[158]
me to forget I was a stranger—The whole knot fell down—We had been seven years acquainted.
The youth struck the note upon the tabourin—his pipe followed, and off we bounded———"the duce take that slit!"
The sister of the youth who had stolen her voice from heaven, sung alternately with her brother—'twas a Gascoigne roundelay.
Viva la joia!
Fidon la tristessa!
Fidon la tristessa!
The nymphs join'd in unison, and their swains an octave below them———
I would have given a crown to have it sew'd up—Nannette would not have given a sous—Viva la joia! was in her lips—Viva la joia! was in her eyes. A tran-sient
