While these thoughts passed in his mind, the time flew quickly by; and the meal which his principal attendants took care should be placed before him, was served and taken away almost untouched. Shortly afterwards, Monsieur de Sancy visited him; and St. Real, whose mind was not one to yield where it could resist, endeavoured to enter vigorously into everything that could distract his attention from himself, spoke again and again of all the probable consequences of the events that were occurring, and endeavoured to gain a clear and distinct knowledge of the characters, purposes, and power of the various nobles forming the royalist party. For the time the attempt succeeded, and his mind found some relief from the memory of personal sorrows; but the moment that Monsieur de Sancy left him, his thoughts returned to himself as bitterly as ever. As evening fell, he fancied that music might soothe his mind or distract his attention; and sending for his page, Leonard de Monte, he asked, "Did you not once tell me, Leonard, that you could sing, and play upon the lute? I am somewhat sad just now, my boy, and would fain hear a little music to while away unpleasant ideas." The boy smiled with a peculiar expression, and replied. "Music!--I will sing, if you like--that is to say, if I can find a lute; but music which will soothe care, and refresh the mind fatigued of business, calm the turbulent thoughts of ambition, or soften the feverish pangs of sickness, is no antidote against sorrow, and is, they say 'the food of love.'" "Well, well," replied St. Real, "let me hear your instrument and your voice; I must have amusement of some kind, for this night wears heavily." "I have not my own lute here," replied the boy, "but the dwarf will soon find one, I warrant;" and, going out, he returned in a few moments followed by Bartholo, carrying one of those guitars with eleven strings which were the principal musical instruments then in vogue. The boy struck his hand across the chords, and then pushed it from him to the dwarf, exclaiming angrily, "Take it from me, and tune it. Why give me a thing all discord, like that?" "May it please you," replied the dwarf, with a look of humble deference, which did not escape St. Real's eyes, and which he had never seen assumed towards himself, "I did not know that it had been out of tune, or I should not have failed----"