Gamba.  Hie to me, fly to me, steel-blue mate! 
    Under my breast-knot flutters thy fellow;
      Here can I rest not, and thou so late. 
        Home, to me, home! 
       ‘Love, love, I come!’
       —­Dear one, I wait!
Quanno nacesti tu, nacqui pur io: 
La lundananza tua, ’l desiderio mio! 
You know the song, madonna?

Regent.  Ay, fool.  Sit
    Here at my feet, sing on.

Gamba (sings).

Bird of the South, my Rondinello
Under thy wing my heart hath lain
Till the rain falling on last leaves yellow
Drumm’d to thee, calling southward again. 
Home, to me, home! 
‘Love, love, I come!’
Ah, love, the pain!
Addio, addio! ed un’ altra volt’ addio! 
La lundananza tua, ’l desiderio mio! 
(Pause).
A foolish rustic thing the shepherd wives
In our Abruzzi croon by winter fires,
Of their husbands in the plains.

Regent.  Gamba!

Gamba.  Madonna?

Regent.  I’d make thee my confessor.  Mindest thou,
    By Villalago, where from Sanno’s lake
    The stream, our Tasso, hurls it down the glen? 
    One noon, with Lucio—­ever in those days
    With Lucio—­on a rock within the spray,
    I wove a ferny garland, while the boy
    Roamed, but returned in triumph, having trapped
    A bee in a bell-flower—­held it to my ear,
    Laughing, dissembling that he feared to loose
    The hairy thief.  So laughed we—­and were still,
    As deep in Vallescura wound a horn,
    And up the pathway ’neath the dappling bough
    Came riding—­flecked with sunshine, man and horse,—­
    My lord, my lover; and that song, that song
    Upon his lips....

Voice of Watchman.  Sail ho! a sail! a sail!

  [Murmur of populace below.  It grows and swells to
  a roar as enter hurriedly courtiers, guards, and
  others:  Cesario; Lucetta with mirror.]

Lucetta.  My lady!  O my lady!—­

Cesario.  See, they near! 
    Galley on galley—­look, there, by the point!

Regent.  O, could my heart keep tally with the surge
    That here comes crowding!

Lucetta.  Joy, my lady!  Joy!

All.  Joy!  Joy, my lady!

[They press flowers on her.  A pause, while they watch.  On the canal the galleys come into sight.  They near:  and as the oars rise and fall, the rowers’ chorus is borne from the distance.  It is the Rondinello song

Chorus in Distance.  La lundananza tua, ’l desiderio mio!

Regent.  Thanks, my good, good friends! 
    And deem it not discourteous if alone
I’d tune my heart to bliss. 
                            My glass, Lucetta!

[Takes mirror.]

Some thoughts there are—­some thoughts——­