During all the three and twenty days that followed, Katheline grew
paler and paler, and thin and all dried up as though devoured not
only by the madness that consumed her but by some interior fire
that was even deadlier still. No more did she cry out as of old:
"Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!" But she was
continually transported into a kind of ecstasy, in which she spake
to Nele many strange words.
"A wife I am," she said, "and a wife you also ought to be. My husband
is a handsome man. A hairy man is he, hot with love. But his knees and
his arms, they are cold!" And Soetkin looked at her sadly, wondering
what new kind of madness this might be. But Katheline continued:
"Three times three are nine, the sacred number. He whose eyes glitter
in the night like the eyes of a cat--he only it is that sees the
mystery."
One evening when Katheline was talking in this way, Soetkin made a
gesture of misgiving. But Katheline said:
"Under Saturn, four and three mean misfortune. But under Venus,
it is the marriage number. Cold arms! Cold knees! Heart of fire!"
Soetkin answered:
"It is wrong to talk in this way of these wicked pagan idols."
But Katheline only crossed herself and said:
"Blessed be the grey horseman. Nele must have a husband--a handsome
husband that carries a sword, a dusky husband with a shining face!"
"Yes," cried Ulenspiegel, "a very fricassee of a husband, for whom
I will make a sauce with my knife!"
Nele looked at her lover with eyes that were moist with pleasure to
see him so jealous.
"None of your husbands for me!" she said.
But Katheline made answer:
"When cometh he? He that is clad in grey, and booted and spurred?"
Soetkin bade them say a prayer to God for the poor afflicted one,
whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch
four quarts of dobbel kuyt what time she made ready some heete-koeken,
as pancakes are called in Flanders.
Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Saturday like
the Jews.
"Because the butter is ready," said Katheline.
So Ulenspiegel stood up and took in his hand the big pot of English
pewter that held just four quarts.
"Mother," he asked, "what shall I do?"
"Go," said Katheline.
Soetkin did not like to say anything more, for she was not mistress of
the house. So she told her son to go and do as Katheline had bidden
him. Ulenspiegel ran to the tavern and brought back with him the
four quarts of dobbel kuyt. And soon the kitchen reeked with the
good smell of pancakes, and every one felt hungry, even the poor
afflicted Katheline.
Ulenspiegel ate heartily, and drank heartily also, for Katheline
had given him a full tankard, saying, with a malicious look, that it
behoved him to drink more than the others seeing that he was the only
male and the head of the house. Afterwards she asked him to give them
a song.
But Ulenspiegel did not sing, and Nele was all tearful, seeing Soetkin
so pale, and as it were all sunken into herself. Katheline alone of
them all appeared to be happy.
When the meal was over Soetkin and Ulenspiegel went up into the loft
to bed. Katheline and Nele stayed behind, for they slept together in
the kitchen.
All was quiet until the second hour after midnight. Ulenspiegel had
already been asleep for a long time because of all the beer he had
been drinking. But Soetkin, as her custom was, lay on with eyes wide
open, praying Our Lady to send her sleep, but with no avail.
All of a sudden she heard the cry of a sea-eagle, and from the
kitchen came a like cry, in answer. Then, from far off in the country
somewhere, other cries resounded, always as it seemed in answer to
that cry in the kitchen just below.
Soetkin tried to think it was only the night-birds calling to
one another, and endeavoured to distract her attention from those
sounds. But presently she heard a neighing of horses and a noise as of
iron sabots beating along the high road. Then it was that she opened
the window of the loft and saw that in very fact there were a couple of
horses saddled just outside the cottage, pawing the ground and nibbling
the grass that grew by the side of the road. Thereafter she heard the
voice of a woman crying out in fear, and a man's voice threatening,
followed by the sound of blows, more cries, a door shutting with a
bang, and then steps running up the ladder in mortal fear:
All this time Ulenspiegel was snoring away in his bed, hearing nothing,
till the door of the loft opened and Nele came in, out of breath,
sobbing, and with scarcely anything on. As hastily as she could the
girl dragged against the door a table, some chairs, an old heating
stove, any bit of furniture that was to hand. With these she made a
rough-and-ready barricade. Meanwhile, outside, the last stars were
paling in the heavens and the cocks beginning to crow.
Ulenspiegel had turned over in his bed at the noise Nele was making,
but now he had gone to sleep again. Nele, meanwhile, had thrown
herself on to Soetkin's neck.
"Soetkin," she said, "I am afraid. Light the candle, do!"
Soetkin did so, and all the time Nele never left off moaning. By the
light of the candle Soetkin looked the girl up and down. Her shift
was torn at the shoulder and in front, and there were traces of
blood upon her neck and cheek, such as might be left by the scratch
of a finger-nail.
"Whence have you come? And what are these wounds?" Soetkin asked her.
Trembling and groaning all the time, the girl made answer:
"For mercy's sake, Soetkin, do not bring us to the stake!"
Ulenspiegel meanwhile had awakened from his sleep, and was blinking
his eyes in the sudden light of the candle. Soetkin said:
"Who is it down there?"
"Not so loud!" Nele whispered. "It is the husband Katheline desired
for me."
All at once Soetkin and Nele heard Katheline cry out in a loud voice,
and their legs gave way beneath them in their terror.
"He is beating her," said Nele, "he is beating her because of me!"
"Who is it in the house?" cried Ulenspiegel, jumping out of bed. And
then, rubbing his eyes, he went stalking up and down the room till
at last he found a heavy poker that stood in the corner. He took
hold of it, but Nele tried to dissuade him, telling him that there
was no one there. But he paid no attention, running to the door and
throwing to one side the chairs and tables and the stove that Nele
had piled up in front of it. All this time Katheline was crying out
from the kitchen, and Nele and Soetkin held Ulenspiegel--the one
by the waist, the other by the legs--and tried to prevent him from
descending the stairs. "Don't go down," they told him. "Don't go down,
Ulenspiegel. There are devils down there."
"Forsooth," says he, "Nele's devil-husband! Him verily will I join in
marriage to this long poker of mine! A marriage of iron and flesh! Let
me go!"
But they did not loose their hold, hanging on as they were to the
landing rail.
And all the time Ulenspiegel was trying to drag them down the
staircase, and they the more frightened as they came nearer to the
devils below. And they could avail naught against him, so that at last,
descending now by leaps and bounds like a snowball that falls from the
top of a mountain, he came into the kitchen. And there was Katheline,
all exhausted and pale in the light of dawn.
"Hanske," she was saying, "O Hanske, why must you leave me? Is it my
fault if Nele is naughty?"
Ulenspiegel did not take any notice of her, but straightway opened
the door of the shed, and finding no one there, rushed out into the
yard, and thence into the high road. Far away he descried two horses
galloping off and disappearing in the mist. He ran after them hoping
to overtake them, but he could not, for they went like a south wind
that scours the dry autumn leaves.
Ulenspiegel was angry with disappointment, and he came back into the
cottage grieving sore in his heart and muttering between his teeth:
"They have done their worst on her! They have done their worst!..."
And he looked on Nele with eyes that burned with an evil flame. But
Nele, all trembling, stood up before Katheline and the widow.
"No!" she cried. "No, Tyl, my lover! No!"
And as she spoke she looked him straight in the face, so sadly and so
frankly that Ulenspiegel saw clearly that what she said was true. Then
he spake again, and questioned her:
"But whence came those cries, and whither went those men? Why is your
shift all torn on the shoulder and the back? And why do you bear on
forehead and cheek these marks of a man's nails?"
"I will tell you," she said, "but be careful that you do not have
us burned at the stake for what I shall tell you. You must know that
Katheline--whom God save from Hell--hath had these three-and-twenty
days a devil for her lover. He is dressed all in black, he is booted
and spurred. His face gleams with a flame of fire like what one sees
in summer-time when it is hot, on the waves of the sea."
And Katheline whimpered: "Why, oh why, have you left me, Hanske,
my pet? Nele is naughty!"
But Nele went on with her story:
"The devil announces his approach in a voice that is like the crying of
a sea-eagle. Every Saturday my mother receives him in the kitchen. And
she says that his kisses are cold and that his body is like snow. One
time he brought her some florins, but he took from her all the other
money that she had."
All this time Soetkin kept on praying for Katheline, with clasped
hands. But Katheline spake joyfully:
"My body is mine no more. My mind is mine no more. O Hanske, my
pet, take me with you yet once again, I beg you, to the Witches'
Sabbath. Only Nele will never come. Nele is naughty, I tell you."
But Nele went on with her story:
"At dawn," she said, "the devil would go away, and the next day my
mother would relate to me a hundred strange things. But, Tyl dear, you
must not look at me with those cruel eyes.... Yesterday, for instance,
she told me that a splendid prince, clad in grey, Hilbert by name,
was anxious to take me in marriage, and that he was coming here
himself that I might see him. I told her that I wanted no husband,
handsome or plain. Nevertheless, by weight of her maternal authority
she persuaded me to stay up for him, for she certainly keeps all her
wits about her in whatever pertains to her amours. Well, we were half
undressed, ready to go to bed; and I had gone off to sleep sitting
on that chair. It seems that I did not wake up when they came in,
and the first thing I knew was that some one was embracing me and
kissing me on the neck. And then, by the bright light of the moon,
I beheld a face that shone like the crests of the waves of a July sea
when there is thunder in the air, and I heard a low voice speaking to
me and saying: 'I am your husband, Hilbert. Be mine! I will make thee
rich.' And from the face of him that spake these words there came an
odour like the odour of fish. Quickly I pushed that face away from
me, but the man tried to take me by force, and although I had the
strength of ten against him, he managed to tear my shift and scratch
my face, crying out the while that if only I would give myself to
him he would make me rich. 'Yes,' I answered, 'as rich as my mother,
whom you have deprived of her last liard!' At that he redoubled
his violence, but he could not do anything against me. And at last,
since he was more disgusting than a corpse, I scratched him in the
eye with my nails so sharply that he cried out with pain, and I was
able to make my escape and run up here to Soetkin."
And all this while Katheline kept on with her "Nele is naughty. And
why did you go away so soon, O Hanske, my pet?"
But Soetkin asked her where she had been while wicked men were
attempting the honour of her child.
"It is Nele that is naughty," Katheline replied. "As for me, I was
in company of my black master, when the devil in grey comes to us,
with his face all bloody. 'Come away,' he cries, 'come away, my boy,
this is an evil house; for the men, it seems, are of a mind to fight
with one to the death, and the women carry knives at the tips of
their fingers.' And there and then they ran off to their horses,
and disappeared in the mist. Ah, Nele, Nele! She is a naughty lass,
I tell you!"