Just over
the way, arbours had been made from trees, by intertwining their
branches and allowing them to grow into one another; these were quite
full of gay, beautiful girls, amongst them one with fair hair and brown
eyes, who looked like a Tuscan, and from whom it was difficult to tear
one's eyes away.
After having inspected the courtyard of an old monastery, the lovely
pillars of which rejoiced my heart, I sat down a little on one side in
the street where the fair was, on my little camp-stool, which roused the
legitimate curiosity of the peasant girls. They walked round me, looked
at me from behind and before, and examined with grave interest the
construction of my seat. In front of me sat an olive and lemon seller.
Girls bargained with him as best they could in the press, others stood
and looked on. I had an opportunity here of watching their innate
statuesque grace. When they spoke, the right arm kept time with their
speech. When silent, they generally placed one hand on the hip, bent,
but not clenched. There were various types. The little blonde, blue-eyed
girl with the mild Madonna smile, and absolutely straight nose, and the
large-made, pronounced brunette. But the appearance of them all was such
that an artist or a poet could, by a slight transformation, have
portrayed from them whatever type of figure or special characteristic he
required.
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