But all the eunuchs grumbled
When my voice rang out with force;
They grumbled and they mumbled,
My singing was very coarse.

And daintily sounded and cheerly
Their tinkling falsetto notes,
The crystalline fiorituri
Shrilled gay from the bird-like throats.

They sang too in accents pathetic,
Of love — its raptures and fears;
Delights so truly aesthetic
Drowned all the ladies in tears.