"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.
"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!"