Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/65

---

"Or possibly a sun-stroke may have lighted
Upon thee!" And the eager Vincen cited
An ancient crone among the hills of Baux,
Taven by name, "who on the forehead,—so,—
A glass of water sets: the ray malign
The dazed brain for the crystal will resign."

"Nay, nay!" impetuously the maiden cried,
"Floods of May sunshine never terrified
The girls of Crau. Why should I hold you waiting?
Vincen, in vain my heart is palpitating!
My secret cannot bide a home so small:
I love you, Vincen, love you!—That is all!"

The river-banks, the close-pruned willows hoary,
Green grass and ambient air, hearing this story,
Were full of glee. But the poor basket-weaver,
"Princess, that thou who art so fair and clever,
Shouldst have a tongue given to wicked lying!
Why, it confounds me! It is stupefying!

"What! thou in love with me? Mirèio,
My poor life is yet happy. Do not go
And make a jest thereof! I might believe
Just for one moment, and thereafter grieve
My soul to death. Ah, no! my pretty maid.
Laugh no more at me in this wise!" he said.