with merriment They poured over the wooden bridges into the precincts of
the towering oak, under which the elders seated themselves with the
musicians, the younger people streaming off to the clear ground between
the stones and the water.

When all were assembled the music struck up at a signal from an elder.
The instruments were akin to the goat-skin pipes of Lower Brittany; the
music wild, weird, appealing to the passion if not melodious to the ear.
At any rate the effect was inspiriting. First, the men danced, the
maidens seating themselves round the dancers and chanting the following
words, to the rhythm of which they swayed their bodies gracefully:--

"Mille Sarrazins, mille Sarmates,
Un jour nous avons tués.
Mille, mille, mille, mille, mille Perses,
Nous cherchons à present."

The dance, footed to this truculent chant, had no warlike features;
beginning with a march, or rather a tripping walk, it ended with feats
in which each dancer defied his neighbour to out-spring him; nor did the
vocalists appear to expect representations of strife and doughty deeds.
The words, Roman by origin, as is clear from the allusion to the
Persians, had been adapted to a native air by the conquerors, and had
been left by them as a legacy to the islanders. Next, the maidens trod a
measure, the men standing round and applauding; the dance was quiet and
soft, consisting principally of graceful movements of the body as if the
dancers were getting themselves into training for greater efforts; in
this case the dancers themselves chanted words suitable to the music.
This ended, there was a pause before the principal business of the day
began, the dance in which both sexes joined, to be followed by the