As on the crested chieftain’s. We are bow’d
E’en to the earth.
Pea’s Child. My father, tell me when
Shall the gay dance and song again resound
Amidst our chestnut-woods, as in those days
Of which thou’rt wont to tell the joyous tale?
1st Pea. When there are light and reckless hearts once more
In Sicily’s green vales. Alas, my boy!
Men meet not now to quaff the flowing bowl,
To hear the mirthful song, and cast aside