“The Guisseppi I used to know could not sing like that. You are not Guisseppi. You are a spirit. Some demon has taught you how to sing so beautifully. You have come back with this new devil’s voice of yours to lure my soul to hell.”
“Ah, Rosina, how can you delude yourself with such foolish fancies. Do you not see me here solid in flesh and blood?”
“I see you, but I know you are only a shadow from the grave.”
“If your eyes deceive you, your ears can not. You have heard me sing.”
“That was some devil’s necromancy.”
Guisseppi fell on his knees before her and stretched out his arms in supplication.
“I love you, Rosina. That is all I can say. The hangman’s noose was not able to strangle my love for you. Your love is more to me now than it ever was before. The world has turned cold to me. You are my only hope, my refuge. I need you. I want you with all my soul.”
The girl shook her head sorrowfully. Her eyes rested upon him with sadness that was touched with renunciation.
“It can never be,” she said firmly. “How you are here, I do not know. You are dead; of that I am sure. My love for you was buried in the grave that was dug for you. You are not the boy I once loved. You are something strange and different. I am afraid of you. It is only with horror that I could fancy the kisses of a dead man on my lips. The thought of a ghost’s endearments fills me with loathing. Go back to the dead. I can love and reverence those who are gone, but there is no love anywhere in all the world for the dead returned from the grave.”
She turned away and stood with her head bowed in her hands.