Jesus, Joseph, and Marie, And the holy sacrament, All in blessed companie, Help me now with my lament. It shall ring from hill to shore— The two heroes are no more! Ye may walk the world all over, Ye may search through every state, But the good Cæsario's mate All your quest will not discover. He could well and wisely speak, Bend the strong, and win the weak. Like a dog the base Mastini Cowardly revenge did take; Stealthily crept within brake, Hounded on by the Mastini. There he waited for his foe, There he dealt the dastard blow. Pauses now with carbine ready, Sees approach Chiucchinu; When he has him full in view, Takes a certain aim and steady; And he sees him earthward stagger, As if struck through with a dagger. Cappato in wrath up-started, Fierce as lion from his lair; At Tangone's throat he darted, Who for life doth make his prayer. Dearly must he rue the day, That he mingled in the fray. Paolo stayed when these departed;— In the covert of the wood He will tarry, steadfast-hearted, He will bear a name of blood; He will sweep down on the plain, He will cover it with slain. Patience till the winter's snow Be dissolved from off the land; Then shall sudden vengeance flow From the mountains to the strand! Spreading, catching, far and near, Like the fiery flame's career. Stab the richest and the noblest, Stab a dozen—'tis too few; That were hardly worthy vengeance For the boots of Chiucchinu. Vengeance too must pity show For the hapless Cappato. So concludes my lamentation, I have now no more to say. Wo upon you in the day Of your coming desolation! Take good heed, that may avail; But if not, the mourners wail. VOCERO OF A MAIDEN UPON THE DEATH OF HER TWO BROTHERS WHO WERE SLAIN IN ONE DAY. (_Mixed dialect of either side of the mountains._) (_The sister sings._) Oh! the bearing proud of Piero, Oh! the boasting of Orazio— They had made the land a desert Betwixt here and San Brancazio, Satiated with our heart's blood Are Michele and Orazio. Death, O death, how black and dreadful— How remorseless is thy sway! From a home once full thou'st taken, Save the nest-egg, all away; Is it fit that I, an orphan, Here as head of house should stay? I alone, amongst all women, By this hearth my place maintain'd; Over five strong, gallant brothers, I the right to rule obtain'd: Past and gone that sweet dominion, Lost the prize that I had gain'd! I will put on the faldetta, Black my garment as their pall; For no more one ray of gladness On this lonely heart can fall: Which has lost five noble brothers, Father, mother—seven in all.