Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/44

18 "Whereon, 'Oh, bah!' cried foolish little I (Just think!—I only chanced to stand thereby), 'I can run too!' Forthwith they all surround me: 'Run, then!' Alas! my foolish words confound me; For I had run with partridges alone, And only the old oaks for lookers-on.

"But now was no escape. 'My poor boy, hasten,' Says Lagalanto, 'and your latchets fasten.' Well, so I did. And the great man meanwhile Drew o'er his mighty muscles, with a smile, A pair of silken hose, whereto were sewn Ten tiny golden bells of sweetest tone.

"So 'twas we three. Each set between his teeth A bit of willow, thus to save his breath; Shook hands all round; then, one foot on the line, Trembling and eager we await the sign For starting. It is given. Off we fly; We scour the plain like mad,—'tis you! 'tis I!

"Wrapped in a cloud of dust, with smoking hair, We strain each nerve. Ah, what a race was there! They thought we should have won the goal abreast, Till I, presumptuous, sprang before the rest: And that was my undoing; for I dropped Pale, dying as it seemed. But never stopped