Again when he was singing . . . when he was singing that celebrated air from "Matrimonio segreto," Pria che spunti . . . then he, il gran Garcia, after the words, "I cavalli di galoppo"—at the words, "Senza posa cacciera,"—listen, how stupendous, come è stupendo! At that point he made . . .' The old man began a sort of extraordinary flourish, and at the tenth note broke down, cleared his throat, and with a wave of his arm turned away, muttering, 'Why do you torment me?' Gemma jumped up at once and clapping loudly and shouting, bravo! . . . bravo! . . . she ran to the poor old super-annuated Iago and with both hands patted him affectionately on the shoulders. Only Emil laughed ruthlessly. Cet âge est sans pitié—that age knows no mercy—Lafontaine has said already.
Sanin tried to soothe the aged singer and began talking to him in Italian—(he had picked up a smattering during his last tour there)—began talking of 'paese del Dante, dove il si suona.' This phrase, together with 'Lasciate ogni speranza,' made up the whole stock of poetic Italian of the young tourist; but Pantaleone was not won over by his blandishments. Tucking his chin deeper than ever into his cravat and sullenly rolling his eyes, he was once more like a bird, an angry
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