Every thing was arranged in a few days, the parts distributed, and the evening chosen for the performance in a palace belonging to a female relation of Prince Castel-Forte, and a friend of Corinne.  Oswald felt 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 about to resound with your name.”  “Oswald,” said Corinne, “if the applause which I am about to receive, have the power to affect me, will it not be because it is witnessed by you?  And should I display any talent, will it not owe its success to you, who have animated and inspired it?  Love, poetry, and religion, all that