As soon as Corinne was seated the Roman poets began to read the sonnets and odes which they had composed for the occasion.  They all exalted her to the skies, but the praises which they lavishly bestowed upon her did not draw any characteristic features of distinction between her and other women of superior talents.  They were only pleasing combinations of images, and allusions to mythology, which might, from the days of Sappho to those in which we live, have been addressed indiscriminately to any woman who had rendered herself illustrious by her literary talents.

Already Lord Nelville felt hurt at this manner of praising Corinne; he thought, in beholding her, that he could at that very instant draw a portrait of her, more true, more just, more characteristic—­a portrait in fact that could only belong to Corinne.

Chapter ii.

The Prince Castel-Forte then rose to speak, and his observations upon the merits of Corinne excited the attention of the whole assembly.  He was about fifty years of age, and there was in his speech and in his deportment much deliberate ease and dignity.  The assurances which Lord Nelville received from those about him, that he was only the friend of Corinne, excited, in his lordship’s mind, an interest for the portrait which he drew of her, unmixed with any other emotion.  Without such a security a confused sentiment of jealousy would have already disturbed the soul of Oswald.

The Prince Castel-Forte read some unpretentious pages of prose which were particularly calculated to display the genius of Corinne.  He first pointed out the peculiar merit of her work, and said that that merit partly consisted of her profound study of foreign literature:  she united, in the highest degree, imagination, florid description and all the brilliancy of the south, with that knowledge, that observation of the human heart, which falls to the share of those countries where external objects excite less interest.

He extolled the elegant graces and the lively disposition of Corinne—­a gaiety which partook of no improper levity, but proceeded solely from the vivacity of the mind and the freshness of the imagination.  He attempted to praise her sensibility, but it was easily perceived that personal regret mingled itself with this part of his speech.  He lamented the difficulty which a woman of her superior cast experienced of meeting with the object of which she has formed to herself an ideal portrait—­a portrait clad with every endowment the heart and mind can wish for.  He however took pleasure in painting the passionate sensibility which the poetry of Corinne inspired, and the art she possessed of seizing every striking relation between the beauties of nature and the most intimate impressions of the soul.  He exalted the originality of Corinne’s expressions, those expressions which were the offspring of her character and manner of feeling, without ever permitting any shade of affectation to disfigure a species of charm not only natural but involuntary.