XV

William the Silent, with his army, was at the gates of Liege. But

before crossing the Meuse he made sundry marches and counter-marches,

leading the Duke astray, for all his vigilance.

Ulenspiegel applied himself most diligently to his duties as a

soldier, worked his arquebus most skilfully, and kept his eyes and

ears wide open.

Now at that time there arrived in the camp certain gentlemen of

Flanders and Brabant, and these lived in friendly fashion with the

colonels and captains of the Prince's following.

But soon there came into being two parties in the camp, who began

to dispute one with the other continually, some saying that William

was a traitor, others that such accusation was a gross libel on the

Prince, and that they who had made it should be forced to eat their

words. Suspicion grew and grew like a spot of oil, and at length they

came to blows--small companies of six, eight, or a dozen men fighting

together in single combat, with all kinds of weapons and sometimes

with arquebuses even.

One day the Prince, hearing the noise, came to see what was going on,

and walked straight in between the combatants. It chanced that a piece

of shot hit his sword and struck it from his side. He stopped the

combat, and visited the whole camp, intending to put an end once for

all to these combats and to these cries of "Death to William!" "Death

to the war!"

Now the day after this adventure, Ulenspiegel had been to the house of

a Walloon maiden to sing to her some Flemish love-songs of his. And

it was near midnight, and very misty, and Ulenspiegel, being just

about to leave the house, thought he heard the cawing of a crow,

three times repeated. And the sound came from the door of a cottage

close by. And from far off came other cawings, three times repeated,

as if in answer. Presently a peasant made his appearance at the doorway

of the cottage, and at the same time Ulenspiegel heard steps on the

road. Two men came up to the peasant and began to talk to him in the

Spanish tongue. The peasant spoke to them, also in Spanish:

"Well? And how goes it?" asked the cottager.

"Well, indeed," the two men answered. "We have been spreading rumours

on behalf of the King, and it is thanks to us that the captains and

their soldiers are everywhere suspicious and talking among themselves

in this wise:

"'The Prince, so the gossip goes--is resisting the King for vile

ambition and for nothing else. For by this means he thinks to make

himself feared so that he may acquire cities and overlordships as the

price of peace. For five hundred thousand florins he would leave in

the lurch all the brave nobles who have come out to fight for their

country. And it is a fact that the Duke has offered him a complete

amnesty, and has promised to restore both him and his chief officers

in their possessions, if only the Prince will return to the obedience

of the King, and will negotiate with him alone.'

"But they that remain faithful to the Prince make answer to us in

this wise:

"'By no means will William have aught to do with the proposals of

the Duke. For these are but snares and treachery. For the Prince must

surely call to mind what happened to d'Egmont and de Hoorn. And it is

well known that the Cardinal de Granville said at Rome, when the two

Counts had been taken: "The two gudgeon, verily, have been caught,

but the pike has been allowed to escape." For nothing has been taken

while William still remains at large.'"

"Is the camp divided in twain then?" asked the peasant.

"It is," replied the two men, "and the division grows greater every

day. But whom are those letters for?"

Whereupon they all entered into the cottage. A lantern was lit inside,

and looking through a crack in the door Ulenspiegel could see them

unsealing two letters. These they read with every appearance of

enjoyment, and then they all fell to drinking honey-wine. After

which the two men came out of the cottage and said to the peasant,

still speaking in Spanish:

"The camp split in two, and the Prince captured--that will be worth

a dozen glasses, eh?"

"Those men," said Ulenspiegel to himself, "cannot longer be allowed

to live."

But even now they were disappearing in the thick mist, with the

lantern which the peasant had brought for them. The light of the

lantern shone out intermittently, as if continually intercepted by

some dark body. From this Ulenspiegel concluded that the two men must

be walking one behind the other.

He raised his arquebus to his shoulder and fired. Then he saw the

lantern raised and lowered several times, as if the man who carried

it was looking at his fallen comrade, trying to discover where he

had been hit and the nature of the wound.

Yet again did Ulenspiegel raise his arquebus, and then when the lantern

began to steady itself and to retreat speedily towards the camp, he

fired again. Now the lantern swayed, fell to the ground and went out,

leaving all in darkness.

Ulenspiegel ran on to the camp, and there he soon encountered the

provost with a number of soldiers who had been awakened by the noise of

the firing. Ulenspiegel accosted them, saying: "I am the huntsman. Go

you now and find the game."

"Brave Fleming," said the provost, "methinks you are a man that knows

other ways of talking besides with your tongue."

"Words of the tongue they are but so much wind," answered

Ulenspiegel. "But words of lead--they know how to find for themselves a

lasting habitation in the carcass of a traitor! Come then, follow me."

And so saying he led them to the place where the two men had

fallen. And in very deed the soldiers saw by the light of their

lanterns two bodies stretched out on the ground. One was dead, and

the other at the last gasp, holding his hand to his heart, and in

his hand a letter all crumpled in the agony of death. The soldiers

lifted the two bodies, whose clothes clearly showed them to be the

bodies of gentlemen, and straightway carried them, still by the light

of their lanterns, to the Prince.

Now William was about to hold a council with Frederick of Hollenhausen,

the Margrave of Hesse, and other nobles. But the soldiers, who had

now been joined by a company of other troopers in green and yellow

jackets, stood before the tent, demanding with shouts and cries that

the Prince should give them audience.

At length William of Orange came out to them, and the provost began

to clear his throat and make other preliminaries for the accusation

of Ulenspiegel. But the latter cut in before him, saying:

"My Lord, I had thought to kill two crows, but I have killed two

traitors in their stead--two noblemen--belonging to your suite."

Then he told the story of all that he had seen and heard and

done. William did not utter a word, but the two bodies were carefully

examined in the presence of Ulenspiegel himself and William the

Silent, together with Frederick of Hollenhausen, the Margrave of

Hesse, Dietrich of Schoonenbergh, Count Albert of Nassau, the Count

de Hoogstraeten, and Antoine de Lailang, Governor of Malines. And

the soldiers stood by, with Lamme Goedzak, his great belly all of a

tremble. Sealed letters were found on the persons of the deceased

gentlemen, which had been sent by Granvelles and Noircames, and

engaged the recipients to sow division in the Prince's entourage,

and by that means to diminish his power and to compel him to yield,

so that he might ultimately be delivered up to the Duke and beheaded

according to his deserts. "The right procedure is," continued the

letter, "to act at first with caution and to use allusive phrases only,

so that the army may be led to think that the Prince has already come

to a secret understanding with the Duke, for his own advantage. This

will arouse the anger of his captains and soldiers, and they will

assuredly take him prisoner." Now as a reward for this service it

appeared that notes to the value of some five hundred ducats were

being sent them on the Fugger Bank at Antwerp, and they were promised

a thousand more as soon as the four hundred thousand ducats which

were already on their way from Spain had arrived in Zeeland.

The whole plot having been now unmasked, the Prince turned in silence

towards the gentlemen, Lords, and soldiers who stood round him. Many

of these men he knew to be suspicious of him already, nevertheless,

he pointed at the two bodies without speaking a word, intending by

this gesture to reproach them for their mistrust. And at this every

one present there exclaimed and shouted aloud:

"Long live the Prince of Orange! The Prince is faithful and true!" And

such was their anger that they were desirous to throw the two dead

bodies to the dogs; but William forbade them, saying:

"It is not these two poor corpses that deserve to be thrown to the

dogs so much as that littleness of mind which must needs be suspicious

of the purest intentions."

And the Lords and soldiers cried out again:

"Long live the Prince! Long live the Prince of Orange, the friend of

our country!"

And the sound of their voices was like the noise of thunder threatening

injustice. And the Prince pointed to the two corpses and ordered that

they should be given Christian burial.

"And I," demanded Ulenspiegel, "what shall be done to me, faithful

and true? If I have done evil let me be beaten, but if good--why then

let me be suitably rewarded!"

Then the Prince addressed him, saying:

"This soldier is to receive fifty strokes from the green wood in

my presence for having killed two gentlemen without orders, to the

contempt of all discipline. At the same time let him receive a reward

of thirty florins for having used his eyes and ears to some purpose."

"My Lord," answered Ulenspiegel, "give me the thirty florins first,

and I shall then be able to support my beating with equanimity."

"Yes, yes," murmured Lamme Goedzak, "give him the thirty florins first,

and then he will bear the rest with equanimity."

"One thing more," said Ulenspiegel, "since my soul is admittedly free

from fault, is there any real reason why I must be cleansed with the

wood of the oak or washed with the branch of the cherry-tree?"

"No," murmured Lamme again, "Ulenspiegel surely has no need to be

washed or cleansed. For his soul is without stain. Do not wash it,

my masters, do not wash it."

But when Ulenspiegel had received the thirty florins the provost

ordered him to give himself up to the Stock-meester.

"Behold, my Lords," said Lamme, "behold how piteous he looks. There's

no love lost between the hard wood and him--my beloved Ulenspiegel."

But Ulenspiegel answered:

"Of a truth I love a fine ash-tree in full leaf, growing up towards

the sun in all its native verdure, but I agree I loathe like poison

these heavy cudgels of wood with their sap still oozing out of them,

stripped of their branches and without any leaves or twigs growing

thereon, for they are rough to look upon and hard to feel."

"Are you ready?" demanded the provost.

"Ready?" Ulenspiegel repeated. "Ready for what? Ready to be

flogged do you mean? No, I cannot, nor will I, be flogged by you,

Mr. Stock-meester. You have a red beard certainly, and your appearance

is formidable. Nevertheless, I am sure that you have a kind heart

and would have no desire to thrash a poor fellow like me. And now

to tell you the truth I should be loath to do such a thing myself,

much less to see any one else do it. For the back of a Christian is

a sacred thing, as sacred as his breast which holds the lungs, those

trusty organs whereby we breathe the goodly air of God. And think how

bitter would be your remorse if a too brutal blow from your cudgel

should chance to break me in pieces!"

"Make haste," said the Stock-meester.

"My Lord," said Ulenspiegel, addressing himself to the Prince,

"believe me, there is no need for all this hurry. First of all the

wood of the cudgel ought to be allowed to dry. For I have heard that

wood while still green is like to communicate a mortal poison to any

flesh with which it comes in contact. Would your Highness desire to

see me die such an ugly death? My Lord, my back I hold most pitifully

at your service. Have it flogged, if you must, with rods and lashed

with whips. But unless you wish to see me dead, spare me, I pray you,

from the wood while it is still green."

"Have mercy on him, Prince," cried my Lords of Hoogstraeten and of

Schoonenbergh both together; while the others all began to smile

compassionately. Lamme also put in a word of his own, "Have mercy,

my Lord. Green wood is poison, neither more nor less than rank poison!"

The Prince said:

"Very well."

Thereupon Ulenspiegel leapt in the air again and again, and smote Lamme

on his belly and compelled him to dance too, saying: "Join me now in

praising the good Duke who has delivered me from the green wood."

And Lamme did his best to dance, but could not very well because of

his belly. And Ulenspiegel gave him to eat and to drink as much as

he was able.