I felt an aching here. I did not speak
To any one that day.
Vic. Sweet Preciosa!
I lov’d thee even then, though I was silent!
Pre. I thought I ne’er should see thy face again.
Thy farewell had to me a sound of sorrow.
Vic. That was the first sound in the song of love!
Scarce more than silence is, and yet a sound.
Hands of invisible spirits touch the strings
Of that mysterious instrument, the soul,