elt a
mixture of uneasiness and pleasure, at the approach of this new scene of
triumph for the talents of Corinne. He enjoyed the by anticipation; but
he was also jealous in the same manner, not of any man in particular,
but of that whole audience in general who were to witness the talents of
her whom he loved. He wished to be the only witness of her mental
charms;--he wished that Corinne, timid and reserved, like an English
woman, should possess eloquence and genius for none but him. However
distinguished a man may be, perhaps he never enjoys, without alloy, the
superiority of a woman: if he feel an affection for her, his heart is
disturbed;--if not, his self-love is wounded. Oswald, in the presence of
Corinne, was more intoxicated than happy; and the admiration which she
inspired him with, increased his love without giving more stability to
his projects. He contemplated her as an admirable phenomenon, which
appeared to him anew every day; but even the transport and astonishment
which she made him feel, seemed to render the hope of a peaceful and
tranquil life more distant. Corinne, however, was of the tenderest and
most easy disposition in private life; her ordinary qualities would have
made her beloved independently of her brilliant ones; but yet again, she
united in herself too much talent, and was too dazzling in every
respect. Lord Nelville, with all his accomplishments, did not believe
himself equal to her, and this idea inspired him with fears as to the
duration of their mutual affection. Vainly did Corinne by force of love
become his slave; the master, often uneasy about his captive queen, did
not enjoy his empire undisturbed.

Some hours before the representation, Lord Nelville conducted Corinne to
the palace of Princess Castel-Forte, where the theatre was fitted up.
The sun shone most brilliantly, and from one of the windows of the
stair-case, Rome and the _Campagna_ were discovered. Oswald stopped
Corinne a moment and said, "Behold this beautiful day, it is for your
sake; it is to heighten the splendour of your fame." "Ah, if that were
so," answered she, "it is you who would bring me happiness; it is to you
that I should owe the protection of heaven." "Would the pure and gentle
sentiments which the beauty of nature inspires, be sufficient to make
you happy?" replied Oswald: "there is a great distance between the air
that we breathe, the reverie which the country inspires, and that noisy
theatre which is abou