"_Beatissimi voi. Che offriste il petto alle nemiche lance Per amor di costei che al sol vi diede_",
to the joyous outburst of an exultant Allegro in,
"_Oh viva, oh viva: Beatissimi voi Mentre nel monde si favelli o scriva._"
When she had ended, Klesmer said after a moment,
"That is old Leo's music."
"Yes, he was my last master--at Vienna: so fierce and so good," said Mirah, with a melancholy smile. "He prophesied that my voice would not do for the stage. And he was right."
"_Con_tinue, if you please," said Klesmer, putting out his lips and shaking his long fingers, while he went on with a smothered articulation quite unintelligible to the audience.

 the joyous outburst of an exultant Allegro:
"Oh viva, oh viva:
Beatissimi voi
Mentre nel mondo si favelli o scriva."
When she had ended, Klesmer said after a moment-
"That is Joseph Leo's music."
"Yes, he was my last master, at Vienna: so fierce and so good," said Mirah, with a melancholy smile. "He prophesied that my voice would not do for the stage. And he was right."
"Continue, if you please," said Klesmer, putting out his lips and shaking his long fingers. 