The Daughter of an Empress

"And I shall gratefully receive it," said Corilla, with a smile. "A

poetess is always poor and in want of assistance. The muses lavish upon

their votaries all joys but those of wealth."

"Ah!" exclaimed Corilla, when the count had left her, "I shall in the

end obtain all I desire. I shall not only be crowned with fame, but

blessed with wealth, which is a blessing almost equal to that of fame!

Money has already founded many a reputation, but not always has fame

attracted money to itself! I shall be rich as well as famous!"

"That you already are!" exclaimed the Cardinal Francesco Albani, who

unremarked had just entered the room.

"I am not," said she, with vehemence, "for they refuse me the prize of

fame! 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 an

arm around her.

She rudely thrust him back. "Touch me not," said she, "you do not

deserve my love. You are a weakling, as all men are. You can only coo

like a pigeon, but when it comes to action, then sinks your arm, and

you are powerless. Ah, the woman whom you profess to love begs of you a

trifling service, the performance of which is of the highest importance

to her, the greatest favor, and you will not fulfil her request while

yet swearing you love her! Go! you are a cold-hearted man, and wholly

undeserving of Corilla's love!"

"But," despairingly exclaimed the cardinal, "you require of me a service

that it is not in my power to perform. Ask something else, Corilla--ask

a 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 with

rage.

The cardinal gave her an astonished and interrogating glance. But his

features suddenly assumed a wild and malicious expression, and violently

grasping Corilla's hand, he murmured: "You are right! 'Will he, then, live forever?' Bah! even popes are

mortal men. 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!"

She gave him such a sweet, enticing, and voluptuous smile that the

cardinal trembled with desire and joy.