Why dost thou sigh and moan?
Ah, why? ah, why?
Mad, merry Jacqueline,
That danced from morn till e'en -
Good-bye! good-bye!
Yea, for all mirth hath flown;
The strings have all one tone -
Ah, why? ah, why?

(not heeding JACQUELINE - to himself) Haste, Saida! haste! thy lord's home-coming will thwart thee an' thou dost not use despatch!

It is the lute that sings,
Not I! not I!
Haply some prisoned heart
That once had felt love's smart
Doth wake and cry!
Nay, it is love's own wings
That beat the trembling strings -
Not I! not I!