That day there came to Smetse many persons, both notable and common,
nobles, priests, burgesses, and peasants, to give him orders for much
work, and so it went on again on other days, and all through the year.
Soon the smithy became too small, and Smetse had to enlarge it by
reason of the ever-growing numbers of his workmen. And the work which
they did was so beautiful and so marvellously well done that the fame
of it spread abroad to foreign and distant countries, and people came
to see and admire it from Holland, Zeeland, Spain, Germany, England,
and even from the land of the Turk.
But Smetse, thinking of the seven years, was not happy at all.
Soon his coffers were full of fine crusats, angelots, rose nobles,
and golden jewels. But he found no pleasure in looking at all this
wealth, for he thought them poor payment for giving his soul to the
devil for all the length of eternity.
Red Slimbroek lost all his customers, who came back one by one to
Smetse. Ragged and miserable he used to come every day and lounge on
the quay, watching from there the bright fire glowing in the forge
of the good smith, and, so standing, he seemed dazed and stupid,
like an owl watching a doit. Smetse, knowing that he was needy,
sent him several customers to bring him some means of sustenance,
and also more than once a gift of money. But although he thus repaid
evil with good he was no longer happy, thinking of the seven years.
Smetse's wife, finding him so wealthy, bought for dinner each
Sunday legs of fat mutton, geese, capons, turkeys, and other good
meats; invited to her table his relatives, friends, and workmen;
and then there would be a great feast, well washed down with double
bruinbier. But Smetse, though he ate and drank like an emperor, was not
at all happy, thinking of the seven years. And the steam from the roast
meats spread abroad on the Quai aux Oignons, so fragrant and succulent,
and so sweetening the air, that all the dogs wandering in the streets
of the town would stop before the house and sniff at the smell, and
there on their haunches, nose in air, would wait for crumbs: and the
beggars, of whom there were great numbers, came thither likewise and
tried to drive away the dogs. Thereupon ensued furious battles, in
which many were badly bitten. Seeing this, Smetse's wife and other
women would come every Sunday to the door with baskets of alms,
and there, before the meal began, would give the beggars good bread,
slices of meat, and two farthings to get themselves drink, and all
this with soft words and fair speaking; then they charged them to
go away from the quay, which they did in an orderly manner. But the
dogs stayed behind, and at the end of the feast there was given to
them likewise food of some sort. And then they would go off also,
taking each his bone or other booty.
Smetse and his wife together took both dogs and men into their
affection; to the beggars he gave food and shelter; and so also to
all the dogs of Ghent that were lame, infirm, or sickly, until at
length his house came to be called the Dogs' Hospital and the Home
of the Poor.
Nevertheless he was not at all happy, thinking of the seven years.
Worn and troubled with these thoughts, Smetse stopped singing and
lost his fat, shrivelled visibly, became melancholy and moody, and
in his smithy said never a word, except to give a necessary order.
And he was no longer called Smetse the Merry, but Smetse the Rich.
And he counted the days.
VIII. How there came a ragged, wayfarer to Smetse's door, and with him,
on an ass, a sweet wife and a little child.
On the two hundred and forty-fifth day of the seventh year, when
the plum-trees were in bloom, Smetse, dumb as a stone, was taking
a little noonday rest. He sat on a wooden bench opposite his door,
and with melancholy mien looked at the trees planted all along the
quay, and the small birds playing among the branches or squabbling
and pecking one another over some morsel of food, and blinked in the
bright sun which made these birds so merry, and heard at his back
the goodly sounds of his forge, his wife preparing dinner, and his
workmen hurrying at their work so that they might be off to their meal,
for it was nearing the time; and he said to himself that in hell he
would see neither the sun, nor the birds, nor the trees with their
load of green leaves, nor hear any more the sounds of his forge,
nor the smiths hurrying, nor his good wife preparing dinner.
By and by the workmen came out, and Smetse was left sitting alone
on his bench, pondering in his mind whether there were not some way
whereby he might outwit the devil.
Suddenly there drew up at his door a man of piteous appearance, with
brown hair and beard, dressed like a ragged townsman, and carrying
a great staff in his hand. He was walking beside an ass, and leading
it along by a rein. On the ass rode a sweet and beautiful young woman
with a noble mien, suckling a little child, who was quite naked, and
of such gentle and winsome countenance that the sight of it warmed
Smetse's heart.
The ass stopped at the door of the smithy and began to bray loudly.
"Master smith," said the man, "our ass has cast one of his shoes
on his way hither, wilt thou be pleased to give orders that another
should be given him?"
"I will do it myself," said Smetse, "for I am alone here."
"I should tell thee," said the man, "that we are beggars, without
money."
"Have no care for that," said Smetse, "I am rich enough to be able
to shoe in silver without payment all the asses in Flanders."
Hearing this the woman alighted from the ass and asked Smetse if she
might sit down on the bench.
"Yes," said he.
And while he was fastening up the beast, paring his hoof and fitting
the shoe, he said to the man: "Whence come you, with this woman and
this ass?"
"We come," said the man, "from a distant country, and have still far
to go."
"And this child whom I see naked," said Smetse, "does he not oftentimes
suffer from the cold?"
"Nay," said the man, "for he is all warmth and all life."
"Well, well," said Smetse, "you do not cry down your own children,
master. But what is your meat and drink while you are travelling in
this manner?"
"Water from streams," said the man, "and such bread as is given us."
"Ah," said Smetse, "that is not much, I see, for the ass's panniers
are light. You must often go hungry."
"Yes," said the man.
"This," said Smetse, "is displeasing to me, and it is most unwholesome
for a nursing mother to suffer hunger, for so the milk turns sour,
and the child grows in sickly wise." And he called out to his wife:
"Mother, bring hither as many loaves and hams as will fill the panniers
of this beast. And do not forget some double bruinbier, 'tis heavenly
comfort for poor travellers. And a good peck of oats for the ass."
When the panniers were filled and the beast shod, the man said to
Smetse: "Smith, it is in my mind to give thee some recompense for
thy great goodness, for such as thou seest me I have great power."
"Yes," said Smetse, with a smile, "I can see that well enough."
"I am," said the man, "Joseph, nominal husband of the very blessed
Virgin Mary, who is sitting on this bench, and this child that she
has in her arms is Jesus, thy Saviour."
Smetse, dumbfounded at these words, looked at the wayfarers with
great astonishment, and saw about the man's head a nimbus of fire,
a crown of stars about the woman's, and, about the child's, beautiful
rays more brilliant than the sun, springing from his head and girdling
him round with light.
Thereupon he fell at their feet and said: "My Lord Jesus, Madam
the Virgin, and my Master St. Joseph, grant me pardon for my lack
of understanding."
To this St. Joseph replied: "Thou art an honest man, Smetse, and
righteous as well. For this reason I give thee leave to make three
requests, the greatest thou canst think of, and my Lord Jesus will
listen to them favourably."
At these words Smetse was filled with joy, for it seemed to him that
in this way he might perhaps escape the devil; but at the same time
he did not dare to avow that he had traded his soul away. So he
remained in silence for a few moments, thinking of what things he
could ask, then suddenly said, with great respect: "My Lord Jesus,
Madam St. Mary, and you, Master St. Joseph, will you please to enter
my dwelling? There I can tell you what boons I ask."
"We will," said St. Joseph.
"Mother," said Smetse to his wife, "come hither and look to the ass
of these noble lords."
And Smetse went in before them, sweeping the threshold so that there
should be no dust to touch the soles of their feet.
And he took them into his garden, where there was a fine plum-tree in
full blossom. "My Lord, Madam, and Sir," said Smetse, "will it please
you to order that whosoever shall climb up into this plum-tree shall
not be able to come down again unless I so desire?"
"It will," said St. Joseph.
Thence he led the way into the kitchen, where there stood a great and
precious arm-chair, well padded in the seat, and of enormous weight.
"My Lord, Madam, and Sir," said Smetse, "will it please you that
whosoever shall sit in this chair shall not be able to rise unless
I so desire?"
"It will," said St. Joseph.
Then Smetse fetched a sack, and, showing it to them, said: "My Lord,
Madam, and Sir, will it please you that, whatsoever his stature,
man or devil shall be able to get into this sack, but not out again,
unless I so desire?"
"It will," said St. Joseph.
"My Lord, Madam, and Sir," said Smetse, "thanks be unto you. Now that I
have made my three requests I have naught else to ask of your goodness,
save only your blessing."
"We will give it," said St. Joseph.
And he blessed Smetse, and thereafter the holy family went upon
their way.