"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.

"If it is to succeed at all, it can be only through him," said she.

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"Poor Francesco, he will bring me a full laurel-crown! And what can I

give him in return? An exfoliated myrtle crown, that is all! No heart

with it!"




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