IV

Some while after these happenings, when Nele had returned to her home

with Katheline, Lamme and Ulenspiegel came to Bruges. They were at

the place called Minne-Water, the Lake of Love--though the learned

folk would have it to be derived from Minre-Water, that is, the Water

belonging to the order of monks who are called Minims. Be this as it

may, here on the bank of the lake, Lamme and Ulenspiegel sat themselves

down, watching those that passed in front of them under the trees. The

green branches hung over the pathway like a vault of foliage, and

below there sauntered both men and women, youths and maids, clasping

each other's hands, with flowers on their heads, walking so close

together and gazing so tenderly into each other's eyes that they

seemed to see nothing else in all the world save themselves alone.

As he watched them, the thoughts of Ulenspiegel were far away with

Nele, and his thoughts were sad thoughts. Yet his words were of

another colour, bidding Lamme come off with him to the tavern for

a drink. But Lamme paid no attention to what Tyl was saying, for he

himself was absorbed no less by the sight of those loving pairs.

"In the old days," he said, "we too, my wife and I, were wont to go

a-courting, while others, just as we are now, would watch us, alone

and companionless by the lake-side."

"Come and have a drink!" said Ulenspiegel, "Belike we will find the

Seven at the bottom of a pint of beer."

"That's but a drunkard's notion," answered Lamme, "for you know

quite well that the Seven are giants, and taller than the roof of

the Church of St. Sauver itself!"

The thoughts of Ulenspiegel were still with Nele, but none the less

did he hope to find, perchance, good quarters in some inn, a good

supper, and a comely hostess into the bargain. Again, therefore, did

he urge his companion to come along with him and drink. But Lamme

would not listen to him, gazing sadly at the tower of Notre Dame,

and addressing himself in prayer to Our Lady somewhat in this wise:

"O Blessed Lady, patroness of all lawful unions, suffer me, I pray,

to see yet once again the white neck, the soft and tender neck,

of my love!"

"Come and drink!" cried Ulenspiegel. "Belike you will find her

displaying these charms of hers to the drinkers in the tavern."

"How dare you harbour such a thought!" cried Lamme.

"Come and drink!" repeated Ulenspiegel. "Your wife has turned innkeeper

without a doubt."

And thus conversing, they repaired to the Marche du Samedi, and entered

into the Blauwe Lanteern--at the sign of the Blue Lantern. And there

they found a right jolly-looking innkeeper.

The donkey meanwhile was unharnessed from the cart, and was put up

in the stables and provided with a good feed of oats. Our travellers

themselves ordered supper, and when they had eaten their fill, they

went to bed and slept soundly till morning, only to wake up and eat

again. And Lamme, who was wellnigh bursting with all that he had

eaten, said that he could hear in his stomach a sound like the music

of the spheres.

Now when the time came to pay the bill, mine host came to Lamme and

told him that the total amounted to six patards.

"He has the money," said Lamme, pointing to Ulenspiegel.

"No such thing," said Ulenspiegel.

"What about that half-florin?" said Lamme.

"I haven't got it," said Ulenspiegel.

"Here's a nice way of going on!" cried the innkeeper. "I shall strip

your doublet and shirt from the two of you!"

Suddenly Lamme took courage of all he had been drinking:

"And if I choose to eat and to drink," he cried, "yea, to eat and

to drink the worth of twenty-seven florins, and more, do you think

I shall not do so? Do you think that this belly of mine is not the

equal of a penny? God's life! Up to now I have fed on ortolans. But

you, never have you carried anything of that sort under your belt of

greasy hide. For you, you bad man, must needs carry your suet in the

collar of your doublet, far otherwise than I that bear three inches

at least of delicate fat on this good belly of mine."

At this the innkeeper fell into a passion of rage, and though he was a

stammerer he began to talk at a great rate, and the greater his haste

the more he stammered and spluttered like a dog that has just come

out of the water. Ulenspiegel began to throw pellets of bread at him,

and Lamme, growing more and more excited, continued his harangue in

the following strain:

"And now, what do you say? For here have I enough, and more than

enough, to pay you for those three lean chickens forsooth, and those

four mangy poulets, to say nothing of that big simpleton of a peacock

that parades his paltry tail in the stable yard. And if your very

skin was not more dry than that of an ancient cock, if your bones even

now were not falling to very dust within your breast, still should I

have the wherewithal to eat you up, you and your slobbering servant

there--your one-eyed serving-maid and your cook, whose arms are not

long enough to scratch himself though he had the itch! And do you see,"

he continued, "do you see this fine bird of yours that for the sake of

half a florin would have deprived us of our doublet and our shirt? Say,

what is your own wardrobe worth, preposterous chatterbox that you are;

and I will give you three liards in exchange for the lot!"

But the innkeeper, who by this time was beside himself with rage,

stammered and spluttered more and more, while Ulenspiegel went on

throwing pellets of bread in his face, till Lamme at last cried out

again in a voice brave as a lion's:

"What's the value, think you, skinny-face, of a fine donkey with

a splendid nose, long ears, large chest, and legs as strong as

iron? Twenty-eight florins at the least, is it not so, most seedy of

innkeepers? And how many old nails have you, pray, locked fast away

in your coffer, with which to pay the price of so fine an animal?"

More than ever did the innkeeper puff and blow, yet dared not budge

an inch from where he stood. And Lamme said again:

"And what is the value, think you, of a fine cart of ash-wood, finely

painted in crimson, and furnished with a hood of Courtrai cloth for

protection from sun and rain? Twenty-four florins at the least, is

it not so? And how much is twenty-four florins added to twenty-eight

florins? Answer that, you miser that cannot even count! And now,

since it is market day, and since your paltry tavern happens to be

full of peasants that are come to market, behold I will put up my

cart to auction and my donkey too, and I will sell them here, now,

and at once!"

Which, in very truth, he did. For all they that were there knew very

well who Lamme was. And he actually realized from the sale of his

donkey and cart as much as forty-four florins and ten patards. And

he jingled the money under the innkeeper's nose, and said to him:

"Scent you not the savour of festivities to be?"

"Yea," answered mine host. But under his breath he swore that

if ever Lamme came to him and offered to sell him his very skin,

he would buy it for a liard and make of it an amulet for a charm

against extravagance.

Meanwhile there was a sweet and gentle-looking young woman that

stood in the yard without, and she came up oftentimes to the window

and looked at Lamme, but withdrew her pretty face each time that he

might have seen her. And the same evening, when Lamme was going up to

bed, stumbling about on the staircase without any light (for he had

been drinking not wisely), he was aware of a woman that put her arms

round him, and greedily kissed his cheek and mouth and his nose even,

and moistened his face with amorous tears, and then left him.

But Lamme, who was thoroughly drowsed by all that he had been drinking,

lay down straightway and went to sleep; and on the morrow he departed

to Ghent together with Ulenspiegel. There he went seeking his wife

in all the cabarets and taverns of the town. But at nightfall he

rejoined Ulenspiegel at the sign of the Singing Swan.

V

Now King Philip was obstinate as a mule, and he thought that his

own will ought to dominate the entire world as if it had been the

will of God himself. And his will was this: that our country, little

accustomed as it was to obedience, should now curb itself under an

ancient yoke without obtaining any reforms at all. And the be-all

and the end-all of his desire was the aggrandizement of that Holy

Mother of his, the Catholic Church, Apostolic and Roman, One, Entire,

Universal, changeless and unalterable, and this was his will for no

other reason at all than just the fact that it was his will. And in

this he was like some woman without sense, that tosses about all night

upon her bed as though it were a bed of thorns, endlessly tortured

by her own imaginings.

"Yes," he would say, "O most Holy Saint Philip, and you, O my Lord

God, if only I could turn the Low Countries into a common grave, and

cast therein all the inhabitants of that country, then surely they

would return to Thee, my most blessed Patron, and to Thee, my Lady

Virgin Mary, and to ye, my good masters, the saints and saintesses

of Paradise!"

And he really tried to do as he said; so that he was more Roman than

the Pope and more Catholic than the Councils!

And the people of Flanders and of the Low Countries began to grow

anxious again, and to think that they could discern in the distance

this crowned spider, working in the sombre house of the Escurial,

reaching out his long claws with their nippers open, and spreading

wide the web in which he might enwrap them all and suck them white

of their blood.

Ulenspiegel, for his part, went spreading the alarm wherever he could,

and stirring up the people against the ravishers of his country and

the murderers of his parents.

One day, therefore, when he was in the Marche du Vendredi, near by

the Dulle-Griet--the Great Canon--Ulenspiegel lay flat down on his

stomach in the middle of the road. A charcoal-burner who happened to

be passing came up and asked him what he was doing there.

"I am giving my nose a wetting," Ulenspiegel told him, "so that I

may discover where this great wind is coming from."

Next a carpenter came along.

"Do you take the pavement for a mattress?" he asked.

"Before long," said Ulenspiegel, "there are some that will be taking

it for a counterpane."

A monk came up and stopped by his side.

"What does this booby here?"

"He entreats your blessing, lying flat at your feet," said

Ulenspiegel. The monk gave his blessing and went away. But Ulenspiegel

continued where he was with his head pressed to the earth, till at

last a peasant came along and asked him what he was listening for. "Do

you hear some noise or other?" he said.

"Yes," replied Ulenspiegel. "I hear the wood beginning to grow,

that wood whence many a faggot shall be made for the burning of

poor heretics."

"Do you hear aught else?" inquired a sergeant of the commune.

"Yes," said Ulenspiegel, "I hear the men-at-arms that are on their way

from Spain. If you have anything you wish to save, bury it now, for

in a little while our cities will not be safe from thieves any more."

"The man is mad," said the sergeant.

And the people of the town thought so too.