Her aunt was seated in the window busily crocheting, while she, with her white fingers running across the keys, raised her sweet contralto voice in that old-world Florentine song that for centuries has been sung by the populace in the streets of the city by the Arno: In questa notte in sogno l'ho veduto Era vestito tutto di braccato, Le piume sul berretto di velluto Ed una spada

I don't do notting of dat kind.