragedies are
what your literature wants most. I think that yours come
less near an eq uality with our own, than children do to
men: for childish sensibility, if light, is genuine; while
your serious dramas are so stilted and unnatural, that they
stifle all emotion. A m I not right, my lord? " he added,
turning his eyes towards N evil, with an appeal for assist-
ance, and astonished at himself for having dared to say so
much before so large a party. -- " I think j ust as you do,"
returned O swald: " Metastasio, whom they vaunt as the
bard of love, gives that passion the same colouring in all
countries and situations. H is songs, indeed, abound with
grace, harmony, and lyric beauty, especially when detached
from the dramas to which they belong; but it is impossible
for us, whose S hak speare is indisputably the poet who has
most profoundly fathomed the depths of human passions,
to bear with the fond pairs who fill nearly all the scenes of
Metastasio, and, whether called A chilles or Thyrsis, B rutus
or Corilas, all sing in the same strain, the martyrdom
they endure, and depict, as a species of insipid idiotcy, the
most stormy impulse that can wreck the heart of man. I t
is with real respect for A lfieri that I venture a few com-
ments on his work s, their aim is so noble! The sentiments
of the author so well accord with the life of the man, that
his tragedies ought always to be praised as so many great
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 114 corinne; or italy.
actions, even though they may be criticised in a literary
sense. I t strik es me, that some of them have a monotony
in their vigour, as Metastasio' s have in their sweetness.
A lfieri gives us such a profusion of energy and worth, or
such an ex aggeration of violence and guilt, that it is im-
possible to recognise one human being among his heroes.
Men are never either so vile or so generous as he describes
them. The obj ect is to contrast vice with virtue; but
these contrasts lack the gradations of truth. I f tyrants
were obliged to put up with half he mak es their victims
say to their faces, one would really feel tempted to pity
them. I n the tragedy of ' O ctavia,' this outrage of proba-
bility is most apparent. S eneca lectures N ero, as if the
one were the bravest, and the other the most patient of
men. The master of the world allows himself to be in-
sulted, and put in a rage, scene after scene, as if it were
not in his own power to end all this by a single word. I t
is certain, that, in these continual dialogues, S eneca utters
max ims which one might pride to hear in a harangue or
read in a dissertation; but is this the way to give an idea
of tyranny ? -- instead of investing it with terror, to set it up
as a block against which to tilt with wordy weapons! H ad
S hak speare represented N ero surrounded by trembling
slaves, who scarce dared answer the most indifferent q ues-
tion, himself vainly endeavouring to appear at ease, and
S eneca at his side, composing the apology for A grippina' s
murder, would not our horror have been a thousand times
more great? and, for one reflection made by the author,
would not millions have arisen, in the spectator' s mind,
from the silent rhetoric of so true a picture? " O swald
might have spok en much longer ere Corinne would have
interrupted him, so fascinated was she by the sound of his
voice, and the turn of his ex pressions. S carce could she
remove her gaze from his countenance, even when he ceased
to speak ; then, as her friends eagerly ask ed what she
thought of I talian tragedy, she answered by addressing her-
self to N evil. -- " My lord, I so entirely agree with you,
that it is not as a disputant I reply: but to mak e some
ex ceptions to your, perhaps, too general rules. I t is true
that Metastasis is rather a lyric than a dramatic poet; and
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? corinne; or italy. 115
that he depicts love rather as one of the fine arts that em-
bellish life, than as the secret source of our deepest j oys and
sorrows. A lthough our poetry has been chiefly devoted to
love, I will hazard the assertion that we have more truth
and power in our portraitures of every other passion. F or
amatory themes, a k ind of conventional style has been
formed amongst us; and poets are inspired by what they
have read, not by their own feelings. L ove as it is in
I taly, bears not the slightest resemblance to love such as
our authors describe.
" I k now but one romance, the' F iammetta'
in which the passion is attired in its truly national colours.
I talian love is a deep and rapid impression, more freq
betrayed by the silent ardour of our deeds, than by inge-
nious and highly wrought language. O ur literature, in
general, bears but a faint stamp of our manners. W e are
too humbly modest to found tragedies on our own history,
or fill them with our own emotions. (17) A lfieri, by a
singular chance, was transplanted from antiq uity into mo-
dern times. H e was born for action; yet permitted but
to write: his style resented this restraint. H e wished by
a literary road to reach a political goal ,? a noble one, but
such as spoils all work s of fancy. H e was impatient of
living among learned writers and enlightened readers, who,
nevertheless, cared for nothing serious; but amused them-
selves with madrigals and nouvellettes. A lfieri sought to
give his tragedies a more austere character. H e retrenched
every thing that could interfere with the interest of his
dialogue; as if determined to mak e his countrymen do
penance for their natural vivacity. Y et he was much ad-
mired ; because he was truly great, and because the in-
habitants of R ome applaud all praise bestowed on the
ancient R omans, as if it belonged to themselves. They
are amateurs of virtue, as of the pictures their galleries
possess; but A lfieri has not created any thing that may
be called the I talian drama; that is, a school of tra-
gedy, in which a merit peculiar to I taly may be found.
H e has not even characterised the manners of the times
and countries he selected. H is ' Pazzi,' ' V irginia,' and
' Philip I I . ' are replete with powerful and elevated thought;
i2
of B
occaccio,
uently
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 116 CO R I N N E ; O B I TA L Y .
but you every where find the impress of A lfieri, not that
of the scene nor of the period assumed. W idely as he
differs from all F rench authors in most respects, he re-
sembles them in the habit of painting every subj ect he
touches with the hues of his own mind. " -- A t this allusion
d' E rfenil observed, " I t would be impossible for us to
brook on our stage either the insignificance of the Grecians,
or the monstrosities of S hak speare. The F rench have too
much taste. O ur drama stands alone for elegance and deli.
cacy: to introduce any thing foreign, were to plunge us
into barbarism. " -- " Y ou would as soon think of sur-
rounding F rance with the great wall of China! " said
Corinne, smiling: " yet the rare beauties of your tragic
authors would be better developed, if you would sometimes
permit others besides F renchmen to appear in their scenes.
B ut we, poor I talians, would lose much, by confining our-
selves to rules that must confer on us less honour than
constraint. The national character ought to form the
national theatre. W e love the fine arts, music, scenery,
even pantomime; all, in fact, that strik es our senses. H ow,
then, can a drama, of which eloq uence is the best charm,
content us? I n vain did A lfieri strive to reduce us to this;
he himself felt that his system was too rigorous. (18)
H is ' S aul,' Maffei' s ' Merope,' Monti' s ' A ristodemus,'
above all, the poetry of Dante (though he never wrote a
tragedy), seem to give the best notion of what the dra-
matic art might become here. I n ' Merope' the action is
simple, but the language glorious; why should such style
be interdicted in our plays? V erse becomes so magnificent
in I talian, that we ought to be the last people to renounce
its beauty. A lfieri, who, when he pleased, could ex cel in
every way, has in his ' S aul' made superb use of lyric poetry;
and, indeed, music itself might there be very happily intro-
duced; not to interrupt the dialogue, but to calm the fury
of the k ing, by the harp of David. W e possess such
delicious music, as may well inebriate all mental power;
we ought, therefore, instead of separating, to unite these
attributes; not by mak ing our heroes sing, which destroys
their dignity, but by choruses, lik e those of the ancients,
connected by natural link s with the main situation, as often
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? corinne; or italy. 117
happens in real life. F ar from rendering the I talian drama
less imaginative, I think we ought in every way to increase
the illusive pleasure of the audience. O ur lively taste for
music, ballet, and spectacle, is a proof of powerful fancy,
and a necessity to interest ourselves incessantly, even in
thus sporting with serious images, instead of rendering
them more severe than they need be, as did A lfieri. W e
think it our duty to applaud whatever is grave and ma-
j estic, but soon return to our natural tastes; and are satis-
fied with any tragedy, so it be embellished by that va-
riety which the E nglish and S paniards so highly appre-
ciate. Monti' s ' A ristodemus' partak es the terrible pathos
of Dante; and has surely a j ust title to our pride. Dante,
so versatile a master-spirit, possessed a tragic genius, which
would have produced a grand effect, if he could have
adapted it to the stage: he k new how to set before the
eye whatever passed in the soul; he made us not only feel
but look upon despair. H ad he written plays, they must
have affected young and old, the many as well as the few.
Dramatic literature must be in some way popular; a whole
nation constitute its j udges. " -- " S ince the time of Dante,"
said O swald, " I taly has played a great political part --
ere it can boast a national tragic school, great events must
call forth, in real life, the emotions which become the stage.
O f all literary chefs d' wuvre, a tragedy most thoroughly be-
longs to a whole people: the author' s genius is matured by
the public spirit of his audience; by the government and
manners of his country; by all, in fact, which recurs each
day to the mind, forming the moral being, even as the air we
breathe invigorates our physical life. The S paniards, whom
you resemble in climate and in creed, have, nevertheless,
far more dramatic talent. Their pieces are drawn from
their history, their chivalry, and religious faith: they are
original and animated. Their success in this way may
restore them to their former fame as a nation; but how
can we found in I
never possessed?
turned Corinne, "
taly a style of tragedy which she has
" -- " I have better hopes, my lord," re-
from the soaring spirits that are among
us, though unfavoured as yet by circumstances; but what
we most need is histrionic ability. A ffected language in-
i3
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 118 corinne; or italy.
duces false declamation; yet there is no tongue in which
a great actor could evince more potency than in our own;
for melodious sounds lend an added charm to j ust accentu-
ation, without rohhing it of its force. " -- " I f you would
convince us of this/' interrupted Castel F orte, " do so, by
giving us the inex pressible pleasure of seeing you in tra-
gedy: you surely consider your foreign friends worthy of
witnessing the talent which you monopolise in I taly; and
in which (as your own soul is peculiarly ex pressed in it)
you can have no superior on earth. "
Corinne secretly desired to perform before O swald, and
thus appear to the best advantage; but she could not con-
sent without his approval: her look s req uested it. H e
understood them; and, ambitious that she should charm
Mr. E dgarmond in a manner which her yesterday' s timidity
had prevented, he j oined his solicitations to those of her other
guests. S he hesitated no longer. -- " W ell, then," she said
to Castel F orte, " we will, if you please, accomplish a long-
formed scheme of mine, that of playing my translation of
' R omeoandJ uliet. ' " -- " W hat! " ex claimedE dgarmond,
" Do you understand E nglish, and love S hak speare ? " --
" A safriend," shereplied. -- " A ndyouwillplayJ uliet
in I talian? and I shall hear you? and you, too, dear N evil!
H ow happy you will be! " Then, instantly repenting his
indiscretion, he blushed. The blush of delicacy and k ind-
ness is at all ages interesting. -- " H ow happy we shall
be," he added, with embarrassment, " if we may be present
at such a mental banq uet! "
CH A PTE R I I I .
A ll was arranged in a few days; parts distributed, the
night fix ed on, and the palace of a relative of Prince Castel
F orte devoted to the representation. O swald felt at once
disq uiet and delight; he enj oyed Corinne' s success, by
anticipation; but even thus grew j ealous, beforehand, of no
one man in particular, but of the public, who woidd witness
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? CO R I N N E J O R I TA L Y . 119
an ex cellence of which he felt as if he alone had a right to
be aware. H e would have had Corinne reserve her charms
for him, and appear to others as timid as an E nglishwoman.
H owever distinguished a man may be, he rarely feels un-
q ualified pleasure in the superiority of a woman. I f he
does not love her, his self-esteem tak es offence ; if he does,
his heart is oppressed by it. B eside Corinne, O swald was
rather intox icated than happy: the admiration she ex -
cited increased his passion, without giving stability to his
intents.
S he was a phenomenon every day new; but the
very wonder she inspired seemed to lessen his hopes of
domestic tranq uillity. S he was, notwithstanding, so gentle,
so easy to live with, that she might have been beloved for
her lowliest attributes, independent of all others; yet it
was by these others that she had become remark able.
L ord N evil, with all his advantages, thought himself be-
neath her, and doubted the duration of their attachment.
I n vain did she mak e herself his slave: the conq ueror was
too much in awe of his captive q ueen to enj oy his realm
in peace. S ome hours before the performance, N evil led
her to the house of the Princess, where the theatre had
been fitted up. The sun shone beautifully; and at one of
the staircase windows, which commanded a view of R
and the Campagna, he paused a moment, saying, "
hold, how heaven itself lights you to victory ! " --
B
ome
e-
" I
to you, who point out its favour, that I owe such protec-
tion, then," she replied. " Tell me," he added, " do the
pure emotions k indled by the sweetness of nature suffice
to please you? R emember this is a very different air from
t is
obtain
that you will respire in the tumultuous hall which soon will
re-echo your name? " -- " O swald," she said, "
applause, will it not be because you hear it that it may
touch my heart? I f I display any talent, is it not my
love for you that inspires me? Poetry, religion, all en-
thusiastic feelings, are in harmony with nature; and
while gazing on the azure sk y, while yielding to the re-
verie it creates, I understand better than ever the senti-
ments of J uliet, I become more worthy of R omeo. "
" Y es, thou art worthy of him, celestial creature! "
if I
--
cried
N evi1: " this j ealous wish to be alone with thee in the uni-
i4
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 120 corinne;
verse, is, I
the world!
or italy.
own, a weak ness. Go! receive the homage of
but be thy love, which is more divine even
than thy genius, directed to none but me! " They parted,
anu O swald took his place, awaiting her appearance on the
stage. I n V erona the tomb of R omeo and J uliet is still
shown. S hak speare has written this play with truly
southern fancy; at once impassioned and vivacious;
triumphant in delight; and rushing from voluptuous
felicity to despair and death. I ts sudden love, we feel,
from the first, will never be effaced; for the force of
nature, beneath a burning clime, and not habitual fick le-
ness, gives it birth. The sun is not capricious, though
the vegetation be rapid; and S hak speare, better than any
other foreign poet, k new how to seize the national character
of I taly,-- that fertility of mind which invents a thousand
varied ex pressions for the same emotion; that O riental
eloq uence which borrows images from all nature, to
clothe the sensations of young hearts. I n O ssian one
chord constantly replies to the thrill of sensibility; but in
S hak speare nothing is cold nor same. A sunbeam, divided
and reflected in a thousand varied ways, produces endlessly
multiplied tints, all telling of the light and heat from
whence they are derived. Thus " R omeo and J uliet,"
lated into I talian, seems but resuming its own mother-
tongue.
The first meeting of the lovers is at a ball given by the
Capulets, mortal enemies of the Montagues. Corinns was
charmingly attired, her tresses mix ed with gems and
flowers; and at first sight scarce appeared herself: her
voice, however, was soon recognised, as was her face,
though now almost deified by poetic fire. Unanimous
applause rung through the house as she appeared. H er
trans-
first look discovered O swald, and rested on him, spark ling
with hope and love. The gazers' hearts beat with rapture
and with fear, as if beholding happiness too great to last
on earth. B ut was it for Corinne to realise such a pre-
sentiment? W hen R omeo drew near, to whisper his sense
of her grace and beauty, in lines so glowing in E nglish, so
magnificent in I talian, the spectators, transported at being
thus interpreted, fully entered into the passion whose
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? cohinne; or italy. 121
hasty dawn appeared more than ex cusable. O swald be-
came all uneasiness; he felt as if every man was ready to
proclaim her an angel among women, to challenge him on
what he felt for her, to dispute his rights, and tear her
from his arms. A dazzling cloud passed before his eyes;
he feared that he should faint, and concealed himself
behind a pillar. Corinne' s eyes anx iously sought him,
and with so deep a tone did she pronounce
" Too early seen unk nown, and k nown too late! "
that he trembled as if she applied these words to their
personal situation. H e renewed his gaze on her dignified
and natural gestures, her countenance which spok e moie
than words could tell, those mysteries of the heart which
must ever remain inex plicable, and yet for ever decide our
fate. The accents, the look s, the least movements of a
truly sensitive actor, reveal the depths of the human
breast. The ideal of the fine arts always mingles with
these revelations; the harmony of verse and the charm of
attitude lending to passion the grace and maj esty it so often
wants in real life -- it is here seen through the medium
of imagination, without losing aught of its truth.
I n the second act, J uliet has an interview with R omeo
from a balcony in her garden. O f all Corinne' s ornaments,
none but the flowers were left; and even they were scarce
visible, as the theatre was faintly illumined in imitation
of moonlight, and the countenance of the fond I talian
veiled in tender gloom. H er voice sounded still more
sweetly than it had done amid the splendours of the fete.
H er hand, raised towards the stars, seemed invok ing them,
as alone worthy of her confidence; and when she repeated,
" O h,R omeo,R omeo! " certainasO swaldfeltthatitwas
of him she thought, he was j ealous that any other name
than his own should be breathed by tones so delicious.
S he sat in front of the balcony; the actor who played
R omeo was somewhat in the shade: all the glances of
Corinne fell on her beloved, as she spok e those entrancing
lines: --
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 122 corinne; or itaiy.
" I n truth, fair Montague 1 am too fond,
A nd therefore thou mayst think my ' haviour light;
B ut trust me, gentleman, I ' ll prove more true
Than those who have more cunning to be strange. "
? #*? ?
"
>
k
Therefore -- pardon me! "
A t those words " Pardon me ! " for loving, for letting thee
now it, -- so tender an appeal filled the eyes of Corinne,
such respect for her lover, such pride in her " fair Mon-
tague," that O swald raised his head, and believed himself
the monarch of the world, since he reigned over a heart
enclosing all the treasures of love and life. Corinne, per-
ceiving the effect this took on him, became doubly ani-
mated by that heartfelt enthusiasm which, of itself, can
work such miracles; and when, at the approach of day,
J uliet fancies that she hears the lark , the signal for R o-
meo' s departure* , the accents of Corinne acq uired a super-
human power; they told of love, indeed, but a religious
mystery was now mingled with ' it; -- recollections of
heaven -- a presage of returning thither -- the celestial
grief of a soul ex iled on earth, and soon to be reclaimed by
its diviner home. A h, how happy was Corinne, while
playing so noble a part before the lover of her choice!
H ow few lives can bear a comparison with one such night!
H ad O swald himself been the R omeo, her pleasure could
not have been so complete. S he would have longed to
break through the greatest poet' s verse, and speak after her
own heart; or perhaps the diffidence of love would have
enchained her genius; truth carried to such a height would
have destroyed illusion: but how sweet was the conscious-
ness of his presence, while she was influenced by the ex -
alted impulses which poetry alone can awak en, giving us
all the ex citement, without the anguish, of reality; while
the affections she portrayed were neither wholly personal
nor entirely abstract, but seemed saying to her O swald,
" B ehold, how capable I am of loving! " I t was impos-
* Corinne' s translation deviated widely from the original. Minor points I
have presumed to reconcile, but this I must leave as I find, though the two
parting scenes in R omeo and J uliet are so dissimilar, that it is difficult to guess
now they could become confused in such a mind as Madame de S tael' s; nor
why she should have omitted all mention of Tybalt' s death, and R omeo' s
banishment -- Th.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? corinne; O R I TA L Y . 123
sible for her to be perfectly at ease in her own situation.
Passion and modesty alternately impelled and restrained
her, now piq uing her pride, now enforcing its submission:
but thus to display her perfections without arrogance, to
unite sensibility with the calm it so often disturbs; to live a
moment in the sweetest dreams of the heart,-- such was the
pure delight of Corinne while acting J uliet. To this was
united all her pleasure in the applause she won; and her
look s seemed laying her success at the feet of him whose
acceptance was worth all fame, and who preferred her glory
to his own. Y es, for that hour, Corinne, thou wert enviable!
tasting, at the price of thy repose, the ecstasies for which,
till then, thou hadst vainly sighed, and must henceforth
for ever deplore.
J uliet secretly becomes the wife of R omeo. H er pa-
rents command her to espouse another, and she obtains
from a friar a sleeping-draught, which gives her the ap-
pearance of death. Corinne' s trembling step and altered
voice; her look s, now wild, now dej ected, betrayed the
struggles of love and fear; the terrible image of being
borne alive to the tomb of her ancestors, and the brave
fidelity which bade her young soul triumph over so natu-
ral a dread. O nce she raised her eyes to heaven, with an
ardent petition for that aid with which no human being
can dispense; at another time O swald fancied that she
spread her arms towards him: he longed to fly to her aid;
he rose in a k ind of delirium, then sunk on his seat, re-
called to himself by the surprise of those around him; but
his agitation was too strong to be concealed. I n the fifth
act, R omeo, believing J uliet dead, bears her from the tomb.
Corinne was clad in white, her black lock s dishevelled,
her head gracefully resting on his bosom; but with an air
of death so sadly true, that O swald' s heart was torn by
contending sensations. H e could not bear to see her in
another' s embrace; he shuddered at the sight of her in-
animate beauty, and felt, lik e R omeo, that cruel union of
despair and love, voluptuousness and death, which renders
this scene the most heart-rending on the stage. A t last,
when J uliet wak es in the grave, beside which her lover
has j ust sacrificed himself, her first words beneath those
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 124- corinne; or italy.
funeral vaults partak e not of the fear they might occasion,
hut she cries,
" W hereismylord? whereismyR omeo? "
N evil replied but by a groan; and was hurried by Mr.
E dgarmond out of the theatre. A t the conclusion of the
piece, Corinne was overpowered by fatigue and ex ej j
ement.
O swald was the first to seek her room, where, still, in the
shroud of J uliet, she lay half-swooning in the arms of' her
women. I n the ex cess of his dismay, he could no longer
distinguish fiction from reality; but, throwing himself at
her feet, ex claimed,
" E yes, look your last! A rms, tak e your last embrace! "
Corinne, whose senses still wandered, shriek ed, " Great
God! whatsayyou? W ouldyouleaveme? " -- " N o,
no, I swear! " he cried. A t that instant a crowd of
admiring friends brok e in upon them; she anx iously de-
sired to hear what he had meant to say, but they were not
left alone together for an instant, and could not speak to
each other again that evening.
N ever had any drama produced such an effect in I taly.
The R omans ex tolled the piece, the translation, and the
actress; asserting that this was the tragedy which repre-
sented them to the life, and gave an added value to their
language, by eloq uence at once inspired and natural.
Corinne received all these eulogiums with gracious sweet-
ness; but her soul hung on these brief words, " I swear! "
believing that they contained the secret of her destiny.
E N DO F TH E F I R S TV O L UME .
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? corinne; O R I TA L Y . 125
V O L UME TH E S E CO N D.
BOOKVIII.
TH E S TA TUE S A N DPI CTUR E S .
CH A PTE R I .
A fter such an evening, O swald could not close his eyes
all night. H e had never been so near sacrificing every
thing to Corinne. H e wished not even to learn her
secret, until he had solemnly consecrated his life to her
service; all indecision seemed banished, as he mentally
composed the letter which he intended to write the nex t
morning: but this resolved and happy confidence was not
of long duration. H is thoughts again strayed towards the
past, reminding him that he had loved before; and though
far less than he adored Corinne, nay, an obj ect not to be
compared with her, he had then been hurried into rashness
thatbrok ehisfather' sheart. " H owk nowI ," hecried,
" that he does not once more fear his son may forget his
duty to his native land? O h thou, the best friend I can
ever call mine own ! " he continued, to the miniature of his
parent, " I can no longer hear thy voice, yet teach me by
that silent look , still -- still so powerful over me, how
I should act, that thou mayest gaze from heaven with some
satisfaction on thy son. Y et, yet remember the thirst for
happiness which consumes humanity; be but as indulgent
in thy celestial home, as late thou wert on earth. I should
become more worthy of thee, were my heart content; did
I live with that angelic creature, had I the honour of pro-
tecting-- saving such a woman! S ave her? " he added,
suddenly, " and from what? from the life she loves; a
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 126 corinne; or italy.
life of triumph, flattery, and freedom! " This reflection of
his own scared him as if it had been spok
of his sire. I n situations lik e O swald'
en by the spirit
s, who has not felt
that secret superstition which mak es us regard our thoughts
and sufferings as warnings from on high? A h, what
struggles beset the soul susceptible alik e of passion and of
conscience! H e paced his chamber in cruel agitation;
sometimes pausing to gaze on the soft and lovely moon-
light of I taly. N ature' s fair smile may render us resigned
to every thing but suspense. Day rose on his -- and
when d' E rfeuil and E dgarmond entered his room, so much
had one night changed him, that both were alarmed for his
health. The Count first brok e silence. " I must confess,"
he said, " that I was charmed last evening. W hat a pity
that such capabilities should be wasted on a woman of
fortune! were Corinne but poor, free as she is, she might
tak e to the stage, and be the glory of I taly. " O swald was
grieved by this speech; yet k new not how to show it;
for such was d' E rfeuil' s peculiarity, that one could not
legitimately obj ect to aught he said, however great the pain
and anger he awak ened. I t is only for feeling hearts to
practise reciprocal indulgence. S elf-love, so sensitive in
its own cause, has rarely any sympathy to spare for others.
Mr. E dgarmond spok e of Corinne in the most pleasing
manner; and N evil replied in E nglish, to defend this theme
from the uncongenial comments of d' E rfeuil, who ex -
claimed, " S o, it seems, I am one too many here: well,
I ' ll to the lady; she must be longing for my opinion of her
J uliet. I have a few hints to give her, for future improve-
ment: they relate merely to detail, but details do much
towards a whole; and she is really so astonishing a woman,
that I shall neglect nothing that can bring her to per-
fection. I ndeed," he added, confidentially addressing
N evil, " I must encourage her to play freq uently;
the surest way of catching some foreigner of rank . Y ou
and I , dear O swald, are too accustomed to fine girls for
any one of them to lead us into such an absurdity; but a
it is
German prince, now, or a S panish grandee -- who k nows?
eh? " A t these words O swald started up, beside himself;
and there is no telling what might have occurred had the
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? CO R I N N E ; O R I TA L Y . 127
Count guessed his impulse; but he was so satisfied with
his own concluding remark , that he tripped from the
room, without a suspicion of having offended L ord N evil:
had he dreamt of such a thing, he would assuredly have
remained where he was, though he lik ed O swald as well as
he could lik e any one; but his undaunted valour contri-
buted still more than his conceit to veil his defects from
himself. W ith so much delicacy in all affairs of honour,
he could not believe himself deficient in that of feeling;
and having good right to consider himself brave and gen-
tlemanly, he never calculated on any deeper q ualities than
his own. N ot one cause of O swald' s agitation had escaped
the eye of E dgarmond. A s soon as they were alone, he
said, " My dear N eville, good bye! I ' m off for N aples.
pending on observation of manners, can only ex ist in a
country accustomed to a great and varied population.
I taly is animated but by violent passions or effeminate
enj oyments. S uch passions give birth to crimes that con-
found all shades of character. B ut that ideal comedy,
which suits all times, all countries, was invented here.
H arleq uin, pantaloon, and clown are to be found in every
piece of that description. E very where they have rather
mask s than faces; that is, they wear the physiognomy of
their class, and not of individuals. Doubtless our modern
authors found these parts all made to their hands, lik e the
pawns of a chess-board; but these fantastic creations, which,
from one end of E urope to the other, still amuse not only
children, but men whom fancy renders childish, surely
give the I talians some claim on the art of comedy. O bser-
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 112CO B I N N E ; O R I TA L Y .
vation of the human heart is an inex haustible source of lite-
rature; but nations rather romantic than reflective yield
themselves more readily to the delirium of j oy than to phi-
losophic satire. S omething of sadness lurk s beneath the
pleasantry founded on a k nowledge of mank ind; the most
truly inoffensive gaiety is that which is purely imaginative.
N ot that I talians do not shrewdly study those with whom
they are concerned. They detect the most private thoughts,
as subtly as others; but they are not wont to mak e a lite-
rary use of the acuteness which mark s their conduct.
Perhaps they are reluctant to generalise and to publish their
discoveries. Prudence may forbid their wasting on mere
plays what may serve to guide their behaviour, or con-
verting into witty fictions that which they find so useful in
real life. N evertheless Machiavel, who has made k nown all
the secrets of criminal policy, may serve to show of what
terrible sagacity the I talian mind is capable. Goldoni,
who lived in V enice, where society is at its best, introduced
more observation into his work s than is commonly
found. Y et his numerous comedies want variety both of
character and situation. They seem modelled not on
life, but on the generality of theatrical pieces. I rony is not
the true character of I talian wit. I t is A riosto, and not
Moliere, who can amuse us here. Gozzi, the rival of
Goldoni, had much more irregular originality. H e gave
himself up freely to his genius; mingling buffoonery with
magic, imitating nothing in nature, but dealing with
those fairy chimeras that bear the mind beyond the
boundaries of this world. H e had a prodigious success in
his day, and perhaps is the best specimen of I talian comic
fancy; but, to ascertain what our tragedy and comedy
might become, they must be allowed a theatre, and a
company. A host of small towns dissipate the few re-
sources that might be collected. That division of states,
usually so favourable to public welfare, is destructive of it
here. W e want a centre of light and power, to pierce the
mists of surrounding prej udice. The authority of a go-
vernment would be a blessing, if it contended with the
ignorance of men, isolated among themselves, in separate
provinces, and, by awak ening emulation, gave life to a
people now content with a dream. "
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? CO H I N N E ; O R I TA L Y . 113
These and other discussions were spiritedly put forth
by Corinne; she eq ually understood the art of that light
and rapid style, which insists on nothing; in her wish to
please, adopting each by turns, though freq uently abandon-
ing herself to the talent which had rendered her so cele-
brated as an improvisatrice. O ften did she call on Castel
F orte to support her opinions by his own; but she spok e
so well, that all her auditors listened with delight, and could
not have endured an interruption. Mr. E dgarmond, above
all, could never have wearied of seeing and hearing her:
he hardly dared ex plain to himself the admiration she
ex cited; and whispered some words of praise, trusting that
she would understand, without obliging him to repeat them.
H e felt, however, so anx ious to hear her sentiments on
tragedy, that, in spite of his timidity, he risk ed the q uestion.
" Madame," he said, " it appears to me that tragedies are
what your literature wants most. I think that yours come
less near an eq uality with our own, than children do to
men: for childish sensibility, if light, is genuine; while
your serious dramas are so stilted and unnatural, that they
stifle all emotion. A m I not right, my lord? " he added,
turning his eyes towards N evil, with an appeal for assist-
ance, and astonished at himself for having dared to say so
much before so large a party. -- " I think j ust as you do,"
returned O swald: " Metastasio, whom they vaunt as the
bard of love, gives that passion the same colouring in all
countries and situations. H is songs, indeed, abound with
grace, harmony, and lyric beauty, especially when detached
from the dramas to which they belong; but it is impossible
for us, whose S hak speare is indisputably the poet who has
most profoundly fathomed the depths of human passions,
to bear with the fond pairs who fill nearly all the scenes of
Metastasio, and, whether called A chilles or Thyrsis, B rutus
or Corilas, all sing in the same strain, the martyrdom
they endure, and depict, as a species of insipid idiotcy, the
most stormy impulse that can wreck the heart of man. I t
is with real respect for A lfieri that I venture a few com-
ments on his work s, their aim is so noble! The sentiments
of the author so well accord with the life of the man, that
his tragedies ought always to be praised as so many great
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 114 corinne; or italy.
actions, even though they may be criticised in a literary
sense. I t strik es me, that some of them have a monotony
in their vigour, as Metastasio' s have in their sweetness.
A lfieri gives us such a profusion of energy and worth, or
such an ex aggeration of violence and guilt, that it is im-
possible to recognise one human being among his heroes.
Men are never either so vile or so generous as he describes
them. The obj ect is to contrast vice with virtue; but
these contrasts lack the gradations of truth. I f tyrants
were obliged to put up with half he mak es their victims
say to their faces, one would really feel tempted to pity
them. I n the tragedy of ' O ctavia,' this outrage of proba-
bility is most apparent. S eneca lectures N ero, as if the
one were the bravest, and the other the most patient of
men. The master of the world allows himself to be in-
sulted, and put in a rage, scene after scene, as if it were
not in his own power to end all this by a single word. I t
is certain, that, in these continual dialogues, S eneca utters
max ims which one might pride to hear in a harangue or
read in a dissertation; but is this the way to give an idea
of tyranny ? -- instead of investing it with terror, to set it up
as a block against which to tilt with wordy weapons! H ad
S hak speare represented N ero surrounded by trembling
slaves, who scarce dared answer the most indifferent q ues-
tion, himself vainly endeavouring to appear at ease, and
S eneca at his side, composing the apology for A grippina' s
murder, would not our horror have been a thousand times
more great? and, for one reflection made by the author,
would not millions have arisen, in the spectator' s mind,
from the silent rhetoric of so true a picture? " O swald
might have spok en much longer ere Corinne would have
interrupted him, so fascinated was she by the sound of his
voice, and the turn of his ex pressions. S carce could she
remove her gaze from his countenance, even when he ceased
to speak ; then, as her friends eagerly ask ed what she
thought of I talian tragedy, she answered by addressing her-
self to N evil. -- " My lord, I so entirely agree with you,
that it is not as a disputant I reply: but to mak e some
ex ceptions to your, perhaps, too general rules. I t is true
that Metastasis is rather a lyric than a dramatic poet; and
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? corinne; or italy. 115
that he depicts love rather as one of the fine arts that em-
bellish life, than as the secret source of our deepest j oys and
sorrows. A lthough our poetry has been chiefly devoted to
love, I will hazard the assertion that we have more truth
and power in our portraitures of every other passion. F or
amatory themes, a k ind of conventional style has been
formed amongst us; and poets are inspired by what they
have read, not by their own feelings. L ove as it is in
I taly, bears not the slightest resemblance to love such as
our authors describe.
" I k now but one romance, the' F iammetta'
in which the passion is attired in its truly national colours.
I talian love is a deep and rapid impression, more freq
betrayed by the silent ardour of our deeds, than by inge-
nious and highly wrought language. O ur literature, in
general, bears but a faint stamp of our manners. W e are
too humbly modest to found tragedies on our own history,
or fill them with our own emotions. (17) A lfieri, by a
singular chance, was transplanted from antiq uity into mo-
dern times. H e was born for action; yet permitted but
to write: his style resented this restraint. H e wished by
a literary road to reach a political goal ,? a noble one, but
such as spoils all work s of fancy. H e was impatient of
living among learned writers and enlightened readers, who,
nevertheless, cared for nothing serious; but amused them-
selves with madrigals and nouvellettes. A lfieri sought to
give his tragedies a more austere character. H e retrenched
every thing that could interfere with the interest of his
dialogue; as if determined to mak e his countrymen do
penance for their natural vivacity. Y et he was much ad-
mired ; because he was truly great, and because the in-
habitants of R ome applaud all praise bestowed on the
ancient R omans, as if it belonged to themselves. They
are amateurs of virtue, as of the pictures their galleries
possess; but A lfieri has not created any thing that may
be called the I talian drama; that is, a school of tra-
gedy, in which a merit peculiar to I taly may be found.
H e has not even characterised the manners of the times
and countries he selected. H is ' Pazzi,' ' V irginia,' and
' Philip I I . ' are replete with powerful and elevated thought;
i2
of B
occaccio,
uently
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 116 CO R I N N E ; O B I TA L Y .
but you every where find the impress of A lfieri, not that
of the scene nor of the period assumed. W idely as he
differs from all F rench authors in most respects, he re-
sembles them in the habit of painting every subj ect he
touches with the hues of his own mind. " -- A t this allusion
d' E rfenil observed, " I t would be impossible for us to
brook on our stage either the insignificance of the Grecians,
or the monstrosities of S hak speare. The F rench have too
much taste. O ur drama stands alone for elegance and deli.
cacy: to introduce any thing foreign, were to plunge us
into barbarism. " -- " Y ou would as soon think of sur-
rounding F rance with the great wall of China! " said
Corinne, smiling: " yet the rare beauties of your tragic
authors would be better developed, if you would sometimes
permit others besides F renchmen to appear in their scenes.
B ut we, poor I talians, would lose much, by confining our-
selves to rules that must confer on us less honour than
constraint. The national character ought to form the
national theatre. W e love the fine arts, music, scenery,
even pantomime; all, in fact, that strik es our senses. H ow,
then, can a drama, of which eloq uence is the best charm,
content us? I n vain did A lfieri strive to reduce us to this;
he himself felt that his system was too rigorous. (18)
H is ' S aul,' Maffei' s ' Merope,' Monti' s ' A ristodemus,'
above all, the poetry of Dante (though he never wrote a
tragedy), seem to give the best notion of what the dra-
matic art might become here. I n ' Merope' the action is
simple, but the language glorious; why should such style
be interdicted in our plays? V erse becomes so magnificent
in I talian, that we ought to be the last people to renounce
its beauty. A lfieri, who, when he pleased, could ex cel in
every way, has in his ' S aul' made superb use of lyric poetry;
and, indeed, music itself might there be very happily intro-
duced; not to interrupt the dialogue, but to calm the fury
of the k ing, by the harp of David. W e possess such
delicious music, as may well inebriate all mental power;
we ought, therefore, instead of separating, to unite these
attributes; not by mak ing our heroes sing, which destroys
their dignity, but by choruses, lik e those of the ancients,
connected by natural link s with the main situation, as often
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? corinne; or italy. 117
happens in real life. F ar from rendering the I talian drama
less imaginative, I think we ought in every way to increase
the illusive pleasure of the audience. O ur lively taste for
music, ballet, and spectacle, is a proof of powerful fancy,
and a necessity to interest ourselves incessantly, even in
thus sporting with serious images, instead of rendering
them more severe than they need be, as did A lfieri. W e
think it our duty to applaud whatever is grave and ma-
j estic, but soon return to our natural tastes; and are satis-
fied with any tragedy, so it be embellished by that va-
riety which the E nglish and S paniards so highly appre-
ciate. Monti' s ' A ristodemus' partak es the terrible pathos
of Dante; and has surely a j ust title to our pride. Dante,
so versatile a master-spirit, possessed a tragic genius, which
would have produced a grand effect, if he could have
adapted it to the stage: he k new how to set before the
eye whatever passed in the soul; he made us not only feel
but look upon despair. H ad he written plays, they must
have affected young and old, the many as well as the few.
Dramatic literature must be in some way popular; a whole
nation constitute its j udges. " -- " S ince the time of Dante,"
said O swald, " I taly has played a great political part --
ere it can boast a national tragic school, great events must
call forth, in real life, the emotions which become the stage.
O f all literary chefs d' wuvre, a tragedy most thoroughly be-
longs to a whole people: the author' s genius is matured by
the public spirit of his audience; by the government and
manners of his country; by all, in fact, which recurs each
day to the mind, forming the moral being, even as the air we
breathe invigorates our physical life. The S paniards, whom
you resemble in climate and in creed, have, nevertheless,
far more dramatic talent. Their pieces are drawn from
their history, their chivalry, and religious faith: they are
original and animated. Their success in this way may
restore them to their former fame as a nation; but how
can we found in I
never possessed?
turned Corinne, "
taly a style of tragedy which she has
" -- " I have better hopes, my lord," re-
from the soaring spirits that are among
us, though unfavoured as yet by circumstances; but what
we most need is histrionic ability. A ffected language in-
i3
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 118 corinne; or italy.
duces false declamation; yet there is no tongue in which
a great actor could evince more potency than in our own;
for melodious sounds lend an added charm to j ust accentu-
ation, without rohhing it of its force. " -- " I f you would
convince us of this/' interrupted Castel F orte, " do so, by
giving us the inex pressible pleasure of seeing you in tra-
gedy: you surely consider your foreign friends worthy of
witnessing the talent which you monopolise in I taly; and
in which (as your own soul is peculiarly ex pressed in it)
you can have no superior on earth. "
Corinne secretly desired to perform before O swald, and
thus appear to the best advantage; but she could not con-
sent without his approval: her look s req uested it. H e
understood them; and, ambitious that she should charm
Mr. E dgarmond in a manner which her yesterday' s timidity
had prevented, he j oined his solicitations to those of her other
guests. S he hesitated no longer. -- " W ell, then," she said
to Castel F orte, " we will, if you please, accomplish a long-
formed scheme of mine, that of playing my translation of
' R omeoandJ uliet. ' " -- " W hat! " ex claimedE dgarmond,
" Do you understand E nglish, and love S hak speare ? " --
" A safriend," shereplied. -- " A ndyouwillplayJ uliet
in I talian? and I shall hear you? and you, too, dear N evil!
H ow happy you will be! " Then, instantly repenting his
indiscretion, he blushed. The blush of delicacy and k ind-
ness is at all ages interesting. -- " H ow happy we shall
be," he added, with embarrassment, " if we may be present
at such a mental banq uet! "
CH A PTE R I I I .
A ll was arranged in a few days; parts distributed, the
night fix ed on, and the palace of a relative of Prince Castel
F orte devoted to the representation. O swald felt at once
disq uiet and delight; he enj oyed Corinne' s success, by
anticipation; but even thus grew j ealous, beforehand, of no
one man in particular, but of the public, who woidd witness
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? CO R I N N E J O R I TA L Y . 119
an ex cellence of which he felt as if he alone had a right to
be aware. H e would have had Corinne reserve her charms
for him, and appear to others as timid as an E nglishwoman.
H owever distinguished a man may be, he rarely feels un-
q ualified pleasure in the superiority of a woman. I f he
does not love her, his self-esteem tak es offence ; if he does,
his heart is oppressed by it. B eside Corinne, O swald was
rather intox icated than happy: the admiration she ex -
cited increased his passion, without giving stability to his
intents.
S he was a phenomenon every day new; but the
very wonder she inspired seemed to lessen his hopes of
domestic tranq uillity. S he was, notwithstanding, so gentle,
so easy to live with, that she might have been beloved for
her lowliest attributes, independent of all others; yet it
was by these others that she had become remark able.
L ord N evil, with all his advantages, thought himself be-
neath her, and doubted the duration of their attachment.
I n vain did she mak e herself his slave: the conq ueror was
too much in awe of his captive q ueen to enj oy his realm
in peace. S ome hours before the performance, N evil led
her to the house of the Princess, where the theatre had
been fitted up. The sun shone beautifully; and at one of
the staircase windows, which commanded a view of R
and the Campagna, he paused a moment, saying, "
hold, how heaven itself lights you to victory ! " --
B
ome
e-
" I
to you, who point out its favour, that I owe such protec-
tion, then," she replied. " Tell me," he added, " do the
pure emotions k indled by the sweetness of nature suffice
to please you? R emember this is a very different air from
t is
obtain
that you will respire in the tumultuous hall which soon will
re-echo your name? " -- " O swald," she said, "
applause, will it not be because you hear it that it may
touch my heart? I f I display any talent, is it not my
love for you that inspires me? Poetry, religion, all en-
thusiastic feelings, are in harmony with nature; and
while gazing on the azure sk y, while yielding to the re-
verie it creates, I understand better than ever the senti-
ments of J uliet, I become more worthy of R omeo. "
" Y es, thou art worthy of him, celestial creature! "
if I
--
cried
N evi1: " this j ealous wish to be alone with thee in the uni-
i4
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 120 corinne;
verse, is, I
the world!
or italy.
own, a weak ness. Go! receive the homage of
but be thy love, which is more divine even
than thy genius, directed to none but me! " They parted,
anu O swald took his place, awaiting her appearance on the
stage. I n V erona the tomb of R omeo and J uliet is still
shown. S hak speare has written this play with truly
southern fancy; at once impassioned and vivacious;
triumphant in delight; and rushing from voluptuous
felicity to despair and death. I ts sudden love, we feel,
from the first, will never be effaced; for the force of
nature, beneath a burning clime, and not habitual fick le-
ness, gives it birth. The sun is not capricious, though
the vegetation be rapid; and S hak speare, better than any
other foreign poet, k new how to seize the national character
of I taly,-- that fertility of mind which invents a thousand
varied ex pressions for the same emotion; that O riental
eloq uence which borrows images from all nature, to
clothe the sensations of young hearts. I n O ssian one
chord constantly replies to the thrill of sensibility; but in
S hak speare nothing is cold nor same. A sunbeam, divided
and reflected in a thousand varied ways, produces endlessly
multiplied tints, all telling of the light and heat from
whence they are derived. Thus " R omeo and J uliet,"
lated into I talian, seems but resuming its own mother-
tongue.
The first meeting of the lovers is at a ball given by the
Capulets, mortal enemies of the Montagues. Corinns was
charmingly attired, her tresses mix ed with gems and
flowers; and at first sight scarce appeared herself: her
voice, however, was soon recognised, as was her face,
though now almost deified by poetic fire. Unanimous
applause rung through the house as she appeared. H er
trans-
first look discovered O swald, and rested on him, spark ling
with hope and love. The gazers' hearts beat with rapture
and with fear, as if beholding happiness too great to last
on earth. B ut was it for Corinne to realise such a pre-
sentiment? W hen R omeo drew near, to whisper his sense
of her grace and beauty, in lines so glowing in E nglish, so
magnificent in I talian, the spectators, transported at being
thus interpreted, fully entered into the passion whose
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? cohinne; or italy. 121
hasty dawn appeared more than ex cusable. O swald be-
came all uneasiness; he felt as if every man was ready to
proclaim her an angel among women, to challenge him on
what he felt for her, to dispute his rights, and tear her
from his arms. A dazzling cloud passed before his eyes;
he feared that he should faint, and concealed himself
behind a pillar. Corinne' s eyes anx iously sought him,
and with so deep a tone did she pronounce
" Too early seen unk nown, and k nown too late! "
that he trembled as if she applied these words to their
personal situation. H e renewed his gaze on her dignified
and natural gestures, her countenance which spok e moie
than words could tell, those mysteries of the heart which
must ever remain inex plicable, and yet for ever decide our
fate. The accents, the look s, the least movements of a
truly sensitive actor, reveal the depths of the human
breast. The ideal of the fine arts always mingles with
these revelations; the harmony of verse and the charm of
attitude lending to passion the grace and maj esty it so often
wants in real life -- it is here seen through the medium
of imagination, without losing aught of its truth.
I n the second act, J uliet has an interview with R omeo
from a balcony in her garden. O f all Corinne' s ornaments,
none but the flowers were left; and even they were scarce
visible, as the theatre was faintly illumined in imitation
of moonlight, and the countenance of the fond I talian
veiled in tender gloom. H er voice sounded still more
sweetly than it had done amid the splendours of the fete.
H er hand, raised towards the stars, seemed invok ing them,
as alone worthy of her confidence; and when she repeated,
" O h,R omeo,R omeo! " certainasO swaldfeltthatitwas
of him she thought, he was j ealous that any other name
than his own should be breathed by tones so delicious.
S he sat in front of the balcony; the actor who played
R omeo was somewhat in the shade: all the glances of
Corinne fell on her beloved, as she spok e those entrancing
lines: --
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 122 corinne; or itaiy.
" I n truth, fair Montague 1 am too fond,
A nd therefore thou mayst think my ' haviour light;
B ut trust me, gentleman, I ' ll prove more true
Than those who have more cunning to be strange. "
? #*? ?
"
>
k
Therefore -- pardon me! "
A t those words " Pardon me ! " for loving, for letting thee
now it, -- so tender an appeal filled the eyes of Corinne,
such respect for her lover, such pride in her " fair Mon-
tague," that O swald raised his head, and believed himself
the monarch of the world, since he reigned over a heart
enclosing all the treasures of love and life. Corinne, per-
ceiving the effect this took on him, became doubly ani-
mated by that heartfelt enthusiasm which, of itself, can
work such miracles; and when, at the approach of day,
J uliet fancies that she hears the lark , the signal for R o-
meo' s departure* , the accents of Corinne acq uired a super-
human power; they told of love, indeed, but a religious
mystery was now mingled with ' it; -- recollections of
heaven -- a presage of returning thither -- the celestial
grief of a soul ex iled on earth, and soon to be reclaimed by
its diviner home. A h, how happy was Corinne, while
playing so noble a part before the lover of her choice!
H ow few lives can bear a comparison with one such night!
H ad O swald himself been the R omeo, her pleasure could
not have been so complete. S he would have longed to
break through the greatest poet' s verse, and speak after her
own heart; or perhaps the diffidence of love would have
enchained her genius; truth carried to such a height would
have destroyed illusion: but how sweet was the conscious-
ness of his presence, while she was influenced by the ex -
alted impulses which poetry alone can awak en, giving us
all the ex citement, without the anguish, of reality; while
the affections she portrayed were neither wholly personal
nor entirely abstract, but seemed saying to her O swald,
" B ehold, how capable I am of loving! " I t was impos-
* Corinne' s translation deviated widely from the original. Minor points I
have presumed to reconcile, but this I must leave as I find, though the two
parting scenes in R omeo and J uliet are so dissimilar, that it is difficult to guess
now they could become confused in such a mind as Madame de S tael' s; nor
why she should have omitted all mention of Tybalt' s death, and R omeo' s
banishment -- Th.
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? corinne; O R I TA L Y . 123
sible for her to be perfectly at ease in her own situation.
Passion and modesty alternately impelled and restrained
her, now piq uing her pride, now enforcing its submission:
but thus to display her perfections without arrogance, to
unite sensibility with the calm it so often disturbs; to live a
moment in the sweetest dreams of the heart,-- such was the
pure delight of Corinne while acting J uliet. To this was
united all her pleasure in the applause she won; and her
look s seemed laying her success at the feet of him whose
acceptance was worth all fame, and who preferred her glory
to his own. Y es, for that hour, Corinne, thou wert enviable!
tasting, at the price of thy repose, the ecstasies for which,
till then, thou hadst vainly sighed, and must henceforth
for ever deplore.
J uliet secretly becomes the wife of R omeo. H er pa-
rents command her to espouse another, and she obtains
from a friar a sleeping-draught, which gives her the ap-
pearance of death. Corinne' s trembling step and altered
voice; her look s, now wild, now dej ected, betrayed the
struggles of love and fear; the terrible image of being
borne alive to the tomb of her ancestors, and the brave
fidelity which bade her young soul triumph over so natu-
ral a dread. O nce she raised her eyes to heaven, with an
ardent petition for that aid with which no human being
can dispense; at another time O swald fancied that she
spread her arms towards him: he longed to fly to her aid;
he rose in a k ind of delirium, then sunk on his seat, re-
called to himself by the surprise of those around him; but
his agitation was too strong to be concealed. I n the fifth
act, R omeo, believing J uliet dead, bears her from the tomb.
Corinne was clad in white, her black lock s dishevelled,
her head gracefully resting on his bosom; but with an air
of death so sadly true, that O swald' s heart was torn by
contending sensations. H e could not bear to see her in
another' s embrace; he shuddered at the sight of her in-
animate beauty, and felt, lik e R omeo, that cruel union of
despair and love, voluptuousness and death, which renders
this scene the most heart-rending on the stage. A t last,
when J uliet wak es in the grave, beside which her lover
has j ust sacrificed himself, her first words beneath those
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 124- corinne; or italy.
funeral vaults partak e not of the fear they might occasion,
hut she cries,
" W hereismylord? whereismyR omeo? "
N evil replied but by a groan; and was hurried by Mr.
E dgarmond out of the theatre. A t the conclusion of the
piece, Corinne was overpowered by fatigue and ex ej j
ement.
O swald was the first to seek her room, where, still, in the
shroud of J uliet, she lay half-swooning in the arms of' her
women. I n the ex cess of his dismay, he could no longer
distinguish fiction from reality; but, throwing himself at
her feet, ex claimed,
" E yes, look your last! A rms, tak e your last embrace! "
Corinne, whose senses still wandered, shriek ed, " Great
God! whatsayyou? W ouldyouleaveme? " -- " N o,
no, I swear! " he cried. A t that instant a crowd of
admiring friends brok e in upon them; she anx iously de-
sired to hear what he had meant to say, but they were not
left alone together for an instant, and could not speak to
each other again that evening.
N ever had any drama produced such an effect in I taly.
The R omans ex tolled the piece, the translation, and the
actress; asserting that this was the tragedy which repre-
sented them to the life, and gave an added value to their
language, by eloq uence at once inspired and natural.
Corinne received all these eulogiums with gracious sweet-
ness; but her soul hung on these brief words, " I swear! "
believing that they contained the secret of her destiny.
E N DO F TH E F I R S TV O L UME .
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? corinne; O R I TA L Y . 125
V O L UME TH E S E CO N D.
BOOKVIII.
TH E S TA TUE S A N DPI CTUR E S .
CH A PTE R I .
A fter such an evening, O swald could not close his eyes
all night. H e had never been so near sacrificing every
thing to Corinne. H e wished not even to learn her
secret, until he had solemnly consecrated his life to her
service; all indecision seemed banished, as he mentally
composed the letter which he intended to write the nex t
morning: but this resolved and happy confidence was not
of long duration. H is thoughts again strayed towards the
past, reminding him that he had loved before; and though
far less than he adored Corinne, nay, an obj ect not to be
compared with her, he had then been hurried into rashness
thatbrok ehisfather' sheart. " H owk nowI ," hecried,
" that he does not once more fear his son may forget his
duty to his native land? O h thou, the best friend I can
ever call mine own ! " he continued, to the miniature of his
parent, " I can no longer hear thy voice, yet teach me by
that silent look , still -- still so powerful over me, how
I should act, that thou mayest gaze from heaven with some
satisfaction on thy son. Y et, yet remember the thirst for
happiness which consumes humanity; be but as indulgent
in thy celestial home, as late thou wert on earth. I should
become more worthy of thee, were my heart content; did
I live with that angelic creature, had I the honour of pro-
tecting-- saving such a woman! S ave her? " he added,
suddenly, " and from what? from the life she loves; a
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? 126 corinne; or italy.
life of triumph, flattery, and freedom! " This reflection of
his own scared him as if it had been spok
of his sire. I n situations lik e O swald'
en by the spirit
s, who has not felt
that secret superstition which mak es us regard our thoughts
and sufferings as warnings from on high? A h, what
struggles beset the soul susceptible alik e of passion and of
conscience! H e paced his chamber in cruel agitation;
sometimes pausing to gaze on the soft and lovely moon-
light of I taly. N ature' s fair smile may render us resigned
to every thing but suspense. Day rose on his -- and
when d' E rfeuil and E dgarmond entered his room, so much
had one night changed him, that both were alarmed for his
health. The Count first brok e silence. " I must confess,"
he said, " that I was charmed last evening. W hat a pity
that such capabilities should be wasted on a woman of
fortune! were Corinne but poor, free as she is, she might
tak e to the stage, and be the glory of I taly. " O swald was
grieved by this speech; yet k new not how to show it;
for such was d' E rfeuil' s peculiarity, that one could not
legitimately obj ect to aught he said, however great the pain
and anger he awak ened. I t is only for feeling hearts to
practise reciprocal indulgence. S elf-love, so sensitive in
its own cause, has rarely any sympathy to spare for others.
Mr. E dgarmond spok e of Corinne in the most pleasing
manner; and N evil replied in E nglish, to defend this theme
from the uncongenial comments of d' E rfeuil, who ex -
claimed, " S o, it seems, I am one too many here: well,
I ' ll to the lady; she must be longing for my opinion of her
J uliet. I have a few hints to give her, for future improve-
ment: they relate merely to detail, but details do much
towards a whole; and she is really so astonishing a woman,
that I shall neglect nothing that can bring her to per-
fection. I ndeed," he added, confidentially addressing
N evil, " I must encourage her to play freq uently;
the surest way of catching some foreigner of rank . Y ou
and I , dear O swald, are too accustomed to fine girls for
any one of them to lead us into such an absurdity; but a
it is
German prince, now, or a S panish grandee -- who k nows?
eh? " A t these words O swald started up, beside himself;
and there is no telling what might have occurred had the
? ? Generated for (University of Chicago) on 2014-12-22 00:49 GMT / http://hdl. handle. net/2027/hvd. 32044021204953 Public Domain, Google-digitized / http://www. hathitrust. org/access_use#pd-google
? CO R I N N E ; O R I TA L Y . 127
Count guessed his impulse; but he was so satisfied with
his own concluding remark , that he tripped from the
room, without a suspicion of having offended L ord N evil:
had he dreamt of such a thing, he would assuredly have
remained where he was, though he lik ed O swald as well as
he could lik e any one; but his undaunted valour contri-
buted still more than his conceit to veil his defects from
himself. W ith so much delicacy in all affairs of honour,
he could not believe himself deficient in that of feeling;
and having good right to consider himself brave and gen-
tlemanly, he never calculated on any deeper q ualities than
his own. N ot one cause of O swald' s agitation had escaped
the eye of E dgarmond. A s soon as they were alone, he
said, " My dear N eville, good bye! I ' m off for N aples.
