che m'ha vista una volta, e sente in petto battere il cor per me, l'indegna. Se a traversa la mia strada fatal si trovi. Oh! non isperi di fuggirsene via, e non sarò la sola disgraziata.

ZANETTO.

(canta di lontana)

Cuore, come un fiore
Si dischiude, in te l'amore
La canzon non è gioconda
L'odi tu, piccina bionda!

Cuore, v'è il dolore
Tra il profumo e la splendore
Par che il pianto si nasconda
In quel fior piccina bionda?

SILVIA.

Dolce è la melodia:
la voce tocca il cuor.
Ma queste fole d'amore
io non l'intendo più.

(Sale lentamente su la terazza, volgendosi distrattamente verso la parte da veniva la voce Zanetto col liuto a tracolla, e trascinando per l'erta il mantello, entra con aria allegra senza veder Silvia)

 

SCENE II—SILVIA and ZANETTO.

ZANETTO.

Sweet nights of summer,
By the moon lighted,
Smiles, on my journey,
On me benighted.
The stars too above
Shed on me their light
From golden eyes bright.

I'm ready—Loves my Florence
The sound of the lute?
And songs of true love?
As a minstrel I'm dressed,
And not in such plight
Could I appear
In hotel candle light
Here to sleep I will lay me
This warm summer night.

(He stretches himself out on a bench and wraps his cloak around him).

(Silvia comes quickly down from the terrace).

SILVIA.

O poor little fellow! If I only had such sweet tranquility! Shall I call him, and offer him hospitality? but then—Just sleep down there!

(looking at him sleeping)

The silence, the perfumed air of the evening, this sleeping boy. Why should they disturb me? Yet a new palpitation is moving my heart! Ah me!

He's like my dream, exactly!

Up! Wake up!

(taking him sweetly by the hand)

(Zanetto awakes and looks at Silvia with wonder and admiration).

ZANETTO.

The lovely white vision
I saw in my dreaming.

SILVIA.

O darling!
'Twas but a pale ray
From a star, bright seeming.

ZANETTO.

No, no! You were the lovely angel of my dream.
Your voice I heard near me;
Ah, you do not fear me!

SILVIA.

I am, if it please you, a hostess; and welcoming a wayfarer.

ZANETTO.

Thank you, I've just had my supper—
And my sleep is all gone.

SILVIA (to herself).

(Silvia, be good now!
'Tis love that is so painful
And this boy can't be so baneful!)

(to Zanetto)

But, tell me; can't I know who you are?

ZANETTO.

I am Zanetto, a wandering musician;
It's my delight to change house and air every day!
Twenty useless callings
I have, to make my living.
I know how to push the bending oar
My bark speed giving;
I can bring down the falcon
Flying in the heavens;
Can tame the kicking mule,
And good verse arrange in sevens—
So I am not a fool!

SILVIA.

But does it often happen
That your dinner
you are lacking?

ZANETTO.

Sometimes, yes!
But I find where'er going
True courtesy is showing,
And I know I am welcome—
By my lute I am able
To find a place at a table,
Company entertaining,
And for that day
A supper I am gaining.

SILVIA.

Are you going to Florence?

ZANETTO.

Don't know.
If I find a more flowery path
I follow it. It is a strange fancy that draws
the bird through the trackless azure sky.
And I must say, too, that in my journeys I have not found fortune.

SILVIA.

But have you not dreamed of resting some day in your fantastic and doubtful wandering? And have you not seen a little white house, set 'mid green, waving palms, and where a young girl once gave you a quick "Good morning!"

ZANETTO.

Yes, sometimes—But I know what I am—I think of fathers, and tutors; and it does not please me to disturb the family peace.

SILVIA.

Have you not set your mind firmly on the girl
who gave you that flower
you wear on your breast?

ZANETTO.

A kiss! and I go on my travels.
Liberty to me is dear.
I want no other burdens
than my lute and the feather in my cap!
And love
When you would move
Is too heavy to carry!

SILVIA.

A bird in the woods wants no cage
But who will say that some day he will not build a nest?

ZANETTO.

No! No! Do you know, all love makes me afraid?
It is delightful to go your own way,
as you please, and be as
free as the air!

SILVIA.

But you are not happy—
And fate did you follow
As led by its hand;
Or the flight of a swallow
From some far-away land?

ZANETTO.

Perhaps—

SILVIA.

Are you led by some hope?

ZANETTO.

'Twas only a dream.

SILVIA.

Tell it!

ZANETTO.

Perhaps I may stay here! Know, then, that I have no parents, father or mother. I may be the son of a Marquis, or of a villain—who knows? In the world's course so far I've lived a free and merry life; and have never desired any other. But after having enjoyed your dear voice, beautiful Madonna, I've been dreaming that I might have—a sister! Since you have aroused in me the desire for a sweet little cottage, far from all the noises of the world, set in the midst of flowers, now, yes! I begin to feel lonesome! I accept your wise counsel! Oh! If you were willing to be entertained by this nightingale wanderer, I would stay here with you. I would be always near you; and with my lute and song the long hours of your mornings I would shorten!

SILVIA (to herself).

(My darling!
How my heart is exulting!
What is it always makes me fear?
To have all I have willed!
To hear I'm aflame!
Tell me my love's name!
My dream has been fulfilled!)

ZANETTO.

Are you willing?

SILVIA (to herself).

(I willing? Ah! no! never!
Why does he ask me?)

ZANETTO.

Madonna! I ask too much, I know; but will you?

SILVIA.

You shall know who I am tomorrow.

ZANETTO.

Again I ask you, will you?

SILVIA.

I can not.

ZANETTO.

And why not?

SILVIA.

A widow am I, and poor, and cannot entertain wandering poets.

ZANETTO.

Don't you have a servant?

SILVIA.

No!

ZANETTO.

A footman?

SILVIA.

No.

ZANETTO.

I can dine on fruit!

SILVIA.

Don't speak of it.
I'm a widow, and live alone, weeping!

ZANETTO.

And may I not stand at your feet?

SILVIA.

'Tis impossible. Believe me!

ZANETTO.

Then good-bye forever my beautiful dream! I may have, perhaps tomorrow, better fortune with Silvia!

SILVIA (to herself).

What says he?

ZANETTO.

Then in vain were all my prayers. I would ask
thee about Silvia, the Florentine.
She, they say, is the queen of all beauty.
They say that her look is a caress
which conquers and overwhelms in love.
They say that she is fair and beautiful
as thou art, lady;
and then, that she is rich and liberal.
I'll go and seek her.

SILVIA (to herself).

Great Heaven!