By sea, by river, in fair weather and foul, through snows of winter
and summer's heat, the ships of the Beggarmen sailed before the
breeze. Full-bellied was their canvas and white as the down of
swans--white swans of Liberty.
But to the King of Blood came the news of their conquests, and
death was already at work upon his vitals, and his body was full of
worms. And he dragged himself along the corridors of his palace at
Valladolid, and he never laughed--not even at daybreak, what time
the Sun rose to irradiate all the lands of his empire as with the
very smile of God.
But Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and Nele sang out like birds, living from
day to day, having joy to hear of many a funeral pyre put out by the
brave Beggarmen. And Tyl sang five songs, all to the glory of the
land of Flanders and to the despite of her enemies.
And it came to pass that on a day, having taken the towns of Rammeken,
Gertruydenberg, and Alckmaer, the Beggarmen returned to Flushing. And
there in the harbour they beheld a little boat moored. And in the
boat was a pretty-looking woman with golden-brown hair, brown eyes,
fresh cheeks, rounded arms, and white hands. And all at once the
woman cried out:
"Lamme! Lamme!" And then again: "Ah, but you must not approach me! I
have taken a vow before God.... Yet I love you. Ah, my dear husband!"