It must be allowed that, whenever a good voice occurs in this part of the country, it is an exception to the general rule; but this happened not long since, in the case of a young and very handsome girl of Ossau, whose melodious voice and fine execution attracted the notice of an amateur, by whom she was introduced to the theatre at Berlin, and obtained great applause and success. She may be considered as a nightingale who had lost her way amongst a wood of screech-owls; for her talent was quite alone. She used to sing an old historical romance of the valley, composed on the captivity of Francis I., which has seldom since found a voice capable of giving it effect.
There is something in this old ballad very like those of Spain, both in character and rhythm; and there exist several others, on historical subjects, which have the same kind of simple merit:
the captivity of francis i.
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"Quan lou Rey parti de France," &c.
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When the king, from France departing,
Other lands to conquer sought,
'Twas at Pavia he was taken,
By the wily Spaniard caught.
"Yield thee, yield thee straight, King Francis,
Death or prison is your lot;"
"Wherefore call you me King Francis?
Such a monarch know I not."
Then the Spaniards raised his mantle,
And they saw the fleur-de-lys;—
They have chained him, and, full joyous,
Bore him to captivity.
In a tower, where sun nor moon-light
Came but by a window small;
There he lies, and as he gazes,
Sees a courier pass the wall.
"Courier! who art letters bringing,
Tell me what in France is said?"
"Ah! my news is sad and heavy—
For the king is ta'en, or dead."
"Back with speed, oh, courier, hasten—
Haste to Paris back with speed,
To my wife and little children;
Bid them help me at my need.