Charles de Coster

“ Praet, on the contrary, with a wretched and pitiful mien, seemed for ever locked in with melancholy thoughts. And Ulenspiegel was astonished to hear by night, if by any chance he awoke, the noise of hammering.
However early he might rise, Simon Praet was up before him, and more pitiful his look, sadder still his eyes, gleaming like a man’s making ready for death or for battle.
Often Praet sighed, clasping his hands for prayer, and ever seemed filled with indignation. His fingers were black and greasy, and so, too, were his arms and his shirt. ”

“ What shall we say of those other homely personages who fill the scene—symbols no less of Flemish character at its finest and of the enduringly domestic springs of Flemish national life? Claes the trusty fatherhood, Soetkin the valiant motherhood of Flanders, Nele her true heart, Lamme Goedzak her great belly that hungers always for more and yet more good things to eat and is never satisfied? Or what, again, of the tragic Katheline, half witch, half martyr, and the centre of that dark intrigue which seems to throb like a shuttle through the mazy pattern of the plot, threading it all into unity? ”

“ Poor little man, my good comrade, dost know what there is in store for thee? Ho, a gulf as deep as the heavens are high, and studded all down its terrible sides with jutting points of rock, iron spikes, horrid spears, and a thousand dreadful pikes. And dost know what manner of gulf this is, my man? ’Tis a gulf wherein a man may keep falling always—dost understand me, always, always—gashed by the rocks, cut about by the spears, torn open by the pikes, always, always, down all the long length of eternity.”
“But, wife,” said Smetse, “hast ever seen this gulf whereof thou speakest?” ”

“ One day in the month of August, a hot and heavy day, Lamme was plunged in melancholy. His jolly drum was dumb and sleeping, and he had thrust the drumsticks into the mouth of his satchel. Ulenspiegel and Nele, smiling with amorous delight, were warming themselves in the sun: the look-out men stationed in the tops were whistling or singing, searching over the wide ocean if they could not see some prey on the horizon. ”

“ Claes, Ulenspiegel, and the donkey, astonished, saw thus passing before them an immense variety of bellies, broad, long, high, pointed, proud, firm, or falling ignobly upon their natural props. And all the pilgrims had casques on their heads.
Some of these casques had come from Troy, and were like Phrygian caps, or surmounted by aigrettes of red horsehair; some of the pilgrims, though they were fat-faced and paunchy, wore helms with outspread wings, but had no notion of flying; then came those who had on their heads salades that snails would have disdained for their lack of greenery. ”

“ Claes looked around for Soetkin or Ulenspiegel. But not seeing them anywhere in the crowd he felt happier and more at ease, thinking that they would not know how he suffered. And all the time there was a silence like death, except for the sound of Claes’ voice praying, and the crackling of the wood, the murmuring of men, the weeping of the women, the voice of Katheline as she cried: “Put out the fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!” and over all, the bells of Notre Dame tolling for the dead. ”

“ Sound the clarion of joy, beat upon the drum:
’Tis the hay month, fragrant are the meadows;
The lark mounts up, singing in the sky:
Long live the bird of freedom!
Beat upon the drum of glory.
Hurrah for Chaumont and the Spanish steed.
Hey there. Drink up there.
The town is won!... Long live the Beggar!”
And the Beggars sang on the ships: “Christ look down upon thy soldiers. Furbish our weapons, Lord. Long live the Beggar!”
And Nele, smiling, made the fife squeal amain, and Lamme beat the drum, and aloft, towards the sky, God’s temple, there were raised golden cups and hymns of liberty. ”

“ Ah, thou wilt have great joy when, walking with thy melancholy countenance about the streets of Ghent, thou art fled by every one and dogs snap at thy heels; when thy wife dies of hunger, and thou chantest mea culpa in vain; then when, alone in the world, thou beatest on thy shrunken belly the drum for a feast, and the little girls dancing to such music give thee a slap in the face for payment ”

“ Ulenspiegel, still in the pulpit, cried in vain:
“Signorkes and pagaders do not suffer pillage! Do not call down ruin upon the town!”
He was plucked away from there all torn, face, doublet, and breeches, though he avenged himself with both feet and hands. And all bleeding he never ceased to cry out:
“Do not suffer pillage!”
But it was in vain.
The unknown and the ragtag and bobtail of the city flung themselves on the iron grille of the choir, which they broke through, crying:
“Long live the Beggar!”
They all set to work to break, sack, destroy. ”

“ Yea verily, for the lightsome butterfly may flit to rest upon the crimson carnation, but I, clumsy bumpkin that I am, how can I rest myself without tarnishing the living whiteness that is you? God is in heaven, the king is on his throne, the sun rides triumphing in the sky, but am I a god, or a king, or the sun himself that I may come so close to you? O tresses softer than silk! O Nele, I fear to touch your hair, so clumsy am I, lest I tear it, lest I shred it all to pieces. ”

“ Long live the Beggar! Drums and fifes sound the signal for boarding; the merchants have guns, pikes, hatchets, arquebuses.
Musket balls and cannon balls rain from the ships of the Beggars. Their musketeers, entrenched round about the main mast in their wooden forts, fire with deadly aim, without any danger. The merchants fall like flies.
“To the rescue!” said Ulenspiegel to Lamme and to Nele, “to the rescue! Here be spices, knicknacks, precious dainties, sugar, nutmegs, cloves, ginger, reals, ducats, moutons d’or all bright and shining. There are more than five hundred thousand pieces in coin. ”

“ Look at this fine knight! What is he doing here? He has come to marry us, I suppose.—Who would have him, for four castles, as many manors, ten thousand peasants and half the gold in the province? None.—And that is a pity, for between them they would get fine children, if they were to be like their father!—Ho, what fine hair he has, the devil must have limned it with an old nail; what a fine nose, ’tis like a withered plum, and what fair blue eyes, so marvellously ringed round with red.—See, he is going to cry! ”

“ But Katheline shook her head, and said not a word.
“Dear me,” said Claes, “our mother is in the dumps it seems! What can it be that grieves her so?”
But Katheline spake as follows, in a voice that was like a breath of wind:
“The wicked night falls blackly. He tells of his coming from afar, screaming like the sea-eagle. I tremble, and pray to Our Lady—all in vain. For the Night knows neither walls nor hedges, neither doors nor windows. Everywhere, like a spirit, he finds a way in. The ladder creaks. The Night has entered into the loft where I am sleeping. ”

“ Dost thou go to mass? Art thou a good Christian? Where dost thou dwell? Wouldst thou dare to say that thou art a Beggar, a true blue Beggar resisting the proclamations and the Inquisition?”
The ashes of Claes beat upon Ulenspiegel’s breast.
“I am a Beggar,” said he, “I would fain see dead and eaten by worms the oppressors of the Low Countries. Thou lookest on me confounded and astonied. This fire of love that burns for thee, darling, is the fire of youth. God lighted it; it flames as the sun shines, until it dieth down. ”

“ One morning in March, since the wind, that was blowing sharp and cutting, ceased not to thicken the ice, and Très-Long’s ship could not leave, the sailors and the soldiers of the vessel were holding feasting and revel on sledges and on skates.
Ulenspiegel was at the inn, and the pretty woman said to him, all woeful and as if bereft of her wits:
“Poor Lamme! poor Ulenspiegel!”
“Why do you lament?” asked he.
“Alas! Alas!” said she, “why do ye not believe in the mass. Ye would go to paradise, without a doubt, and I could save you in this life.” ”

“ Katheline, may God preserve her from hell! has now for three and twenty days a devil for lover, clad in black, booted and spurred. His face shines with the fire seen in summertime upon the waves of the sea when it is hot.”
“Why art thou gone, Hanske, my darling?” said Katheline. “Nele is bad.”
But Nele, going on with her tale, said: “He cries like a sea eagle to announce his presence. My mother sees him in the kitchen every Saturday. She says that his kisses are cold and his body like snow. He beats her when she does not do all that he would have her do. ”

“ Katheline came to Claes in a great state of excitement.
“Whatever is the matter, my good woman?” he asked.
“Alas!” she cried, catching her breath, “behold! This night the ghosts are mowing men down like grass. Little girls are being buried alive. The executioner is dancing on the body of the dead. And broken, this night, is that Stone which has been sweating blood these nine months past and more!”
“Mercy on us!” groaned Soetkin. “Mercy on us, O Lord! This is a black omen indeed for the land of Flanders.”
“Do you see these things with your own eyes wide awake, or perchance in a dream?” ”