still wandering, cried: "Good God! what do you say? are you
going to leave me?"--"No;" interrupted Oswald, "I swear--" At that
instant the crowd of Corinne's friends and admirers forced the door in
order to see her. Her eyes were fixed upon Oswald, listening with
anxiety for what he was about to answer; but there was no opportunity
for further conversation between them during the whole evening, for they
were not left alone a single instant.

Never had the performance of a tragedy produced such an effect in Italy.
The Romans extolled with transport the talents of Corinne, both as the
representative of Juliet, and the translator of the piece. They said
that this was truly the species of tragedy which suited the Italians,
which painted their manners, moved the soul by captivating the
imagination, and gave effect to their beautiful language, in a style
alternately eloquent and lyrical, inspired and natural. Corinne received
all these praises with the sweetest air imaginable; but her soul
remained suspended on the words "_I swear_,"--which Oswald had
pronounced when he was prevented by the entrance of the company from
concluding his sentence: this word might in truth contain the secret of
her destiny.

Book viii.

THE STATUES AND THE PICTURES.

[Illustration]

Chapter i.

After the day which had passed, Oswald could not close his eyes during
the night. He had never been so near sacrificing every thing to Corinne.
He did not even desire to know her secret; or rather, before he was
acquainted with it, he wished to contract a solemn engagement, to
consecrate his life to her. For some hours uncertainty seemed banished
from his mind; and he took pleasure in composing, in his thoughts, the
letter which he should write to her on the morrow, and which would
decide his fate. But this confidence in happiness, this reliance upon
resolution, was of no long duration. His thoughts soon reverted to the
past, he remembered that he had loved, much less, it is true, than he
loved Corinne; and the object of his first choice could not be compared
to her; but nevertheless it was this sentiment which had hurried him
away to thoughtless actions, to actions which had torn the heart of his
father.--"Ah! who knows," cried he, "whether he would not fear equally
to-day, lest his son should forget his native country and the duties
which he owes it?"

"Oh thou!" said he, addressing the portrait of his father, "thou, the
best frien