"Si tu mi lasci, lasciar non ti voglio,
Se m' abbandoni, ti vo seguitare
Se passi il mare, il mar passare io voglio,
Se giri il mondo, il mondo vo' girare," &c.
The words were very simple, but the melody was passionate and beautiful; his voice, so low at first, rose louder, with all the yearning tenderness in it with which the song is laden; and the soft sounds echoed through the silent room, as they had echoed ten thousand times in moonlit nights of midsummer, over the land where Romeo and Stradella and Ariosto loved.
His voice sank softly into silence; and Lady Hilda did not move.
There was a mist that was almost like tears in her proud eyes; she gazed into the fire, with her cheek leaning on her hand; she did not speak to him; there was no sound but the falling of some burning wood upon the hearth.
"The simplest contadina in the land would understand that," he said as he rose; "and you, great lady though you are, cannot? Madame, there are things, after all, that you have missed."
