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.
"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.
"You shall have the laurel-crown, and your myrtle crown is mine!"
he excitedly exclaimed. "You will soon see whether Francesco is a
cold-hearted man! Farewell, Corilla!"
And with a hasty salute he left the room. The astonished Corilla
dismissed him with a smile.
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