The foregoing is not literal, nor do I know that it is strictly “traditional;” it is a mere short tale or anecdote which I met with, and put into irregular metre to suit the sound of a rushing stream. I take the liberty of adding to it another water-poem of my own, which has become, if not “popular,” at least a halfpenny broadside sold at divers street-stands by old women, the history whereof is as follows:—I had written several ballads in Italian in imitation of the simplest old-fashioned lyrics, and was anxious to know if I had really succeeded in coming down to the level of the people, for this is a very difficult thing to do in any language. When I showed them to Marietta Pery, she expressed it as her candid opinion that they were really very nice indeed, and that I ought for once in my life to come before the public as a poet. And as I, fired by literary ambition, at last consented to appear in this _rôle_, Marietta took a ballad, and going to E. Ducci, 32 Via Pilastri, who is the Catnach of Florence (I advise collectors of the really curious to buy his _soldo_ publications), made an arrangement whereby my song should appear as a broadside, the lady strictly conditioning that from among his blocks Signore Ducci should find a ship and a flying bird to grace the head and the end of the lyric. But as he had no bird, she took great credit to herself that for five francs she not only got a hundred copies, but also had specially engraved for the work and inserted an object which appears as flying to the right hand of the ship. The song was as follows: LA BELLA STREGA. _Nuova Canzonetta di_ CHARLES GODFREY LELAND. Era una bella strega Che si bagnava alla riva; Vennero i pirati Lei presero captiva. Il vento era in poppa Sull’ onde la nave ballò La donna lacrimante Al capitan parlò. “O Signor capitano! O Capitano del mar! Darò cento ducati, Se tu mi lasci andar.” “Non prenderò cento ducati, Tu costi molto più Io ti vendrò al Sultano,” Disse il Capitano, “Per mille zecchini d’oro Vi stimi troppo giù.” “Non vuoi i cento ducati Ebben tu non gli avrai, Ho un’ amante amato Non mi abbandona mai.” Essa sedè sul ponte Principiò a cantar, “Vieni il mio amante,” Da lontano il vento Si mette a mugghiar. Forte e più forte La tempesta ruggio, Gridava il capitano: “Io credo che il tuo amante E il vento che corre innante, Ovvero il diavolo.” Forte e più forte La procella urlò, “Sono rocce davanti, E il vento vien di dietro Benvenuto sei tu mio amante!” La bella donna cantò. [Picture: A sailing ship with flying bird] “Vattene al tuo amante All’ inferno a cantar!” Disse il Capitano E gettò la donna fuori, Della nave nel mar.