Military life in Italy : sketches - Societa italiana di storia militare

THE SON OF THE REGIMENT.
IO/
And the sponges : Che squisito barbera !
Che spuma
! Che
color !
These two last verses were sung with
less vivacity than the
others ;
it seemed as if the solitude of the place, and the dying
day, and the sight of Venice, which began to be peopled with
lights, filled even the hearts of the most thoughtless ones with
a little melancholy.
O madre, sul tuo seno
Vorrei chinar la testa
E sciorre al pianto il freno,
E infonder nel tuo cor
Questa dolcezza mesta
Che mi sembra dolor.
And the chorus :
Vorrei chinar la testa
Di mia madre sul cor.
Then two voices of the other group :
Non mi romper la testa,
Fammi questo favor.
The others no longer laughed. The last verse was repeated
twice. The revellers improvised no more words, and all turned
toward Venice. We sang the fourth verse a fourth time ;
but
Carluccio was singing no longer ;
he understood the meaning
of it, poor boy, and it had touched his heart. The hour, the
place, and that slow and melancholy music had filled his soul
with a sudden sadness.
" What 's the matter, Carluccio ? What do you keep your face
hidden in your hands for?" I whispered in his ear.