CHAPTER XXV
THE SONG OF THE RHONE
With the spirit of the country, the whole crew and company of the Caburle—Maître Apian's barge in Mistral's poem—seems to be imbued. Even the little maiden Anglore—in love with a water-sprite—even she has caught something of the large abandon of the great stream.
Warned that the Prince—whom she believes to be the Drac—will fascinate and then desert her, she cries: "Eh! bien qu'il me fascine. Si mon destin est tel, moi, je me laisserai choir a la pipée, comme au gouffre béant tombe la feuille."
The whole poem is steeped in the movement and sunshine of the river: the charm of the life on its banks, especially in times now past; the plying of the barges up and down, laden with merchandise, the towns and ancient castles that they pass, the gay spirit of the passengers along this buoyant thoroughfare, "l'ornière du monde" as Maître Apian calls it, the owner of the "most famous equipage of the whole river"—seven barges and forty horses for towing. In the finest of them, the Caburle, he sets forth from the neighbourhood of Lyons to descend the river to Beaucaire for the great fair, his other barges following, with cargo and with food for the horses.
"Que sus la dougo, au retour de Prouvenço.
Gaiardamen remountavon la rigo."
(Qui sur la berge, au retour de Provence,
Gaillardement remontaient la convoi.)