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---- _Courtiers_. God save you, madam! _[They go out, leaving the Regent alone._] _Regent (she loosens the clasp of her robe)._ Some thoughts --some thoughts-- Fall from me, envious robe! Rest there, my crown--thou more than leaden ache! Ah!-- God! What a mountain drops! I float--I am lifted Like thistledown on nothing. Back, my crown-- Weight me to earth! Nay, nay, thy rim shall bite No more upon this forehead ... Where's my glass? O mirror, mirror, hath it bit so deep? My love is coming, hark! O, say not grey, Sweet mirror! Tell, what time to cure it now? And he so near, so near! How shall I meet him? Why how but as the river leaps to sea, Steel to its magnet, child to mother's arms?