They listened with such rapt attention that not the slightest movement was made in the room, and one might have heard the murmur of the leaves in the garden as they were gently stirred by the breeze of May.
Mary had concluded her song and lifted her eyes to heaven with an expression of adoration.

All who gazed upon her felt as though they were contemplating an angel before the throne of God.

Even Simon Turchi was subdued by admiration, and he even momentarily lost sight of the hatred and jealousy which lacerated his heart.
Mary thus sang: Kyrie! Lo, our God comes, Mankind to save from ill and bless: What grateful joy should break our gloom And fill our hearts with happiness! Kyrie eleison!--God is born! A virgin mother gives him birth; And sin's dark bonds asunder torn, Sweet heaven again inclines to earth.
Kyrie!--hear!--the sacred font Pours forth its saving waters free-- And Thou impressest on our front The sign that drives our foes away.
Christe!--anointed victim!--Thou, Who in thy death bestowest life-- The healing remedy for woe-- Ah! earth with many a woe is rife.
Christe eleison!--brother dear-- Our liberator from all ill-- Strong in Thy virtue, free from fear, And be our help to virtue still.
Christe eleison! God and man-- Our only consolation here-- Oh! do not leave us 'neath the ban Of sorrow perilous and drear.
Oh! Kyrie, Father--Kyrie Son-- Kyrie Spirit--we adore The Triune God--Thee, only One! Grant we may praise Thee evermore! Silence reigned in the room some moments after the last sound had died away, and then arose a murmur of admiration, and the young girl was overwhelmed with felicitations.
Whilst being thus complimented, Mary noticed Geronimo at a little distance from her.

Desirous, perhaps, of escaping the praises lavished upon her, or, it may be, yielding to a real desire, she approached the young man, drew him towards the piano, and insisted upon his singing an Italian aria.
Geronimo at first refused, but his uncle requested him to yield to the entreaties of the young girl.

Taking up a lute, he hastily tuned it, and sang the first word of the aria _Italia!_ in such a tone of enthusiasm that it struck a responsive chord in every Italian heart.