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Updated: May 29, 2025
I was told that when Corilla sang, she had only to fix her squinting eyes on a man and the conquest was complete; but, praised be God! she did not fix them on me. At Florence I lodged at the "Hotel Carrajo," kept by Dr. Vannini, who delighted to confess himself an unworthy member of the Academy Della Crusca. I took a suite of rooms which looked out on the bank of the Arno.
Oh, Carlo had very well understood what that man said, as he also did that language of the fingers, this much-used language of the Romans and Neapolitans. The man had said: "She is here, that beautiful lady! She can no longer escape us!" "You will strike her?" had Corilla asked. The man had swung the dagger over his head and held up two fingers of his right hand.
He took me to see Corilla, the celebrated poetess. She received me with great politeness, and was kind enough to improvise on several subjects which I suggested. I was enchanted, not so much with her grace and beauty, as by her wit and perfect elocution. How sweet a language sounds when it is spoken well and the expressions are well chosen.
She gave him such a sweet, enticing, and voluptuous smile that the cardinal trembled with desire and joy. "When you in the capitol adorn Corilla with the laurel-crown, then will she willingly lay her myrtle crown at your feet," said she, with a charming expression of maiden modesty. The cardinal again pressed her passionately to his bosom.
"Shall a Corilla desecrate the spot hallowed by the feet of Tasso and Petrarch? No, I say, no; when art becomes the plaything of a courtesan, then may the sacred Muses veil their heads and mourn in silence, but they must not degrade themselves by throwing away the crown which the best and noblest would give their heart's blood to obtain.
From Corilla all eyes were now turned upon Carlo, who, in the light dress of a Greek youth, his harp upon his arm, was leaning against a pomegranate tree placed in the background of the stage, and with his pale, serious face, with his noble, manly features, formed a beautiful contrast to the inspired and love-beaming priestess Corilla.
And if we should choose for his successor a man better disposed toward you then Corilla," said the cardinal, interrupting himself, and in spite of her resistance pressing her to his bosom "Corilla, swear once more to me that you will be mine, and only mine, as soon as I procure your coronation in the capitol! Swear it once more!"
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