Sonetto

I was spinning with my spindle
When a loud noise made me start;
'T was the firing of a musket,
In my breast I felt the smart;
And it seemed a voice said: " Hurry!
They have struck your brother's heart. "

I ran to the upper chamber,
Very wide I threw the door;
He said: " They have killed me, sister! "
I fell senseless on the floor.
If one thought did not sustain me,
I 'd not live an hour more.

I will dress in coat and trousers;
I will buy myself a gun;
I will show thy shirt all bloody,
For no man remains, not one,
Who will leave his beard unshaven
Until he sees vengeance done.

Who is there to make vendetta?
Mother, dying on her bed?
Sister Maria? Brother Lario?
Oh, that Lario were not dead!
For if Lario were living,
Blood enough would soon be shed!

Now of all our many kindred,
None is left to fight for me;
Thy poor sister, maiden, orphaned,
Swears her lonely vow to thee:
Be thou sure, for thy vendetta
She is ready, even she!