|line||Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard,|
Stript of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of betrothal.
|405||There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary seated;|
There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith.
Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the beehives,
Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and of waistcoats.
Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his snow-white
|410||Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the fiddler|
Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers.
Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle,
Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres, and Le Carillon de Dunquerque,
And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music.
|415||Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances|
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;
Old folk and young together, and children mingled among them.
Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter!
Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the blacksmith!