"There, there! Have a little patience, Master Devil; to-morrow you
shall drink my best ale. It cost me many a golden peter, my master,
and I will give you a whole barrelful. Do you not see that you must not
strangle me to-night, but rather to-morrow if I do not keep my word."
And after this fashion he wept and cried out until cock-crow. Then,
finding that he was not dead, he said his matins with a better heart.
At sun-up he went down himself to fetch the cask of ale from his
cellar, and placed it in the middle of the grass, saying: "Here is
the freshest and the best drink I have; I am no niggard. So have pity
on me, Master Devil."
III. Of the songs, voices, mewlings, and sounds of kisses which Pieter
Gans and Blaeskaek heard in the garden, and of the brave mien wherewith
Master Merry-face sat on the cask of stone.
At the third hour Blaeskaek came down and asked for news. Pieter Gans
told his tale, and as he was about to go away again drew him aside
and said: "I have kept this secret from my servants, lest they should
go and blab about it to the priests, and so I am as good as alone in
the house. Do not therefore leave me, for it may happen that some
evil will come of the business, and 'twould be well to have a good
stomach in case of such event. Alone I should certainly have none,
but together we shall have enough for both. It would be as well, then,
to fortify ourselves against this assault on our courage. Instead of
sleeping we will eat and drink heartily."
"For that," said Blaeskaek, "I am as ready as thou."
Towards midnight the two comrades, tippling in a low room, fortified
with good eating, but not without some apprehension nevertheless, heard
the same voice outside, no longer sorrowful, but joyous, singing songs
in a strange tongue; and there followed divers sweet chants, such as
angels might sing (speaking with proper respect to them all), who in
Paradise had drunken too much ambrosia, voices of women celestially
soft, mewlings of tigers, sighs, noise of embraces and lovers' kisses.
"Ho, ho!" cried Pieter Gans, "what is this, dear Jesus? They are devils
for a certainty. They will empty my cask altogether. And when they find
my ale so good they will want more of it, and come crying every night
and shouting louder than ever: 'Drink! Drink!' And I shall be ruined,
alas, alas! Come, friend Blaeskaek"--and so saying he pulled out his
kuyf, which is, as you may know, a strong knife well sharpened--"Come,
we must drive them off by force! But alone I have not the courage."
"I will come with you," said Blaeskaek, "but not until a little later,
at cock-crow. They say that after that hour devils cannot bite."
Before the sun rose the cock crew.
And he had, that morning, so martial a tone that you would have
thought it a trumpet sounding.
And hearing this trumpet all the devils suddenly put a stop to their
drinking and singing.
Pieter Gans and Blaeskaek were overjoyed at that, and ran out into
the garden in haste.
Pieter Gans, hurrying to look for his cask of ale, found it changed
into stone, and on top of it, sitting horseback fashion, what
seemed to be a young boy, quite naked, a fair, sweet little boy,
gaily crowned with vine-leaves, with a bunch of grapes hanging over
one ear, and in his right hand a staff with a fir-cone at the tip,
and grapes and vine-branches twined round it.
And although this little boy was made of stone, he had all the
appearance of being alive, so merry a countenance had he.
Greatly alarmed were Gans and Blaeskaek at the sight of this personage.
And fearing both the wrath of the devil and the punishment of the
Church, and swearing together to say no word about it to any one,
they put the figure (which was but a few thumbs high) in a dark cellar
where there was no drink kept.
IV. Wherein the two worthy men set out for Brussels, capital city
of Brabant, and of the manners and condition of Josse Cartuyvels
the Apothecary.
Having done so much they set out together for Brussels, there to
consult an old man, apothecary by trade, something of a glutton,
but liked well enough by the common folk on account of a certain
hotch-potch he made, well seasoned with rare herbs, for which he
asked a not unreasonable price. He was reputed by the devout to have
commerce with the devil, on account of the miraculous cures which he
effected in both man and beast by means of his herbs. Furthermore,
he sold beer, which he bought from Blaeskaek. And he was hideous to
look at, gouty, wizened, yellow as a guinea, wrinkled as an old apple,
and with carbuncles on his neck.
He lived in a house of mean appearance, in that part where you may
now see the brewery of Claes van Volxem. Gans and Blaeskaek, coming
thither, found him in his kitchen, making up his stews.
The apothecary, seeing Gans in such a piteous melancholy state,
asked him if he had some ill whereof he wished to be cured.
"He has nothing to be cured of," said Blaeskaek, "save an evil fear
which has been tormenting him for a week past."
Thereupon they told him the whole story of the chubby-faced image.
"Dear God!" said Josse Cartuyvels, for such was the name of this
doctor of stews, "I know this devil well enough, and will show you his
likeness." And taking them up to the top of his house, into a small
room which he had there, he showed them a gallant image of that same
devil, making merry with pretty maids and gay goat-foot companions.
"And what is the name," said Blaeskaek, "of this merry boy?"
"I have no doubt it is Bacchus," said Josse Cartuyvels. "In olden
times he was a god, but at the gracious coming of Our Lord Jesus
Christ"--here all three crossed themselves--"he lost at once his
power and his divinity. He was, in his time, good company, and more
particularly notable as the inventor of wine, beer, and ale. It may be,
on that account, that instead of hell he is only in purgatory, where
no doubt he has become thirsty, and by God's permission was allowed to
return to earth, once only, no more, and there sing this lamentable
song which you heard in your garden. But I suppose that he was not
allowed to cry his thirst in countries where wine is chiefly drunk,
and that he came accordingly to Master Gans, knowing well enough that
with him he would find the best ale in all Brabant."
"True," said Gans, "true, friend Cartuyvels, the best in the duchy;
and he drank up, if you please, a whole barrelful, without paying me
so much as the smallest gold piece, nor silver, nor even copper. That
is not the conduct of an honest devil."
"Ah!" said Cartuyvels, "there you are in error, and do not perceive
what is for your good and what for evil. But if you will take the
advice I am about to give you, you may find a way whereby you can make
clear profit from this Bacchus, for he is, you must know, the god of
jolly drinkers and good innkeepers, and I am disposed to think that
he will do you a good turn."
"Well, then," asked Blaeskaek, "what must we do now?"
"I have heard that this devil loves warmth and sunlight. So take him
out, first of all, from this dark cellar. Then put him in some place
whither the sun reaches, such as on top of the tall press which stands
in the room where your customers sit and drink."
"Sweet Jesus!" exclaimed Pieter Gans, "this is idolatry."
"In no wise," said the apothecary. "I mean only this; that, put up
where I tell you, sniffing the good smell of stoups and flagons, and
hearing jolly talk, he will grow altogether frolicsome and happy. So
may you bring Christian comfort to poor dead souls."
"But if," said Pieter Gans, "the priests should get wind of this
statue, so shamelessly set up for all to see?"
"They cannot find you guilty of sin, for innocence keeps nothing
secret. You will show this Bacchus openly to all your friends and
relatives, and say that you found him buried under the earth in a
corner of your garden. Thus you will make him seem an ancient relic, as
indeed he is. Only take care to forget his name when you speak of him
to any one, and, entitling him, as in jest, Master Merry-face, use this
name for him always, and institute in his honour a jolly brotherhood."
"So we will," answered Pieter Gans and Blaeskaek together, and they
then departed, not without having given the apothecary two large
coins for his trouble.
He did his best, however, to keep them back, so that they might partake
of some of his heavenly hotch-potch, but Pieter Gans turned him a deaf
ear, saying to himself that it was devil's cooking, unwholesome for
a good Christian stomach. So they left him and set out again for Uccle.
V. Of the long conversation and great perplexity of Pieter Gans and
Blaeskaek in the matter of the deviling; and how they returned to
Uccle with a resolution taken.
While they were on their way: "Well, comrade," said Gans to Blaeskaek,
"what is thy opinion of this apothecary?"
"A dog of a heretic!" said Blaeskaek, "a heathen, a despiser of all
good and all virtue. For 'twas treasonable and wicked counsel he
gave us."
"True, my good friend, true. And is it not besides a great heresy
to dare tell us that this deviling on his cask is he who invented
beer, wine, and ale, when we have heard it preached every Sunday in
our church that St. Noah, under the instruction of Our Lord Jesus
Christ"--here both crossed themselves--"invented these things."
"For my part," said Blaeskaek, "I know I have heard that preached
above a hundred times."
Here, seating themselves on the grass, they began to refresh themselves
with a fine Ghent sausage, brought by Pieter Gans against such time
as they should feel hungry.
"There, there," said he, "let us not forget the Benedicite, my
friend. So, perhaps, we may escape burning. For 'tis to God we owe
this meat: may he deign to keep us always in his holy faith."
"Amen," said Blaeskaek; "but, my master, between us we must certainly
break up this wicked statue."
"He who has no sheep fears no wolves. 'Tis easy enough for thee to
talk comfortably of breaking up this deviling."
"'Twould be a deed much to our credit."
"But if he come back again to wail each night so piteously:
'Drink! Drink!' And if he turn angry with me and cast spells on my
beer and my wine, and make me as poor as Job! Nay, better follow the
advice of the apothecary."
"Aye, and if the priests learn of the statue, and call us both before
the tribunal, and have us burnt as heretics and idolaters, what then?"
"Ah," said Gans, "here are the good God on the one hand and the wicked
devil on the other, fighting over our poor bodies, and we shall be
pounded to nothing between them, alas, alas!"
"Well," said Blaeskaek, "let us go to the good fathers openly, and
tell them the whole affair."
"Alas, alas! We shall be burnt, my good master, burnt without mercy."
"I believe there must be some way whereby to escape this danger."
"There is none, my friend, there is none, and we shall be burnt. I
feel myself already half roast."
"I have thought of a way," said Blaeskaek.
"There is none, my friend, there is no way whatever, unless it be
the clemency of the worthy fathers. Canst see no pilgrim or wandering
friar on the road?"
"None."
"If we see such a one we must give him all our sausage--have we said
our grace for it?--and all the bread in our wallet, and humbly invite
him into our house, to eat a quarter of roast lamb, well washed down
with old wine. I have not much of that kind, but I will gladly give
him all there is of it. Canst not see such a one coming?"
"No one," said Blaeskaek. "But open those rabbit's ears of thine
and hark to me: I will give thee good counsel, for I wish thee well,
blubberer. We must follow the apothecary's advice in half-and-half
fashion, so much only, you understand. 'Twould be idolatry of the
most shameless kind to put up this statue in the public hall."
"Alas, alas, by all the devils! yes, you are right."
"Very well, then we will put him in a cupboard, which shall be well
fastened, but with an opening on the top to let in the air. Therein
we will also put a small keg of good beer, and ask him not to use
it up too fast. In this way he will be, in fact, within the hall of
the inn, and he will keep himself well hid for certain, for in his
cupboard he will be able to take what pleasure he may from the songs
of the drinkers, rattling of mugs, and clinking of bottles."
"No," said Gans to that, "no, we must follow wholly the apothecary's
advice, for he knows more about devils than we. As for this deviling,
we will do our best to satisfy him, according to our means. But in
spite of it all, I fear we shall one day be burnt, alas, alas!"
VI. Wherein it is seen that the devil is not a good one; and of the
evil trick which he played on the good wives of the drinkers.
As soon as they reached The Horn, the two worthies took out from the
cellar the statue of the deviling and put it with great respect on
top of a press which stood in the hall.
On the morrow there came to this inn nearly all the men of Uccle,
brought together in this wise because on that day had been sold
publicly in their stables two horses well bred by the late sheriff,
Jacob Naeltjens. His son was in no mind to keep them, saying that a
man's best steeds were his slipper-shoes.
The men of Uccle were surprised and delighted when they saw the statue
of the youngster on the press, especially when Blaeskaek told them
that his name was Master Merry-face, and that it was proposed, by
way of jest, to establish forthwith in his honour a jolly brotherhood.
They were all willing to do this, and thereupon decided between
them that no one should be of their brotherhood until he had drunk,
as his baptism, four-and-twenty monstrous great cups of wine, while
another brother beat twelve strokes on the plumpest belly of the
company there present.
Each night thereafter they gathered together at The Horn, and drank
deep enough, as you may well guess.
The most wonderful thing about the business was that in spite of this
they worked all day like stout fellows, some at their crafts, some at
their trades, others in the fields, contented one and all. But their
good wives were not by any means contented, for as soon as vespers
sounded all their husbands and sweethearts went off to The Horn,
without giving them so much as a single thought, and there stayed
until curfew.
And when these worthies went home they did not beat their wives,
as some drinkers do, but lay down quietly beside them in bed, and
immediately, without saying a word, fell fast asleep and began to sound
such fanfares with their noses as Master Porker makes with his snout.
Then the poor women might thump them, cuff them, call their names as
they would, to get them to sing their bedfellows a different sort of
song, but all quite in vain: as well beat water to get fire out of it.
They awoke only with cock-crow, but their temper in the morning was
so rough and stormy that none of their womenfolk (that is to say,
of such as were not asleep from weariness) dared say a word, either
then or at the dinner-hour. All this was brought about by the evil
power and influence of the deviling.
On that account there was much sadness among the women, who said,
all of them, that if such a state of things went on for long the race
of the people of Uccle must needs become extinct, which would be a
great pity.