Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/37

] And then old Ambroi paused. "Ah, yes!" said he, "You do not quite believe my tale, I see. Nathless these things all happened, understand: Did I not hold the tiller with this hand? Were I to live a thousand. years, I say, I should remember what befell that day."

"What, father, you were there and saw the fun?" The laborers cried in mischief. "Three to one, They flattened you like scythes beneath the hammer!" "Who, me? The English?" the old tar 'gan stammer, Upspringing; then, with smile of fine disdain, Took up the burden of his tale again:—

IX. So with blood-dabbled feet fought we on Four hours, until dark, Then, our eyes being cleared of the powder, We missed from our bark Fivescore men. But the king of the English lost ships of renown: Three good vessels with all hands on board to the bottom went down.

X. And now, our sides riddled with shot, Once more homeward hie we, Yards splintered, masts shivered, sails tattered; But brave Captain Bailly