"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. This Corilla may bribe you
poor earthly fools with her smiles and amorous verses, but she will not
be able to deceive the Muses!"
"You refuse me, then, the crowning of the renowned improvisatrice
Corilla?" asked the cardinal, with painfully suppressed rage.
"I refuse it!"
"And why, then, did you send for me?" exclaimed the cardinal with
vehemence. "Was it merely to mock me?"
"It was for the purpose of warning you, my son!" mildly responded the
pope. "For even the greatest forbearance must at length come to an
end; and when I am compelled to forget that you are Alessandro Albani's
nephew, I shall then only have to remember that you are the criminal
Francesco Albani, whom all the world condemns, and whom I must judge!
Repent and reform, my son, while there is yet time; and, above all
things, renounce this love, which heaps new disgrace upon your family
and overwhelms your relatives with sorrow and anxiety!"
"Renounce Corilla!" cried the cardinal.
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