The Improvisatrice

And while Corilla, as if absorbed in spiritual contemplation, continued
to stand immovable there, began the low notes of a harp, which,
gradually becoming fuller and stronger, at length resounded in
powerfully rushing and exultant tones. 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.

Natalie, feeling something like a slight puncture in her heart,
involuntarily carried her hand to her bosom. It was a strange, a
wonderful feeling, which stirred within her, partly partaking of joy at
seeing and hearing her friend Carlo, as people were murmuring praises of
his beauty, and of his great skill upon the harp, and partly a feeling
of painful emotion. She knew not why, but as her glance met his, it
quickly turned toward Corilla, and quite sadly she said to herself: "She
is much handsomer than I!"

Carlo now opened his lips, and to a beautifully simple melody he sweetly
sang an introductory song, as it were to prepare the audience for the
coming solemnity. Having finished this, two lovely amourettes came
forward, with silver vases in their hands, and hastened down the steps
to the audience, politely requesting them to furnish themes for the
great improvisatrice Corilla.

Then, returning to the altar, they threw into the urn the small scraps
of paper on which the guests has proposed themes. The harp again
resounded, and with a solemn earnestness, her face and glance still
directed upward, Corilla drew one of the little strips of paper from the
urn. Accident, or perhaps her own dexterity, had favored her.