by L. Mühlbach
CORILLA
Corilla was alone. Uneasy, full of stormy thoughts, she impetuouslywalked back and forth, occasionally uttering single passionateexclamations, then again thoughtfully staring at vacancy before her. Shewas a full-blooded, warm Italian woman, that will neither love nor hatewith the whole soul, and nourishes both feelings in her bosom with equalstrength and with equal warmth. But, in her, hatred exhaled as quicklyas love; it was to her only the champagne-foam of life, which she sippedfor the purpose of a slight intoxication--as in her intoxication onlydid she feel herself a poetess, and in a condition for improvisation.
"I must at any rate be in love," said she, "else I should lose my poeticfame. With cool blood and a tranquil mind there is no improvising andpoetizing. With me all must be stirring and flaming, every nerve of mybeing must glow and tremble, the blood must flash like fire through myveins, and the most glowing wishes and ardent longings, be it love orbe it hate, must be stirring within me in order to poetize successfully.And this cannot be comprehended by delicate and discreet people; thislow Roman populace even venture to call me a coquette, only because Iconstantly need a new glow, and because I constantly seek new emotionsand new inspirations for my muse."
Love, then, for the improvisatrice Corilla, was nothing more than astrong wine with which she refreshed and strengthened her fatiguedpoetic powers for renewed exertions; it was in a manner the tow whichshe threw upon the expiring fire of her fantasy, to make it flash up inclear and bright flames.
It was only in this way that she loved Carlo, and wept for him, exceptthat in this case her love had been of a longer duration, because itwas _he_ who gave up and left _her_! That was what made her hatred soglowing, that was what made her seek the life of the woman for whomCarlo had deserted her.
"This is a new situation," said she, "which I am called to live throughand to feel. But a poetess must have experienced all feelings, orshe could not describe them. For my part, I do not believe in therevelations of genius--I believe only in experiences. One can describeonly what one has felt and experienced. Whoever may attempt to describethe flavor of an orange, must first have tasted it!"
That this attempt to murder Natalie had failed, was to her a matter oflittle moment. She had experienced the emotion of it, and just thesame would it have been a matter of indifference to her had the daggerpierced Natalie's breast--she was sufficiently a child of the South toconsider a murder as only a venial sin, for which the priest could grantabsolution.
There was only one thing which exclusively occupied Corilla, followingand tormenting her day and night, and that was her poetic fame. Shedesired that her name should stand high in the world, glorified by allEurope, and for this purpose she desired above all things to be crownedas a poetess in the capitol of the holy city; for this fame she wouldwillingly have given many years of her life.
That was the aim of all her efforts, and how much would she not haveborne, ventured, and suffered for its attainment! How many intrigueswere planned, how much cunning and dissimulation, flattery, andhypocrisy, had been employed for that purpose, and all, all as yet invain!
Therefore it was that Corilla now wept, and with occasional outbreaks ofpassionate exclamations violently paced her room. Her cheeks glowed, hereyes flashed--she was very beautiful in this state of excitement.That she must have acknowledged to herself as her glance accidentallyencountered her own face in the glass.
With a smile of satisfaction she remained standing before the mirror,and almost angrily she said:
"Ah, why am I now alone, why does no one see me in my beautiful glow? Myface might now produce some effect, and gain me friends! Why, then, am Inow alone?"
But it seems that Corilla had only to express a wish in order to seeit suddenly fulfilled; for the door was at that moment opened, and aservant announced Count Alexis Orloff.
Corilla smiled with delight, and let that smile remain upon her lips,as she very well knew it was becoming to her, and that she had conqueredmany hearts with it; but secretly her heart throbbed with fear, andtimidly she asked herself, "What can that Russian count want of me?"
But with a cheerful face she advanced to receive him; she seemed not toremark that a dark cloud lay upon his brow, and that his features borean almost threatening expression.
"He is a barbarian," thought she, "and barbarians must be treateddifferently from other men. I must flatter this lion, in order to fetterhim!"
"It is a serious matter that brings me to you, signora," said Alexis,gloomily.
"A serious matter?" she cheerfully asked. "Ah, then I pity you, count.It is difficult to speak with me of serious matters!"
"You rather do them!" said Alexis, carelessly throwing himself upon adivan. "You would not play with such serious things as, for instance,a dagger, and therefore you hurl it from you, altogether indifferentwhether you thereby quite accidentally pierce the heart of another."
"I do not understand you, count," said Corilla, without embarrassment,but at the same time she looked at him with such a charming and enticingexpression, that Alexis involuntarily smiled.
"I will make myself intelligible to you," said he, in a milder tone."You must understand, that I know you, Corilla. That assassin whofollowed the Princess Tartaroff at the festival of Cardinal Bernis, wasemployed by you, Signora Maddalena Morelli Fernandez, called Corilla!"
"And what if it were true, Signor Alexis Orloff, called the handsomeNorthern Hercules?" asked she, roguishly imitating his graveseriousness. "If it were really true, what further?"
Alexis looked in her face with an expression of astonishment. "You arewonderfully bold!" said he.
"None but slaves are without courage!" responded she. "Freedom is themother of boldness!"
"You do not, then, deny the hiring of that bravo?"
"I only deny your right to inquire," said she.
"I have a right to it," he responded with vehemence. "This PrincessTartaroff is a subject of the Empress of Russia, my mistress, whowatches over and protects all her subjects with maternal tenderness."
"That good, tender empress!" exclaimed Corilla, with an ambiguoussmile. "But in order properly to watch and preserve all her children andsubjects, she should keep them in her own country. Take this PrincessTartaroff with you to Russia, and then she will be safe from our Italiandaggers. Take her with you; that will be the best way!"
"You, then, very heartily hate this poor little princess?" asked Alexis,laughing.
"Yes," said she, after a short reflection, "I hate her. And would youknow why, signor? Not for her beauty, not for her youth, but for hertalents! And she has great talents! Ah, there was a time when I hatedher, although I knew her not. But now, now it is different. I now notonly hate, but fear her! For she can rival me, not only in love, but infame! Ah, you should have seen her on that evening! She was like a swanto look at, and her song was like the dying strains of the swan. Andall shouted applause, and all the women wept; indeed, I myself wept,not from emotion, but with rage, with bitterness, for they hadforgotten me--forgotten, for this new poetess; they overwhelmed her withflatteries, leaving me alone and unnoticed! And yet you ask me if I hateher!"
Quite involuntarily had she suffered herself to be carried away byher own vehemence, her inward glowing rage. With secret pleasure CountOrloff read in her features that this was no comedy which she thusimprovised, but was truth and reality.
"If you so think and feel," said he, "then we may soon understandeach other, signora. A real hatred is of as much value as a real love;indeed, often of much greater. One can more safely confide in hatred,as it is more enduring. I will therefore confide in you, signora, if youwill swear to me to betray no word of what I shall tell you."
"I swear it!" was Corilla's response.
"Listen, then! This Princess Tartaroff is an imposter; no princely bloodflows in her veins, and if she gives herself out to be a princess, itis because she therewith connects plans of high-treason. More I need notsay to you, except that my illustrious empress has charged me to bringthis f
raudulent princess to her at St. Petersburg, that she may therereceive her punishment! This I have sworn to do, and must redeem mypromise to transport her from here, without exciting attention, andwithout subjecting her to any personal injury. Do you now comprehend whyI come?"
"I comprehend," said Corilla. "An empress would avenge herself, andtherefore a poor poetess must forego her own little private revenge!But how, if I should not believe a word of this long story; if Ishould consider it a fable invented by you to assure the safety of yourprincess?"
"That you may be compelled to believe it, listen further to me."
And Alexis Orloff spoke long and zealously to her, affording her aglance into his most secret intrigues, into his finely-matured plans,while Corilla followed him with intense expectation and warmly-glowingcheeks.
"I comprehend it all, all!" said she, when Alexis had finally ended;"it is a deep and at the same time an infernal plan--a plan which mustexcite the envy and respect of Satan himself!"
"And yourself?" laughingly asked Alexis.
"Oh, I," said she--"I belong, perhaps, to the family of devils, andtherefore take pleasure in aiding you! You need a negotiator who has awide conscience and an eloquent tongue! I can furnish you with sucha one. Ah, that will make a droll story. Said you not that the singerCarlo watched this golden treasure like a dragon? Well, it shall be hisbrother who shall contend with this dragon. His own brother--will notthat be pleasant, count?"
"And are you sure of him?" asked Count Orloff. "How if his brothershould win him from us?"
"Have no anxiety; this Carlo Ribas is so virtuous that he hates no oneso much as his brother Joseph, merely because he passed some years inthe galleys for forgery. He is now free, and has secretly come here.As he was aware that I knew his brother, he came to beg me for mycountenance and support. I will send him to you."
"And you will also not forget my request, that you will in all societiesspeak of the great love which the Empress Catharine cherishes for hernear relation, the Princess Tartaroff?"
"I will not forget it. In your hands, count, I lay my revenge--you willfree me from this rival?"
"That will I," said he, with an inhuman laugh. "And when the work iscompleted, and you have faithfully stood by me, then, signora, youmay be sure of the gratitude of the empress. Catharine is the exaltedprotectress of the muses, and in the fulness of her grace she will notforget the poetess Corilla. You may expect an imperial reward."
"And I shall gratefully receive it," said Corilla, with a smile. "Apoetess is always poor and in want of assistance. The muses lavish upontheir votaries all joys but those of wealth."
"Ah!" exclaimed Corilla, when the count had left her, "I shall in theend obtain all I desire. I shall not only be crowned with fame, butblessed with wealth, which is a blessing almost equal to that of fame!Money has already founded many a reputation, but not always has fameattracted money to itself! I shall be rich as well as famous!"
"That you already are!" exclaimed the Cardinal Francesco Albani, whounremarked had just entered the room.
"I am not," said she, with vehemence, "for they refuse me the prize offame! Have you been with the pope, your eminence, and what did he say?"
"I come directly from him."
"Well, and what says he?"
"What he always says to me--no!"
Corilla stamped her feet violently, and her eyes flashed lightnings.
"How beautiful you are now!" tenderly remarked the cardinal, throwing anarm around her.
She rudely thrust him back. "Touch me not," said she, "you do notdeserve my love. You are a weakling, as all men are. You can only coolike a pigeon, but when it comes to action, then sinks your arm, andyou are powerless. Ah, the woman whom you profess to love begs of you atrifling service, the performance of which is of the highest importanceto her, the greatest favor, and you will not fulfil her request whileyet swearing you love her! Go! you are a cold-hearted man, and whollyundeserving of Corilla's love!"
"But," despairingly exclaimed the cardinal, "you require of me a servicethat it is not in my power to perform. Ask something else, Corilla--aska human life, and you shall have it! But I cannot give what is not mine.You demand a laurel-crown, which only the pope has the power to bestow,and he has sworn that you shall not have it so long as he lives!"
"Will he, then, live eternally?" cried Corilla, beside herself withrage.
The cardinal gave her an astonished and interrogating glance. But hisfeatures suddenly assumed a wild and malicious expression, and violentlygrasping Corilla's hand, he murmured:
"You are right! 'Will he, then, live forever?' Bah! even popes aremortal men. And if we should choose for his successor a man betterdisposed toward you then--Corilla," said the cardinal, interruptinghimself, and in spite of her resistance pressing her to hisbosom--"Corilla, swear once more to me that you will be mine, and onlymine, as soon as I procure your coronation in the capitol! Swear it oncemore!"
She gave him such a sweet, enticing, and voluptuous smile that thecardinal trembled with desire and joy.
"When you in the capitol adorn Corilla with the laurel-crown, thenwill she willingly lay her myrtle crown at your feet," said she, with acharming expression of maiden modesty.
The cardinal again pressed her passionately to his bosom.
"You shall have the laurel-crown, and your myrtle crown is mine!"he excitedly exclaimed. "You will soon see whether Francesco is acold-hearted man! Farewell, Corilla!"
And with a hasty salute he left the room. The astonished Corilladismissed him with a smile.
"If it is to succeed at all, it can be only through him," said she."Poor Francesco, he will bring me a full laurel-crown! And what can Igive him in return? An exfoliated myrtle crown, that is all! No heartwith it!"
