Chapter X: Book II: I (2)

"Are not they goodly preachers, that you should go in crowds to hearken to the lies they belch forth, that the young girls should go by night to their sermons, aye, and that in nine months the town should be full of little beggar-boys and beggar-girls? There were four of them there, four scandalous vagabonds, that preached in the cemetery of the church. The first of these vagabonds, livid and lean, the ugly loose-belly, had a dirty hat upon his head. Thanks to it his ears were not to be seen. Which of you hath seen the ears of a preacher? He had no shirt, for his bare arms came linenless out through his doublet. I saw it well, though he tries to cover himself up with a dirty little cloak, and I saw, too, all right in his black canvas breeches, full of open work like the spire of Notre Dame, the swinging of his bells and clapper. The other vagabond preached in a doublet, and no shoes. Nobody saw his ears. And he had to stop short in his preachifying, and the boys and girls began to hoot him, crying: 'Yah! Yah! he doesn't know his lesson!' The third of these scandalous vagabonds had on his head a dirty ugly little hat, with a little feather sticking out of the top. And his ears were not to be seen, either. The fourth of the rascals, Hermanus, better arrayed than the others, must have been branded on the shoulder twice by the executioner, aye, verily.

"They all wear under their headgear greasy silk caps that hide their ears. Did you ever see the ears of a preacher? Which of these rogues ever dared to show his ears? His ears! Ah! yes, show his ears; they have all been cut off. Aye, the executioner has cut the ears off every one of them.

"And yet it was round about these scandalous rogues, these cut purses, these cobblers that have run away from their stools, these ragamuffin preachers, that all the whole populace went crying and shouting: 'Long live the Beggars!' as if they had all been mad, drunk, or fools.

"Ah, it only remains for us poor Roman Catholics to leave the Low Countries, since there they allow this bawling cry: 'Long live the Beggars! Long live the Beggars!' What a millstone of a curse hath therefore fallen upon this bewitched and foolish folk, ah! Jesus! Everywhere, rich and poor, noble and base, young and old, men and women, all cry out: 'Long live the Beggars!'

"And what are all these lords, these scald leather seats that have come to us from Germany? All their having is gone on harlots, or gaming, lechery, lewdness, long-drawn debauchery, rooted villainies, abominations of dice and ostentation of outward array. They have not even a rusty nail to scratch themselves with where they itch. And now they must needs have the goods and wealth of churches and convents.

"And there at their banquet in the house of that rogue De Culembourg, with that other rogue De Brederode, they drank in wooden bowls, for scorn of Messire de Berlaymont and Madame the Lady Governor. Aye, and they shouted 'Long live the Beggars!' Ah! if I had been the good God (with all respect), I would have caused their drink, whether it was beer or wine, to be changed into a foul and loathy dishwater, aye, into foul, abominable, stinking suds, in which they had washed their shirts and foul sheets.

"Aye, bawl, donkeys that you are, bawl 'Long live the Beggars!' Aye! and I am a prophet. And all the curses, miseries, fevers, plagues, conflagrations, ruins, desolations, cankers, English sweating sickness and black plagues will fall upon the Low Countries. Aye, thus will God be revenged upon your filthy braying of 'Long live the Beggars!' And there will not be left one stone of your houses upon another, and not a morsel of bone in your damned legs that ran to this accursed Calvinistry and preachifying. And so, so, so, so, so be it. Amen!"

"Let us go, my son," said Ulenspiegel to Lamme.

"In a moment," said Lamme.

And he looked and searched among the beautiful young devotees there present at the sermon, but he did not discover his wife.

XII

Ulenspiegel and Lamme came to the place called Minne-Water, Love-Water; but the great doctors and Wysneusen Pedants say it is Minre-Water, Minim-Water. Ulenspiegel and Lamme sat down upon the brink, seeing pass by beneath the trees all leafy down to their very heads, like a low roof, men, women, girls, and boys, hand in hand, garlanded with flowers, walking hip to hip, looking tenderly in one another's eyes, without seeing anything in this world but themselves.

Ulenspiegel, thinking of Nele, gazed at them. In his melancholy, he said:

"Let us go drink."

But Lamme, not hearkening Ulenspiegel, also looked upon the pairs of lovers:

"In the old days we, too, used to pass, my wife and I, loving each other under the eyes of those who like you and me, on the edge of ditches, were stretched out solitary and without a woman."

"Come and drink," said Ulenspiegel, "we shall find the Seven at the bottom of a quart."

"A drinker's word," answered Lamme: "you know the Seven are giants who could not stand upright under the big dome of the church of Saint Sauveur."

Ulenspiegel, thinking wretchedly of Nele, and also that in some hostelry he might perchance find a good bed, good supper, a comely hostess, said yet again:

"Let us go and drink!"

But Lamme paid no heed, and said, looking at the tower of Notre Dame:

"Madame Holy Mary, patroness of lawful loves, grant me to see again her white bosom, that soft pillow."

"Come and drink," said Ulenspiegel, "you shall find her, displaying it to the drinkers, in a tavern."

"Dost thou dare think so ill of her?" said Lamme.

"Let us go and drink," said Ulenspiegel, "she is baesine somewhere, without a doubt."

"Thirst talk," said Lamme.

Ulenspiegel went on:

"Perchance keepeth she in reserve for poor travellers a dish of goodly stewed beef, whose spices perfume the air, not too rich, tender, succulent as rose leaves, and swimming like Shrove Tuesday fishes amid cloves, nutmeg, cocks' combs, sweetbreads, and other celestial dainties."

"Cruel!" said Lamme, "you mean to kill me for sure. Do you not know that for two days we have lived on nothing but dry bread and small beer?"

"Hunger talk," answered Ulenspiegel. "You are weeping with appetite; come and eat and drink. I have here a fine half florin that will defray the cost of our feast."

Lamme laughed. They went to find their cart and thus went about the town, seeking to know which was the best inn. But seeing several crabbed countenances on the baes and no wise pleasing on the baesines, they passed on, thinking that a sour face is a poor sign for a hospitable kitchen.

They arrived at the Saturday Market and went into the hostelry called de Blauwe-Lanteern, the Blue-Lantern. Here there was a baes of pleasant aspect.

They put up their cart and had the ass lodged in the stable, in company with a peck of oats. They ordered supper to be served, ate their fill, slept well, and rose to eat again. Lamme, bursting with comfort, said:

"I hear heavenly music in my stomach."

When the time came to pay, the baes came to Lamme and said to him:

"Ten patards, if you please."

"He has them," said Lamme, pointing to Ulenspiegel who answered:

"I have not."

"And the half florin?" said Lamme.

"I have not got it," said Ulenspiegel.

"This is all very well," said the baes: "I shall take the doublet and the shirt off both of you."

Suddenly Lamme, plucking up bottle courage:

"And if I want to eat and drink, I," exclaimed he, "to eat and drink, aye, drink for twenty-seven florins worth or more, I will do it. Dost thou think there is not a sou's value in this belly of mine? Good God! it was never fed till now but on ortolans. Never didst thou carry the like under thy greasy girdle. For like an ill fellow thou hast thy tallow on the collar of thy doublet, and not like me, three inches of dainty fat on the paunch!"

The baes had fallen into an ecstasy of rage. A stammerer by nature, he wanted to speak quickly; the more he hurried, the more he sneezed and sputtered like a dog coming out of the water. Ulenspiegel threw little balls of bread at his nose. And Lamme, becoming hotter, went on:

"Aye, I have wherewith to pay for your three scraggy hens, your four mangy pullets, and that big idiot of a peacock dragging his dirty tail in your yard. And if your skin was not drier than an old cock's, if your bones were not crumbling to dust in your breast, I would have still enough to eat you, yourself, your snot of a man, your one-eyed maid and your cook, who if he had itch would have arms too short to scratch himself.

"Do you see," he went on, "do you see this fine bird that, for half a florin, wants to seize our doublets and our shirts? Tell me what your wardrobe is worth, tattered impertinence, and I will give you three liards for it."

But the baes, becoming angrier and angrier, puffed and blew the more.

And Ulenspiegel flung balls in his face.

Lamme, like a roaring lion, said:

"How much do you think, scrawny face, a fine ass is worth, with a fine muzzle, long ears, wide chested, with legs of iron? Eighteen florins at the least, is not that so, miserable baes? How many old nails have you in your coffers to pay for so fine a beast?"

The baes sputtered more and more, but dared not budge.

Lamme said:

"How much do you think a fine cart is worth, all made of ash painted red, and equipped all over with Courtrai canvas against the sun and the showers? Twenty-four florins at least, hey? And how much is twenty-four florins and eighteen florins? Answer that, leper devoid of arithmetic. And as it is a market day, and as there are farming folk in your miserable hostelry, I am going to sell cart and donkey to them at once."

And so it was done, for all knew Lamme. And in fact he got for his ass and his cart forty-four florins and ten patards. Then, clinking the gold under the nose of the baes, he said to him:

"Dost thou smell in that the savour of feasting to come?"

"Aye," replied the host.

And he said under his breath:

"When you are selling your skin, I will buy a liard's worth to make a charm against prodigality with it."

In the meantime, a pretty, taking woman who was in the dark of the yard had come again and again to look at Lamme through the window, and drew back every time he might have caught sight of her pretty face.

That night, on the staircase, as he was going up without a light, tottering a little from the wine he had drunk, he felt a woman who flung her arms about him, kissed him on the cheek, the mouth, even on the nose, gluttonously, and wetting his face with amorous tears, then left him.

Lamme, all sleepy from his drink, went to bed, fell asleep, and next day went off to Ghent with Ulenspiegel.

XIII

There he sought for his wife in all the kaberdoesjen, musicos, tafelhooren, and taverns. At night, he rejoined Ulenspiegel in den zingende Zwaan, at the Singing Swan. Ulenspiegel went wherever he could, spreading alarm and rousing the people against the butchers of the land of their fathers.

Finding himself in the Friday Market, near the Dulle-Griet, the Great Cannon, Ulenspiegel lay down flat on his face on the pavement.

A coalman came and said to him:

"What are you doing there?"

"I am damping my nose to know which way the wind blows," replied Ulenspiegel.

A carpenter came along.

"Do you take the pavement," said he, "for a mattress?"

"There are some," replied Ulenspiegel, "who will soon take it for a quilt."

A monk stopped.

"What is this moon calf doing there?" he asked.

"He is on his face begging for your blessing, Father," replied Ulenspiegel.

The monk having bestowed it, went on his way.

Ulenspiegel then lay with his ear against the ground. A peasant came by.

"Dost thou hear any noise from below?" he said.

"Aye," replied Ulenspiegel, "I hear the wood growing, the wood whose faggots will serve to burn poor heretics."

"Dost thou hear naught else?" said a constable of the commune to him.

"I hear," said Ulenspiegel, "the gendarmerie coming from Spain; if thou hast aught to keep, bury it, for soon the towns will be safe no longer by reason of robbers."

"He is mad," said the constable.

"He is mad," repeated the townsfolk.

XIV

Meanwhile, Lamme could not eat, thinking of the sweet vision of the stairs at the Blauwe-Lanteern. His heart turning to Bruges, he was led perforce by Ulenspiegel to Antwerp, where he continued his sorrowful searchings.

Ulenspiegel being in the taverns, in the midst of good Flemings of the reformed faith, or even Catholics that were lovers of liberty, would say to them about the proclamations: "They bring us the Inquisition under pretext of purging us from heresy, but it is meant for our purses, this rhubarb. We have no love to be physicked save at our own will and as we choose; we shall be wroth, we shall rebel and take arms in our hands. The king knew this well beforehand. Seeing that we have no mind to rhubarb, he will advance the syringes, to wit the great guns and the little guns, serpents, falconets, and mortars with their big mouths. A kingly clyster! There will not be left a single rich Fleming in all Flanders physicked in this fashion. Happy is our land to have so royal a physician."

But the townsfolk could only laugh.

Ulenspiegel would say: "Laugh to-day, but flee or arm on that day when something is broken at Notre Dame."

XV

On the 15th of August, the great feast of Mary and of the blessing of herbs and roots, when filled with corn the hens are deaf to the bugle of the cock imploring love, a great stone crucifix was broken at one of the gates of Antwerp by an Italian in the pay of the Cardinal de Granvelle, and the procession of the Virgin, preceded by fools in green, in yellow, and in red, came forth out of the church of Notre Dame.

But the Virgin's statue, having been insulted on the way by men whom no one knew, was hastily taken back into the choir of the church, the iron gates of which were shut.

Ulenspiegel and Lamme went into Notre Dame. Young beggars and ragamuffins, and some grown men among them, that nobody knew were in front of the choir, making certain signs and grimaces one to another. They were making a great din with feet and tongues. No one had seen them before in Antwerp, no one ever saw them again. One of them, with a face like a burned onion, asked if Mieke, that was Our Lady, had been afraid that she had gone back to the church in such a hurry.

"It is not of thee that she is afeared, ugly blackamoor," replied Ulenspiegel.

The young man to whom he spoke went up to him, to beat him, but Ulenspiegel, gripping him by the collar:

"If you strike me," said he, "I will make you spew out your tongue."

Then turning towards certain men of Antwerp that were present:

"Signorkes and pagaders," said he, pointing out the ragged young men, "be cautious, these are spurious Flemings, traitors paid to bring us to ill, to misery, and to ruin."

Then speaking to the strangers:

"Hey," said he, "donkey faces, withered with want, whence have ye the money that chinks to-day in your pouches? Have ye perchance sold your skins beforehand for drumheads?"

"Look at the sermonizer!" said the strangers.

Then they all began to shout together with one accord speaking of Our Lady:

"Mieke has a fine robe. Mieke has a fine crown! I will give them to my doxy."

They went away, while one of them had got up into a pulpit to proclaim insulting and outrageous things from it, and they came back crying:

"Come down, Mieke, come down before we go and fetch you. Perform a miracle, that we may see if you can walk as well as you can have Mieke carried about, the lazy thing!"

But Ulenspiegel cried in vain: "Workers of ruin, have done with your vile talk; all pillage is a crime!" They ceased not at all from their talk; and some spoke even of breaking into the choir to force Mieke to come down.

Hearing this, an old woman, who sold candles in the church, flung in their faces the ashes of her foot warmer; but she was beaten and flung down on the floor, and then the riot began.

The markgrave came to the church with his sergeants. Seeing the populace assembled, he exhorted them to leave the church, but so feebly that only a few went away; the others said:

"First we want to hear the canons singing vespers in honour of Mieke."

The markgrave replied:

"There shall be no singing."

"We will sing ourselves," answered the ragged strangers.

Which they did in the naves and near the porch of the church. Some played at Krieke-steenen, at cherry-stones, and said: "Mieke, you never game in paradise and you are bored there; play with us."

And insulting the statue without ceasing, they cried out, hooted and whistled.

The markgrave pretended to be afraid and departed. By his orders all the doors of the church were shut save one.

Without the populace having any hand in it, the ragtag and bobtail of the strangers became bolder and shouted more and more. And the roofs reechoed as though to the din of a hundred cannon.

One of them, he of the face like a burned onion, appearing to have some authority among them, got up into a pulpit, made a sign with his hand to them, and began to preach:

"In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost," said he: "the three making but one, and the one making three, God keep us in paradise from arithmetic; this day the twenty-ninth of August, Mieke went forth in great pomp of array to show her wooden face to the signorkes and pagaders of Antwerp. But Mieke, in the procession met the devil Satanas. And Satanas said to her, mocking her: 'There you are, high and mighty, prinked up like a queen, Mieke, and borne by four signorkes, and you will not look now at the poor pagader Satanas that makes his way on foot.' And Mieke answered: 'Begone, Satanas, or I bruise thy head still more than ever, foul serpent!' 'Mieke,' said Satanas, 'that is the task in which you have been spending your time for fifteen hundred years, but the Spirit of the Lord, your master, hath delivered me. I am stronger than you are; you shall not walk over my head any more, and I am going to make you dance now.' Satanas took a great whip, sharp and cutting, and started to flog Mieke, who dared not cry out for fear of showing her terror, and then she began to run as hard as she could, forcing the signorkes that were carrying her to run, too, so as not to let her fall with her gold crown and her jewels among the poor common folk. And now Mieke stays as stiff and as still as a frightened mouse in her niche, watching Satan, who is seated up at the top of the pillar under the little dome, and who says to her, still grasping his whip and grinning, 'I will make you pay for the blood and tears that flow in your name! Mieke, how goes your virgin birth? This is the time to flit. You shall be cut in twain, evil statue of wood, for all the statues of flesh and bone that were burned in your name, burned, hanged, buried alive without pity.' So spake Satanas; and he spoke well. And thou must come down from thy niche, bloody Mieke, Mieke the cruel, that wast in no way like thy son Christus."

And all the band of the strangers, hooting and crying out, shouted: "Mieke! Mieke! it is time to come out! Are you wetting your linen for fear in your niche? Up Brabant for the good Duke. Away with the wooden saints! Who will have a bath in the Scheldt! Wood swims better than fishes."

The populace listened to them without saying a word.

But Ulenspiegel, getting up into the pulpit, threw down the stair by main force the one that was haranguing.

"Fools fit to tie," he said, speaking to the populace; "lunatic fools, idiot fools, who see no further than the end of your dirty noses, do ye not see that all this is the work of traitors? They mean to make you commit sacrilege and pillage that they may declare you rebels, empty your coffers, cut off your heads, and burn you alive! And the king will inherit. Signorkes and pagaders, do not believe in the speeches of these artificers of woes: leave Notre Dame in her niche, live stoutly, working happily, spending your earnings and profits. The black devil of ruin has his eye upon you, and it is through sackings and destruction that he will call up the army of your foes to treat you as rebels and make Alba reign over you with dictatorship, inquisition, confiscation, and death."

"And he will inherit!"

"Alas," said Lamme, "do not pillage anything, signorkes and pagaders; the king is already very angry. The daughter of the embroideress told my friend Ulenspiegel so. Do not indulge in pillage, sirs!"

But the populace would not give ear to them.

The unknown kept shouting:

"Sack and turn out! Sack Brabant for the good Duke! To the river with wooden saints! They swim better than fishes!"

Ulenspiegel, still in the pulpit, cried in vain:

"Signorkes and pagaders do not suffer pillage! Do not call down ruin upon the town!"

He was plucked away from there all torn, face, doublet, and breeches, though he avenged himself with both feet and hands. And all bleeding he never ceased to cry out:

"Do not suffer pillage!"

But it was in vain.

The unknown and the ragtag and bobtail of the city flung themselves on the iron grille of the choir, which they broke through, crying:

"Long live the Beggar!"

They all set to work to break, sack, destroy. Before midnight this great church, in which there were seventy altars, every kind of noble paintings and precious things, was empty as a nut. The altars were broken, the images flung down, and all the locks smashed.

This being done, the same unknown set off to treat like Notre Dame, the Minor Brothers, the Franciscans, Saint Peter, Saint Andrew, Saint Michael, Saint Pierre-au-Pot, the Bourg, the Fawkens, the White Sisters, the Gray Sisters, the Third Order, the Preachers, and all the churches and chapels in the city. They took candles and torches out of them and ran around everywhere in this manner.

Among them there was no quarrel nor dispute; not one of them was hurt in that great demolishing of wood and other materials.

They betook themselves to The Hague to proceed there to the overthrow of statues and altars, without the reformed lending them any aid either there or elsewhere.

At The Hague, the magistrate asked them where was their commission.

"It is here," said one of them, striking upon his heart.

"Their commission, hear you, signorkes and pagaders?" said Ulenspiegel, having been informed of this. "So then there is someone who deputes them to this work of sacrilege. Let some robber thief come into my cottage; I will do as did the magistrate of The Hague, I will say, taking off my bonnet: 'Gentle robber, gracious rogue, worshipful rascal, show me your commission.' He will reply that it is in his heart that is greedy for my goods. And I shall give him the keys of everything. Seek, seek out who it is that profits by this pillage. Beware of the Red Dog. The great stone crucifix is flung down. Beware of the Red Dog!"

The Great Sovereign Council of Malines having given orders through its president Viglius, not to put any obstacle in the way of image breaking:--"Alas!" said Ulenspiegel, "the harvest is ripe for the Spanish reapers. The Duke! the Duke is marching upon you. Flemings, the sea rises, the sea of vengeance. Poor women and girls, flee the living grave! Poor men, flee the gallows, the fire, and the sword! Philip means to finish the bloody work of Charles. The father sowed death and exile, the son hath sworn that he would rather rule over a cemetery than over a heretic folk. Flee; here be the executioner and the gravediggers."

The populace hearkened to Ulenspiegel, and families left the cities by hundreds, and the roads were encumbered with carts laden with the household stuff of those that were going into exile.

And Ulenspiegel went everywhere, followed by Lamme grieving and looking for his beloved.

And at Damme Nele wept by the side of Katheline the madwife.

XVI

Ulenspiegel being at Ghent in the barley month which is October, saw Egmont returning from revelling and feasting in the noble company of the Abbot of Saint Bavon. Being in a singing humour, he was absentmindedly allowing his horse to go at a foot pace. Suddenly he saw a man who, carrying a lighted lantern, was walking alongside him.

"What wouldst thou of me?" asked Egmont.

"Good," replied Ulenspiegel, "the good of a lantern when it is lit."

"Begone and leave me," replied the Count.

"I will not begone," rejoined Ulenspiegel.

"Wouldst thou have a stroke of the whip then?"

"I would willingly have ten, if I can put in your head such a lantern that you might see clear from here to the Escurial."

"I take no stock in thy lantern nor in the Escurial," replied the Count.

"Well, for my part," answered Ulenspiegel, "it burns in me to give you a good advice."

Then taking by the bridle the Count's horse, rearing and kicking:

"Monseigneur," said he, "think that now you dance well on your horse and that your head dances also very well upon your shoulders; but the king, they say, means to interrupt this fine dance, to leave you your body, but to take your head and make it dance in a land so far away that you will never be able to overtake it. Give me a florin, I have earned it."

"The whip, if thou wilt not be off, evil newsmonger."

"Monseigneur, I am Ulenspiegel, the son of Claes, that was burned alive for his belief and of Soetkin that died of sorrow. The ashes beating upon my breast tell me that Egmont, the gallant soldier, might with the gendarmerie in his command oppose the thrice-victorious troops of the Duke of Alba."

"Begone," replied Egmont, "I am no traitor."

"Save the countries; you alone can save them," said Ulenspiegel.

The Count would have beaten Ulenspiegel; but he had not waited for this and fled away, crying:

"Eat lanterns, eat lanterns, Messire Count. Save the countries."

Another day, Egmont being athirst had stopped in front of the inn In 't bondt verken, the Piebald Pig--kept by a woman of Courtrai, a pretty piece, called Musekin, the Little Mouse.

The Count, rising up in his stirrups, cried out:

"Bring me to drink!"

Ulenspiegel, who was in Musekin's service, came up to the Count holding a pewter tankard in one hand and in the other a flask of red wine.

The Count, seeing him:

"Are you there," said he, "ill-omened raven?"

"Monseigneur," answered Ulenspiegel, "if my omens are black, 'tis because they are ill washen; but will you tell me which is the redder, the wine that goes down the throat or the blood that leaps out of the neck? That is what my lantern asked."

The Count made no answer, but paid and departed.

XVII

Ulenspiegel and Lamme, each mounted on an ass, which Simon Simonsen had given them, one of the faithfuls of the Prince of Orange, went everywhere, warning the burgesses of the black designs of the king of blood, and ever on the watch to discover news coming from Spain.

They sold vegetables, being clad like country folk, and haunted all the markets.

Coming back from the Brussels market, they saw in a stone house, on the Brick Quay, in a low chamber, a handsome dame clad in satin, high coloured, well bosomed, and with a lively eye.

She was saying to a fresh young cookmaid:

"Scour me this pan, I do not like rust sauce."

Ulenspiegel put his nose in at the window.

"I," said he, "I like every sauce, for a hungry belly is no great picker and chooser among fricassees."

The dame turning round:

"Who," said she, "is this fellow that interferes with my soup?"

"Alas! fair dame," answered Ulenspiegel, "if you would only make it in my company, I would teach you travellers' stews unknown to fair dames that sit at home."

Then clacking with his tongue, he said:

"I am thirsty."

"For what?" said she.

"For thee," said he.

"He is a pretty fellow," said the cookmaid to the dame. "Let us bring him in and let him tell us his adventures."

"But there are two of them," said the dame.

"I will look after one," replied the maid.

"Madame," said Ulenspiegel, "we are two, it is true, myself and my poor Lamme, who cannot carry five pounds on his back, but carries five hundred on his stomach in meats and drinks with the best will in the world."

"My son," said Lamme, "do not mock at an unhappy man to whom it costs so much to fill his paunch."

"It will not cost thee a liard to-day," said the dame. "Come within, both of you."

"But," said Lamme, "there are also two asses upon which we are."

"Pecks of corn," replied the dame, "are nowise lacking in the stable of the Count of Meghem."

The cookmaid left her pan and drew into the yard Ulenspiegel and Lamme bestriding their asses, which began to bray incontinent.

"That," said Ulenspiegel, "is the flourish for food near at hand. They are trumpeting their joy, the poor asses!"

And having both dismounted, Ulenspiegel said to the cookmaid:

"If you were a she-ass, would you like an ass like me?"

"If I was a woman," she replied, "I should like a young man with a jolly face."

"What are you, then, being neither woman nor ass?" asked Lamme.

"A virgin," quoth she, "a virgin is neither woman nor ass either: do you understand, big belly?"

Ulenspiegel said to Lamme:

"Do not believe her, 'tis half a wild girl and quarter of two she-devils. Her carnal tricks have already bespoken for her in hell a place on a mattress to fondle Beelzebub."

"Evil mocker," said the cook, "if your hairs were horsehair I would not have them even to walk on them."

"For my part," said Ulenspiegel, "I would like to eat all your hair."

"Golden tongue," said the dame, "must you have them all?"

"No," replied Ulenspiegel, "a thousand would suffice me melted down into one like you."

The dame said to him:

"Drink first a quart of bruinbier, eat a piece of ham, cut deep into this leg of mutton, disembowel me this pie, swallow me this salad."

Ulenspiegel joined his hands.

"Ham," said he, "is a good meat; bruinbier, heavenly beer; leg of mutton, divine flesh; a pie that one disembowels makes one's tongue tremble with pleasure in the mouth; a fat salad is princely swallowing. But blessed will he be to whom you will give to sup on your beauty."

"See how he rattles on," said she. "Eat first of all, vagabond!"

Ulenspiegel replied:

"Shall we not say the benedicite before the graces?"

"No," said she.

Then Lamme, whining, said:

"I am hungry."

"You shall eat," said the fair dame, "since you have no other care than for cooked meat."

"And fresh, too, as my wife was," said Lamme. The cookmaid became sullen at this word. All the same they ate copiously and drank in floods. And the dame that night gave Ulenspiegel his supper, and next day and the days that followed.

The asses had double measure of corn and Lamme a double portion. For a whole week he never left the kitchen, and he played with the dishes, but not with the cook, for he thought of his wife.

That angered the girl, who said it was hardly worth while to cumber the world only to think of one's belly.

Meanwhile, Ulenspiegel and the dame lived in good amity. And one day she said to him:

"Thyl, thou hast no manners: who art thou?"

"I am," said he, "a son that Happy Chance had one day on Good Adventure."

"Thou dost not missay thyself," said she.

"'Tis for fear others may not praise me," replied Ulenspiegel.

"Wouldst thou undertake the defence of thy brothers that are persecuted?"

"The ashes of Claes beat upon my breast," replied Ulenspiegel.

"How goodly thou art there!" said she. "Who is this Claes?"

Ulenspiegel replied:

"My father, burned for his belief."

"The Count of Meghem is not like thee," she said. "He would bleed the country I love, for I was born at Antwerp the glorious city. Know then that he has accorded with the Councillor Scheyf of Brabant to admit him into Antwerp with his ten companies of infantry."

"I will denounce him to the citizens," said Ulenspiegel, "and I go immediately, light as a ghost."

He went, and on the morrow the townsfolk were in arms.

However, Ulenspiegel and Lamme, having left their asses with a farmer of Simon Simonsen's, were forced to hide for fear of the Count de Meghem who had them searched for everywhere to have them hanged; for he had been told that two heretics had drunk of his wine and eaten of his meat.

He was jealous, and said so to the fair dame, who gnashed her teeth with anger, wept, and fainted seventeen times. The cookmaid did the same, but not so often, and declared upon her share of Paradise and eternal salvation that she nor her lady had done nothing, except to give the remains of a dinner to two poor pilgrims who, mounted on wretched donkeys, had stopped at the kitchen window.

And that day there were shed so many tears that the floor was all damp with them. Seeing which, Messire de Meghem was assured that they were not lying.

Lamme dared not show himself again at M. de Meghem's house, for the cook always called him "My wife!"

And he was exceedingly grieved, thinking of the food; but Ulenspiegel always brought him some good dish, for he used to go into the house by the rue Sainte Catherine and hide in the garret.

The next day, at vespers, the Count de Meghem confessed to the handsome goodwife how that he had determined to fetch the gendarmerie he commanded into Bois-le-Duc before daybreak. The goodwife went to the garret to recount this to Ulenspiegel.

XVIII

Ulenspiegel in pilgrim's robes set out incontinent with neither provisions nor money for Bois-le-Duc, in order to warn the citizens. He counted on taking a horse by the way at Jeroen Praet's, Simon's brother, for whom he had letters from the Prince, and from thence he would go full speed by cross-country ways to Bois-le-Duc.

Going along the highway, he saw a band of troopers coming. He was sore afraid because of the letters.

But, resolved to set a good face against misadventure, he waited the troopers stoutly, and stopped in the way muttering his paternosters; when they passed he marched with them, and learned that they were going to Bois-le-Duc.

A company of Walloons opened the march, and at the head was Captain Lamotte with his guard of six halberdiers; then according to their rank, the ensign with a smaller guard, the provost, his halberdiers and his two myrmidons, the chief of the watch, the baggage wardens, the executioner and his assistant, and fifes and tambourines making loud uproar.

Then came a Flemish company of two hundred men, with its captain and its standard bearer, and divided into two centuries commanded by the troop sergeants, and in decuries commanded by the rot-meesters. The provost and the stocks-knechten were likewise preceded by fifes and tambourines beating and squealing.

Behind them came, with bursts of laughter, twittering like warblers, singing like nightingales, eating, drinking, dancing, standing, lying, or riding, their women; handsome wild girls, in two open carts.

Some were clad like lansquenets, but in fine white linen low-necked, slashed on the arms, the legs, the doublet, showing their sweet flesh; with caps on their heads of fine linen edged with gold, and surmounted by handsome ostrich plumes floating in the wind. At their belts of cloth-of-gold touched off with red satin, hung the cloth-of-gold scabbards of their daggers. And their shoes, stockings, and breeches, their doublets, laces, and metal trappings were all made of gold and white silk.

Others were also clad in the fashion of landsknechts, but in blue, in green, in scarlet, in azure, in crimson, slashed, broidered, blazoned at their own caprice. And all wore upon their arm the armlet of the colour that indicated their profession.

A hoer-wyfel, their sergeant, would fain have made them keep silence; but by their captivating grimaces and speeches they forced him to laugh and never obeyed him at all.

Ulenspiegel, in pilgrim array, walked in company with the two troops, as a small boat might with a great ship. And he kept on murmuring his paternosters.

Suddenly Lamotte said to him:

"Whither art thou going thus, Pilgrim?"

"Master Captain," replied Ulenspiegel, who was hungry, "long ago I committed a grave sin and was condemned by the chapter of Notre Dame to go a-foot to Rome to ask for pardon from the Holy Father, who accorded it to me. I came back to these countries cleansed of my offence on condition that on the way I should preach the Sacred Mysteries to all and any soldiers I might meet with, who should in return for my sermons give me bread and meat. And thus preaching I sustain my poor life. Will you grant me permission to keep my vow at the next halt?"

"Yea," said Messire de Lamotte.

Ulenspiegel, mingling and fraternizing with the Walloons and Flemings, felt his letters underneath his doublet.

The girls cried out to him:

"Pilgrim, handsome pilgrim, come hither and show us the power of your scallops."

Ulenspiegel, drawing near to them, said modestly:

"My sisters in God, mock not ye the poor pilgrim who goeth over mountain and by vale to preach the holy faith unto soldiers."

And he devoured with his eyes their dainty charms.

But the girls, thrusting their sprightly faces into the openings in the canvas of the carts:

"You are very young," said they, "to preach to soldiers. Come up into our carts, we will teach you pleasant discourses."

Ulenspiegel would willingly have obeyed, but could not on account of his letters; already two of the girls, reaching their round white arms out of the cart, were trying to pull him up to them, when the hoer-wyfel, jealous, said to Ulenspiegel: "If you do not take yourself off, I will have your head off."

And Ulenspiegel went farther off, looking slyly at the fresh girls, all golden in the sun, which shone bright and clear on the road.

They came to Berchem. Philippe de Lannoy, sieur de Beauvoir, the commander of the Flemings, ordered them to halt.

At this place there was an oak of middle height, bereft of all its branches, except one big bough broken off halfway on which the month before there had been an Anabaptist hanged by the neck.

The soldiers stopped; the sutlers came to them, and sold them bread, wine, beer, meats of every kind. As for the girls, they sold them sugar, castrelins, almonds, tartlets, seeing which Ulenspiegel grew still hungrier.

Suddenly climbing up the tree like a monkey, he planted himself astride of the great bough that was some seven feet above the earth; there, lashing himself with a scourge, while the troopers and the girls made circle about him:

"In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost," said he. "Amen. It is written: 'He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord': soldiers, and ye, beauteous dames, sweet companions in love to these valiant warriors, lend ye to the Lord, which is to say: give me bread, meat, wine, beer, if ye will, tartlets if it please you, and God, who is rich, will repay it you in morsels of ortolans, in rivers of malvoisie, in mountains of sugar candy, in rystpap which ye shall eat in paradise with silver spoons."

Then bemoaning himself:

"See ye not with what cruel torments of penance I seek to merit forgiveness for my sins? Will ye not ease the sharp anguish of this scourge that woundeth my back and maketh me to bleed?"

"Who is this mad man?" said the troopers.

"Friends," answered Ulenspiegel, "I am not mad, but repentant and famished; for while my spirit weepeth for its guilty crimes, my belly weepeth its lack of meat. Blessed soldiers, and you, fair damsels, I see there among you fat ham, goose, sausages, wine, beer, tartlets. Will you not give somewhat to the pilgrim?"

"Aye, aye," said the Flemish troopers, "he has a good old phiz, the preacher."

And all began to throw pieces of food to him like balls. Ulenspiegel ceased not to talk, and went on eating, sitting astride the bough.

"Hunger," said he, "maketh man hard-hearted and unfit for prayer, but ham taketh away this evil humour all of a sudden."

"Look out, crackpot!" said a troop sergeant, throwing him a bottle half full.

Ulenspiegel caught the bottle in the air, and drinking by little sips, said:

"If a sharp and raging hunger is a thing harmful to the poor body of a man, there is another thing as hurtful, and that is the anguish of a poor pilgrim to whom generous soldiers have given, one a slice of ham, the others a bottle of beer. For the pilgrim is sober by his custom, and if he drank and had in his inside such scanty and trifling nourishment, he would be drunk immediately."

As he spoke, he caught once again a goose's thigh in the air.

"This," said he, "is a thing miraculous, to fish meadow fish out of the air. But it has disappeared, bone and all. What is greedier than dry sand? A barren woman and a famished stomach."

Suddenly he felt a halberd point prick him in the seat. And he heard an ensign say:

"Do pilgrims disdain a leg of mutton for the nonce?"

Ulenspiegel saw, spitted on the blade of the halberd, a big knuckle bone. Taking it he said:

"I will make a marrow flute of it to sing thy praises, compassionate halberdier. And yet," said he, eating at the knuckle bone, "what is a meal without dessert, what is a knuckle bone, however succulent, if after it the pilgrim doth not behold a tartlet displaying its blessed face?"

Saying this he put up his hand to his face, for two tartlets coming from the group of girls had flattened themselves out, one on his eye, the other on his cheek. And the girls laughed and Ulenspiegel answered:

"All thanks, sweet damsels, who give me accolades of sweetmeats."

But the tartlets had fallen to the ground.

Suddenly the drums beat, the fifes squealed, and the soldiers resumed their march.

Messire de Beauvoir bade Ulenspiegel come down from his tree and march beside the troop from which he would fain have been a hundred leagues, for from the talk of some sour-faced troopers he scented that they were suspicious of him, that they would before long seize him for a spy, would search him and hang him if they found his letters.

And so, letting himself tumble into a ditch, he cried:

"Pity, soldiers; my leg is broken, I cannot walk farther, let me get up into the women's cart."

But he knew that the jealous hoer-wyfel would never allow it.

The girls called to him from their cart:

"Now, come up, dear pilgrim, come. We will love you, caress you, feast you, heal you all in one day."

"I know," said he, "a woman's hand is a heavenly balm for every wound."

But the jealous hoer-wyfel, speaking to Messire de Lamotte:

"Messire," said he, "I believe that this pilgrim is fooling us with his broken leg, to get into the cart of the women. Give orders to leave him in the road."

"That is my will," said Messire de Lamotte.

And Ulenspiegel was left in the ditch.

Certain troopers, believing that he had really broken his leg, were sorry for it because of his jollity. They left him meat and wine enough for two days. The girls would fain have gone to help him, but not being able to, they threw him all the castrelins they had left.

The band was far away; Ulenspiegel made across the fields in his pilgrim's robes, bought a horse, and by highways and byways he came like the wind to Bois-le-Duc.

At the news of the coming of Messires de Beauvoir and de Lamotte, the townspeople took arms to the number of eight hundred, chose captains for them, and despatched Ulenspiegel to Antwerp disguised as a coalman to ask help from the Drinking Hercules, Brederode.

And the troopers of Messires de Lamotte and de Beauvoir could not come into Bois-le-Duc, a city armed and watchful, and ready for a stout defence.

XIX

The following month, a certain doctor, Agileus, gave Ulenspiegel two florins and letters with which he was to betake himself to Simon Praet, who would tell him what he had to do.

At Praet's, Ulenspiegel found food and shelter. He slept well, and well liking was his face in the flower of youth; Praet, on the contrary, with a wretched and pitiful mien, seemed for ever locked in with melancholy thoughts. And Ulenspiegel was astonished to hear by night, if by any chance he awoke, the noise of hammering.

However early he might rise, Simon Praet was up before him, and more pitiful his look, sadder still his eyes, gleaming like a man's making ready for death or for battle.

Often Praet sighed, clasping his hands for prayer, and ever seemed filled with indignation. His fingers were black and greasy, and so, too, were his arms and his shirt.

Ulenspiegel determined to discover whence came the hammering, and the black arms and the melancholy of Praet. One night, having been at the Blauwe Gans, the tavern of the Blue Goose, in company with Simon who was there against his will, he feigned to be so drunk and to have so much in his head that he must needs take it incontinently to his pillow.

And Praet brought him home mournfully.

Ulenspiegel slept in the garret, under the cats; Simon's bed was below, near the cellar.

Ulenspiegel, continuing his drunken feigning, went climbing staggering up the stairs, pretending to be about to fall and holding on by the rope. Simon helped him with tender care, like a brother. Having put him to bed, condoling with him for his drunkenness, and praying God to be good enough to forgive him, he came down, and soon Ulenspiegel heard the same noise of hammering that had awakened him many times.

Getting up noiselessly, he went barefoot down the narrow stairs, so that after two and seventy steps he found himself in front of a low little door, through the chinks of which filtered a thread of light.

Simon was printing broadsides on the old types of the time of Laurens Coster, the great fosterer of the noble art of printing.

"What dost thou there?" asked Ulenspiegel.

Simon answered in affright:

"If thou art on the devil's side, denounce me, that I may die; but if thou art on God's side let thy mouth be prison to thy tongue."

"I am on God's side," replied Ulenspiegel, "and wish thee no evil. What dost thou?"

"I am printing Bibles," answered Simon. "For if by day to keep my wife and my children I publish the cruel and wicked edicts of His Majesty, by night I sow the true word of God and thus repair the ill I did during the day."

"Thou art brave," said Ulenspiegel.

"I have the faith," replied Simon.

In very deed, it was from this holy printing shop that there issued the Bibles in Flemish that were distributed through the countries of Brabant, of Flanders, Holland, Zealand, Utrecht, Noord-Brabant, Over-Yssel, Gelderland, until the day when Simon was condemned to have his head cut off, thus finishing his life for Christ.

XX

Simon said one day to Ulenspiegel:

"Listen, brother, hast thou courage?"

"I have enough," replied Ulenspiegel, "to serve to flog a Spaniard to the death, to kill an assassin, to destroy a murderer."

"Could you," asked the printer, "stay patiently in a chimney place to hear what is said in a room?"

Ulenspiegel made answer:--"Having by the grace of God, strong loins and supple knees, I can stay a long while as I please, like a cat."

"Hast thou patience and a good memory?" asked Simon.

"The ashes of Claes beat upon my breast," answered Ulenspiegel.

"Hearken, then," said the printer; "you shall take this playing card folded in this wise, and you shall go to Dendermonde and knock twice loudly and once softly at the door of the house whose outward appearance is here limned. One will open to you and ask if you are the chimney sweeper; you shall answer that you are thin and that you have not lost the card. You shall then show him the card. And then, Thyl, you shall do your duty. Great woes hover above the land of Flanders. A chimney will be shown to you, prepared and swept in advance; you will find in it good climbing irons for your feet, and for your seat a little wooden board firmly stayed. When the one that opened the door to you bids you climb into the chimney, you shall do so, and there you shall remain quiet and still. Illustrious lords will meet within the chamber, before the chimney in which you will be. They are William the Silent, Prince of Orange, the Counts of Egmont, Hoorn, Hoogstraeten, and Ludwig of Nassau, the valiant brother of the Silent One. We of the reformed faith would know what these lords will and can undertake in order to save the country."

Now on the first of April Ulenspiegel did as he had been bidden, and posted himself in the chimney. He was satisfied to see that no fire burned in it, and thought that, having no smoke, he would thus have better hearing.

Presently, the door of the chamber opened, and he was pierced through and through by a gust of wind. But he took this wind patiently, saying that it would freshen his attentiveness.

Then he heard the lords of Orange, Egmont, and the others come into the chamber. They began to speak of their fears, of the king's anger and the bad administration of the public moneys and finances. One of them spoke in sharp, haughty clear tones; that was Egmont. Ulenspiegel recognized Hoogstraeten by his hoarse voice; De Hoorn by his big voice; Count Louis of Nassau by his firm and warrior-like speaking; and the Silent One, by his pronouncing all his words slowly as if he had first weighed every one in a balance.

The Count of Egmont asked why they were brought together a second time, while at Hellegat they had had leisure to determine on what they meant to do.

De Hoorn replied:

"The hours go by swiftly, the king grows angry; let us take care not to waste time."

The Silent One said then:

"The countries are in danger; we must defend them against the attack of an army of foreigners."

Egmont replied, growing angry, that he found it astonishing that the king his master should think it necessary to send an army there, at a time when all was pacified by the care of the lords and especially by himself.

But the Silent:

"Philip hath in the Low Countries fourteen bands of regulars, of whom all the soldiers are devoted to him who commanded at Gravelines and at Saint Quentin."

"I do not understand," said Egmont.

The prince went on:

"I do not wish to say more, but there will be read to you and the assembled lords certain letters, those from the poor prisoner Montigny to begin with.

"In these letters, Messire de Montigny wrote: