ained, warmly, that she must have been born in Rome to speak
Italian in such purity as she did. No one was acquainted with her family
name. Her first work had appeared five years before, and only bore the
name of Corinne; nobody knew where she had lived, nor what she had been
before that time: she was, however, nearly twenty-six years of age. This
mystery and publicity both at the same time, this woman of whom
everybody spoke, but whose real name was known to nobody, appeared to
Lord Nelville one of the wonders of the singular country he had just
come to live in. He would have judged very severely of such a woman in
England, but he did not apply the usual etiquette of society to Italy,
and the coronation of Corinne inspired him beforehand with that interest
to which an adventure of Ariosto would give birth.

Very fine and brilliant music preceded the arrival of the triumphal
procession. Any event, whatever it may be, which is announced by music,
always produces emotion. A great number of Roman Lords, and some
foreigners, preceded the car of Corinne. "_That is the train of her
admirers!_" said a Roman. "_Yes_," replied the other, "_she receives the
incense of everybody; but she grants nobody a decided preference: she is
rich and independent; it is even believed, and certainly her appearance
bespeaks it, that she is a woman of illustrious birth who desires to
remain unknown_." "_Be it as it may_," replied a third, "_she is a
goddess wrapt in a cloud_." Oswald looked at the man who spoke thus, and
every thing about him indicated that he belonged to the most obscure
rank in society; but in the south people so naturally make use of
poetical expressions, that one would say they were inhaled with the air
and inspired by the sun.

At length way was made through the crowd for the four white horses that
drew the car of Corinne. Corinne was seated in this car which was
constructed upon an antique model, and young girls, dressed in white,
walked on each side of her. Wherever she passed an abundance of perfumes
was thrown into the air; the windows, decorated with flowers and scarlet
tapestry, were crowded with spectators; every body cried, "_Long live
Corinne!_" "_Long live Genius and Beauty!_" The emotion was general but
Lord Nelville did not yet share it, and though he had observed in his
own mind that in order to judge of such a ceremony we must lay aside
the reserve of the English and the pleasantry of the French, he did not
sh