leads to the Capitol, that the car stopped, and at that moment all
the friends of Corinne rushed forward to offer her their hands. She
chose that of the prince Castel-Forte, the most esteemed of the Roman
nobility, for his intellect and for his disposition: every one approved
the choice of Corinne, and she ascended the steps of the Capitol whose
imposing majesty seemed to receive, with kind condescension, the light
footsteps of a woman. A new flourish of music was heard at the moment of
Corinne's arrival, the cannon resounded and the triumphant Sybil entered
the palace prepared for her reception.

At the lower end of the hall in which she was received were placed the
senator who was to crown her, and the conservators of the senate; on one
side all the cardinals and the most distinguished women of the country;
on the other the men of letters of the academy of Rome; and at the
opposite extremity the hall was occupied by a part of the immense crowd
who had followed Corinne. The chair destined for her was placed a step
below that of the senator. Corinne, before she seated herself in it,
made a genuflection on the first step, agreeably to the etiquette
required in this august assembly. She did it with so much nobleness and
modesty, so much gentleness and dignity, that Lord Nelville in that
moment felt his eyes moist with tears: he was astonished at his own
tenderness, but in the midst of all her pomp and triumph it seemed to
him that Corinne had implored, by her looks, the protection of a
friend--that protection which no woman, however superior, can dispense
with; and how sweet, said he within himself, would it be to become the
support of her to whom sensibility alone renders that support necessary.

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,