Ulenspiegel went in den Blauwe Gans, to the Blue Goose, to JoosLansaem, who was at the bar.
Ulenspiegel took from his pocket a little flask of brandy, and saidto him:
"Boelkin has two casks for sale."
"Come into my kitchen," said the baes.
There, shutting the door, and looking fixedly at him:
"You are no brandy merchant; what do these winkings of your eyesmean? Who are you?"
Ulenspiegel replied:
"I am the son of Claes that was burned at Damme; the ashes of thedead man beat upon my breast; I would fain kill Spelle, the murderer."
"It is Boelkin who sends you?" asked the host.
"Boelkin sends me," replied Ulenspiegel. "I will kill Spelle; youshall help me in it."
"I will," said the baes. "What must I do?"
Ulenspiegel replied:
"Go to the cure, the good pastor, an enemy to Spelle. Assemble yourfriends together and be with them to-morrow, after the curfew, onthe Everghem road, above Spelle's house, between the Falcon and thehouse aforesaid. All post yourselves in the shadows and have no whiteon your clothes. At the stroke of ten you will see Spelle coming outfrom the tavern and a wagon coming from the other side.
"Do not tell your friends to-night; they sleep too near to their wives'ears. Go and find them to-morrow. Come, now, listen to everythingclosely and remember well."
"We shall remember," said Joos. And raising his goblet: "I drink toSpelle's halter."
"To the halter," said Ulenspiegel. Then he went back with the baesinto the tavern chamber where there sate drinking certain old clothesmerchants of Ghent who were coming back from the Saturday market atBruges, where they had sold for high prices doublets and short mantlesof cloth of gold and silver bought for a few sous from ruined nobleswho desired by their luxury and splendour to imitate the Spaniards.
And they kept revels and feasting because of their big profits.
Ulenspiegel and Joos Lansaem, sitting in a corner, as they drank,and without being heard, agreed that Joos should go to the cure ofthe church, a good pastor, incensed against Spelle, the murderer ofinnocent men. After that he would go to his friends.
On the morrow, Joos Lansaem and Michielkin's friends, having beenforewarned, left the Blauwe Gans, where they had their pints as usual,and so as to conceal their plans went off at curfew by different ways,and came to the Everghem causeway. They were seventeen in number.
At ten o'clock Spelle left the Falcon, followed by his two catchpollsand Pieter de Roose. Lansaem and his troop were hidden in the barnbelonging to Samson Boene, a friend of Michielkin. The door of thebarn was open. Spelle never saw them.
They heard him pass by, staggering with drink like Pieter de Rooseand his two catchpolls also, and saying, in a thick voice and withmany hiccups:
"Provosts! provosts! life is good to them in this world; hold me up,gallows birds that live on my leavings!"
Suddenly were heard upon the road, from the direction of the opencountry, the braying of an ass and the crack of a whip.
"There is a restive donkey indeed," said Spelle, "that won't go onin spite of that good warning."
Suddenly they heard a great noise of wheels and a cart leaping alongand coming down the middle of the road.
"Stop it!" cried Spelle.
As the cart passed beside them, Spelle and his two catchpolls threwthemselves on the donkey's head.
"This cart is empty," said one of the catchpolls.
"Lubber," said Spelle, "do empty carts gallop about by night allalone? There is somebody in this cart a-hiding; light the lanterns,hold them up, I am going to look in it."
The lanterns were lighted and Spelle climbed up on the cart, holdinghis own lamp; but scarcely had he looked than he uttered a great cry,and falling back, said:
"Michielkin! Michielkin! Jesu! have pity upon me!"
Then there rose up from the floor of the cart a man clad in white aspastry cooks are and holding in his hands two bloody feet.
Pieter de Roose, seeing the man stand up, illuminated by the lanterns,cried with the two catchpolls:
"Michielkin! Michielkin, the dead man! Lord have pity upon us!"
The seventeen came at the noise to look at the spectacle and wereaffrighted to see in the light of the clear moon how like was theimage of Michielkin, the poor deceased.
And the ghost waved his bleeding feet.
It was his same full round visage, but pale through death, threatening,livid, and eaten under the chin by worms.
The ghost, still waving his bleeding feet, said to Spelle, who wasgroaning, lying flat on his back:
"Spelle, Provost Spelle, awake!"
But Spelle never moved.
"Spelle," said the ghost again, "Provost Spelle, awake or I fetchthee down with me into the mouth of gaping hell."
Spelle got up, and with his hair straight up for terror, criedlamentably:
"Michielkin! Michielkin, have pity!"
Meanwhile, the townsfolk had come up, but Spelle saw nothing savethe lanterns, which he took for the eyes of devils. He confessed asmuch later.
"Spelle," said the ghost of Michielkin, "art thou prepared to die?"
"Nay," replied the provost, "nay, Messire Michielkin; I am nowiseprepared for it, and I would not appear before God with my soul allblack with sin."
"Dost thou know me?" said the ghost.
"May God be my helper," said Spelle, "yea, I know thee; thou art theghost of Michielkin, the pastry cook, who died, innocently in his bed,of the after effects of torture, and the two bleeding feet are thoseupon each of which I had a weight of fifty pounds hung. Ha! Michielkin,forgive me, this Pieter de Roose was so strong a tempter; he offeredme fifty florins, which I accepted, to put thy name on the list."
"Dost thou desire to confess thyself?" said the ghost.
"Aye, Messire, I desire to confess myself, to tell all and dopenance. But deign to send away these demons that are there, readyto devour me. I will tell all. Take away those fiery eyes! I didthe same thing at Tournay, with respect to five townsmen; the sameat Bruges, with four. I no longer know their names, but I will tellthem you if you insist; elsewhere, too, I have sinned, lord, and ofmy doing there are nine and sixty innocents in the grave. Michielkin,the king needed money. I had been informed of that, but I needed moneyeven likewise; it is at Ghent, in the cellar, under the pavement,in the house of old Grovels my real mother. I have told all, all:grace and mercy! Take away the devils. Lord God, Virgin Mary, Jesus,intercede for me: save me from the fires of hell, I will sell all Ihave, I will give everything to the poor, and I will do penance."
Ulenspiegel, seeing that the crowd of the townsmen was ready touphold him, leapt from the cart at Spelle's throat and would havestrangled him.
But the cure came up.
"Let him live," said he; "it is better that he should die by theexecutioner's rope than by the fingers of a ghost."
"What are you going to do with him?" asked Ulenspiegel.
"Accuse him before the duke and have him hanged," replied thecure. "But who art thou?" asked he.
"I," replied Ulenspiegel, "am the mask of Michielkin and the personof a poor Flemish fox who is going back into his earth for fear ofthe Spanish hunters."
In the meantime, Pieter de Roose was running away at full speed.
And Spelle having been hanged, his goods were confiscated.
And the king inherited.
XXXIII
The next day Ulenspiegel went towards Courtray, going alongside theLys, the clear river.
Lamme went pitifully along.
Ulenspiegel said to him:
"You whine, cowardly heart, regretting the wife that made you wearthe horned crown of cuckoldom."
"My son," said Lamme, "she was always faithful, loving me enough asI loved her over well, sweet Jesus. One day, being gone to Bruges,she came back thence changed. From then, when I prayed her of love,she would say to me:
"'I must live with you as a friend, and not otherwise.'
&n
bsp; "Then, sad in my heart:
"'Beloved darling,' I would say, 'we were married before God. Did Inot for you everything you ever wished? Did not I many a time clothemyself with a doublet of black linen and a fustian cloak that I mightsee you clad in silk and brocade despite the royal ordinances? Darling,will you never love me again?'
"'I love thee,' she would say, 'according to God and His laws,according to holy discipline and penance. Yet I shall be a virtuouscompanion to thee.'
"'I care naught for thy virtue,' I replied, ''tis thou I want, thou,my wife.'
"Nodding her head:
"'I know thou art good,' she said; 'until to-day thou wast cookin the house to spare me the labour of fricassees; thou didst ironour blankets, ruffs, and shirts, the irons being too heavy for me;thou didst wash our linen, thou didst sweep the house and the streetbefore the door, so as to spare me all fatigue. Now I desire to workinstead of you, but nothing more, husband.'
"'That is all one to me,' I replied; 'I will be, as in the past,thy tiring maid, thy laundress, thy cook, thy washwoman, thy slave,thy very own, submissive; but wife, sever not these two hearts andbodies that make but one; break not that soft bond of love thatclasped us so tenderly together.'
"'I must,' she replied.
"'Alas!' I would say, 'was it at Bruges that thou didst come to thisharsh resolve?'
"She replied:
"'I have sworn before God and His saints.'
"'Who, then,' I cried, 'forced thee to take an oath not to fulfilyour duties as a wife?'
"'He that hath the spirit of God, and ranks me among the number ofhis penitents,' said she.
"From that moment she ceased to be mine as much as if she had beenthe faithful wife of another man. I implored her, tormented her,threatened her, wept, begged, but in vain. One night, coming backfrom Blanckenberghe, where I had been to receive the rent of oneof my farms, I found the house empty. Without doubt fatigued withmy entreaties, grieved and sad at my distress, my wife had takenflight. Where is she now?"
And Lamme sat down on the bank of the Lys, hanging his head andlooking at the water.
"Ah!" said he, "my dear, how plump, tender, and delicious thouwast! Shall I ever find a lass like thee? Daily bread of love,shall I never eat of thee again? Where are thy kisses, as full offragrance as thyme; thy delicious mouth whence I gathered pleasure asthe bee gathers the honey from the rose; thy white arms that wrappedme round caressing? Where is thy beating heart, thy round bosom,and the sweet shudder of thy fairy body all panting with love? Butwhere are thy old waves, cool river that rollest so joyously thy newwaves in the sunshine?"
XXXIV
Passing before the wood of Peteghem, Lamme said to Ulenspiegel:
"I am roasting hot; let us seek the shade."
"Let us," replied Ulenspiegel.
They sat down in the wood, upon the grass, and saw a herd of stagspass in front of them.
"Look well, Lamme," said Ulenspiegel, priming his German musket. "Thereare the tall old stags that still have their dowcets, and carry proudand stately their nine-point antlers; lovely brockets, that are theirsquires, trot by their side, ready to do them service with theirpointed horns. They are going to their lair. Turn the musket lock asI do. Fire! The old stag is wounded. A brocket is hit in the thigh;he is in flight. Let us follow him till he falls. Do as I do: run,jump, and fly."
"There is my mad friend," said Lamme, "following stags on foot. Fly notwithout wings; it is labour lost. You will never catch them. Oh! thecruel comrade! Do you imagine I am as agile as you? I sweat, my son;I sweat and I am going to fall. If the ranger catches you, you willbe hanged. Stag is kings' game; let them run, my son, you will nevercatch them."
"Come," said Ulenspiegel, "do you hear the noise of his antlers in thefoliage? It is a water spout passing. Do you see the young branchesbroken, the leaves strewing the ground? He has another bullet in histhigh this time; we will eat him."
"He is not cooked yet," said Lamme. "Let these poor beasts run. Ah! howhot it is! I am going to fall down there without doubt and I shallnever rise again."
Suddenly, on all sides, men clad in rags and armed filled theforest. Dogs bayed and dashed in pursuit of the stags. Four fiercefellows surrounded Lamme and Ulenspiegel and brought them into aclearing, in the middle of a brake, where they saw encamped there,among women and children, men in great numbers, armed diversely withswords, arbalests, arquebuses, lances, pikestaff, and reiter's pistols.
Ulenspiegel, seeing them, said to them:
"Are ye the leafmen or Brothers of the Woods, that ye seem to livehere in common to flee the persecution?"
"We are Brothers of the Woods," replied an old man sitting besidethe fire and frying some birds in a saucepan. "But who art thou?"
"I," replied Ulenspiegel, "am of the goodly country of Flanders,a painter, a rustic, a noble, a sculptor, all together. And throughthe world in this wise I journey, praising things lovely and goodand mocking loudly at all stupidity."
"If thou hast seen so many countries," said the ancient man, "thoucanst pronounce: Schild ende Vriendt, buckler and friend, in thefashion of Ghent folk; if not, thou art a counterfeit Fleming andthou shalt die."
Ulenspiegel pronounced: Schild ende Vriendt.
"And thou, big belly," asked the ancient man, speaking to Lamme,"what is thy trade?"
Lamme replied:
"To eat and drink my lands, farms, fees, and revenues, to seek formy wife, and to follow in all places my friend Ulenspiegel."
"If thou hast travelled so much," said the old man, "thou art notwithout knowledge of how they call the folk of Weert in Limbourg."
"I do not know it," replied Lamme; "but would you not tell me the nameof the scandalous vagabond who drove my wife from her home? Give itto me; I will go and slay him straightway."
The ancient man made answer:
"There are two things in this world which never return once havingtaken flight: they are money spent and a woman grown tired andrun away."
Then speaking to Ulenspiegel:
"Dost thou know," said he, "how they call the men of Weert inLimbourg?"
"De reakstekers, the exorcisers of skates," replied Ulenspiegel,"for one day a live ray having fallen from a fishmonger's cart, oldwomen seeing it leap about took it for the devil. 'Let us go fetchthe cure to exorcise the skate,' said they. The cure exorcised it,and carrying it off with him, made a noble fricassee in honour ofthe folk of Weert. Thus may God do with the bloody king."
Meanwhile, the barking of the dogs reechoed in the forest. The armedmen, running in the wood, were shouting to frighten the beast.
"'Tis the stag and the brocket I put up," said Ulenspiegel.
"We shall eat him," said the old man. "But how do they call the folkof Eindhoven in Limbourg?"
"De pinnemakers, boltmakers," replied Ulenspiegel. "One day the enemywas at the gate of their city; they bolted it with a carrot. The geesecame and ate the carrot with great pecks of their greedy beaks, andthe enemies came into Eindhoven. But it will be iron beaks that willeat the bolts of the prisons wherein they seek to lock up freedomof conscience."
"If God be with us, who shall be against us?" replied the ancient man.
Ulenspiegel said:
"Dogs baying, men shouting, branches broken; 'tis a storm in theforest."
"Is it good meat, stag meat?" asked Lamme, looking at the fricassees.
"The cries of the trackers come nearer," said Ulenspiegel to Lamme;"the dogs are close at hand. What thunder! The stag! the stag! takecare, my son. Fie! the foul beast; he has flung my big friend downto the earth in the midst of the pans, saucepans, cooking pots,boilers, and fricassees. There are the women and girls fleeing daftwith fright. You are bleeding, my son?"
"You are laughing, scoundrel," said Lamme. "Aye, I am bleeding; hehath landed his antlers in my seat. There, see my breeches torn, andmy flesh, too, and all those lovely fricassees on the ground. There,I am losing all my blood down my hose."
"This stag is a foresighted surgeon; he is sav
ing you from anapoplexy," replied Ulenspiegel.
"Fie! rascal without a heart," said Lamme. "But I will follow youno more. I will stay here in the midst of these good fellows andthese good women. Can you, without any shame, be so hardhearted tomy woes, when I walk at your heels like a dog, through snow, frost,rain, hail, wind, and when it is hot weather, sweating my very soulout through my skin?"
"Your wound is nothing. Clap an olie-koekje on it; that will be bothplaster and fry to it," answered Ulenspiegel. "But do you know howthey call the folk of Louvain? You do not know it, poor friend. Well,then, I am about to tell you to keep you from whimpering. They callthem de koeye-schieters, cow shooters, for they were one day sillyenough to fire on cows, which they took for enemy soldiers. As for us,we fire on Spanish goats; their flesh is stinking stuff, but theirskin is good to make drums withal. And the folk of Tirlemont? Doyou know it? Not that, either. They carry the proud nickname ofkirekers. For in their town, in the great church, on Whit Sunday, adrake flies from the rood-loft altar, and that is the image of theirHoly Ghost. Put a koeke-bakke on your wound. You pick up without aword the cooking pots and fricassees overturned by the stag. 'Tiskitchen courage. You relight the fire, and set up the soup pot againupon its three stakes; you are busying yourself very attentively withthe cooking. Do you know why there are four wonders in Louvain? No. Iwill tell you why. In the first place, because the living there passunderneath the dead, for the church of Saint-Michel is built closeto the gate of the town. Its graveyard is therefore above. Secondly,because the bells there are outside the towers, as is seen at thechurch of Saint-Jacques, where there is a great bell and a littlebell; being unable to place the little one inside the bell tower,they placed it outside. Thirdly, because of the Tower-without-Nails,because the spire of the church of Saint-Gertrude is made of stoneinstead of being made of wood, and because men do not nail stones,except the bloody king's heart which I would fain nail above the greatgate of Brussels. But you are not listening to me. Is there no saltin the sauces? Do you know why the folk of Tirlemont call themselveswarming pans, de vierpannen? Because a young prince being come inwinter to sleep at the inn of the Arms of Flanders, the innkeeper didnot know how to air the blankets, for he had no warming pan. He hadthe bed aired by his daughter, who, hearing the prince coming, madeoff running, and the prince asked why they had not left the warmingpan in the bed. May God bring it about that Philip, shut in a box ofred-hot iron, may serve as warming pan in the bed of Madame Astarte."