Charles de Coster

“ Yet again did Lamme try to throw himself down, but an old Beggarman held him back, telling him that the ice was damp and that he would get his feet wet. And Lamme sat down on the deck weeping and crying ever:
“My wife! My wife! Let me go and find my wife!”
“You will see her again,” said Ulenspiegel. “She loves you, but she loves God more.”
“Mad devil-woman that she is!” cried Lamme. “If she loves God more than her husband, why does she show herself to me so sweet and so desirable? And if she loves me, why does she leave me?” ”

“ 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. ”

“ And now it was that Ulenspiegel and Nele discerned on the grass and in the air and in the sky, seven tablets of bronze all strangely luminous. And they were held there by seven flaming nails. And on the tablets was written:
From the dung-heap flowers arise,
Seven are wicked, but seven are good.
Hid in coal the diamond lies,
Bad teacher oft makes pupil wise;
Seven are bad, but seven are good.
And the giant walked on, followed by all the will-o’-the-wisps, who were whispering together like grasshoppers, and saying:
Look at him well—the Master of All,
Before him Cæsar himself must fall. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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? ”

“ 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?” ”

“ Will you do nothing to assuage the smarting pain of this scourge by which my back is lacerated till the blood flows?”
“Who is this madman?” cried the soldiers.
“My friends,” answered Ulenspiegel, “I am no madman but one that is repentant even to the point of starvation. For while my soul weeps for its sins, my stomach weeps for want of food. Good soldiers, and you, fair damosels, I see you well provided with ham and goose, with fat sausages and wine and beer and all manner of tartlets. Will you not give so much as a morsel to the wandering pilgrim?” ”

“ Claes looked at Ulenspiegel and said:
“My son, it was wrong of you to go running off along the high roads of the world like any ruffian. You must not do that any more, my boy. You must not leave her alone at home, my widow in her sorrow. For now it is your duty to protect her and take care of her—you, a man.”
“I will, father,” said Ulenspiegel.
“O my poor husband!” cried Soetkin embracing him again. “What crime can we have committed? Nay, we lived our life peaceably together, lowly and humbly, loving each other well—how well Thou, Lord, knowest! ”

“ See how they writhe—those arms and those legs which helped him to his murdering! See how it smokes, the body of this brute! Burning is the hair of him, all pallid like the hair [257] of a hyena, and burning is his pallid face. He pays! He pays!”
And the fishmonger died, howling like a wolf.
And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.
And once more did Lamme and Ulenspiegel ride away on their donkeys. And Nele stayed behind in sorrow with Katheline, who never stopped her ceaseless refrain:
“Put out the fire! My head is burning! Come back, come back to me, Hanske, my pet.” ”

“ And all kinds of abuse did it sing in its bird language, all directed against Ulenspiegel.
Then Claes said:
“O son of mine, take care that you never take away its liberty from either man or beast, for liberty is the greatest good in the world. Let every one be free, free to go out into the sun when it is cold, and into the shade when it is hot. And let God give judgment on His Sacred Majesty, he who, not content with denying freedom of belief to the people of Flanders, has now put all the noble city of Ghent into a cage of slavery.” ”

“ The Landgrave immediately gave instructions to one of his pages that Ulenspiegel’s donkey should be treated even as his own.
The hour for supper soon arrived, and the meal was like a wedding festival. Hot meats smoked in the dishes, wine flowed like water, while Ulenspiegel and the Landgrave grew both as red as burning coals. Ulenspiegel also became very merry, but His Highness was somewhat pensive even in his cups.
“Our painter,” said he suddenly, “will have to paint our portrait. For it is a great satisfaction to a mortal prince to bequeath to his descendants the memory of his countenance.” ”

“ And again Ulenspiegel lifted up his voice and sang:
O Duke! Hark to the voice of the People,
Murmuring so strong in the distance,
Like the sea that swells in the season of tempest!
Enough of silver and gold and of blood,
Of ruins enough! Beat the drum! Beat the drum!
The sword is drawn.
Duke! Duke of Alba, Duke of Blood,
Behold the stalls and the shops, they are closed.
Brewers and bakers, grocers and butchers,
Refuse one and all to do business for nothing. ”

“ And I’ll draw a draught of wine,
When Nele smiles again.
“You villainous man!” she cried, “making fun of me again!”
“Nele,” said Ulenspiegel, “it is true that I am a man. But I am not a villain. For our family is of noble origin, a family of aldermen, and it carries on its shield three pint pots argent on a ground bruinbier. But, Nele, tell me now, is it a fact that in Flanders when a man sows a kiss he always reaps a box on the ear?” ”

“ And there this night the will-o’-the-wisps are dancing. For this is the night when the souls of poor men killed in battle leave their bodies all [294] cold in purgatory, and come to warm themselves once again in the tepid air of earth. This is the hour when you may ask anything you will of Christ, He who is Lord of all good wizards.”
“The ashes beat upon my heart,” said Ulenspiegel. “Would that He would show me those Seven whose ashes, they say, when thrown to the winds, would make Flanders happy again, and all the world!”
“O man without faith,” said Nele. ”

“ At last, one evening, he went to find Katheline, thinking to inquire of her some way of remedy or revenge.
She was alone with Nele, sewing by the light of the lamp. At the sound which Ulenspiegel made as he came in, Katheline raised her head slowly like one that is awakened from a heavy sleep.
He said: “The ashes of Claes beat upon my breast, and I am fain to do somewhat to save this land of Flanders. But what can I do? I have entreated the great God of earth and heaven, but he has answered me nothing.”
Katheline said: “The great God cannot hear you. ”

“ And all around them danced the will-o’-the-wisps most joyously. And thereafter did Ulenspiegel and Nele begin to hear a thousand voices as of hidden men and women, that spake with a sonorous, clicking sound, like that of castanets, and thus sang they:
When over the earth and over the sea
These Seven transformed shall reign,
Mortals lift up your heads again,
For happy the world shall be!
And Ulenspiegel said: “These spirits are making mock of us.” ”

“ Ulenspiegel and Lamme had come to Heyst-on-the-Dunes, and behold a fleet of fishing-boats that were come hither from Ostend and from Blankenberghe and Knokke. Filled they were with men-at-arms, the followers of the Beggarmen of Zeeland, who carried on their hats a silver crescent with this inscription: “Serve rather the Turk than the Pope.”
Ulenspiegel is glad; he whistles like the lark and from every side there comes to answer him the warlike cockcrow. ”

“ Then Ulenspiegel looked about him once more. The two peasants had run off like the curé, and that they might run the faster they had thrown to the ground both shovel and parasol. As for the burgomaster and the aldermen, they lay groaning on the grass, stopping up their ears in their fright.
Ulenspiegel went to them and gave them a good shaking.
“Think you that they can be buried in the ground,” he asked them, “Ulenspiegel and Nele? Nele that is the heart of our Mother Flanders, and Ulenspiegel that is her soul? She can sleep too, forsooth, but die—never! Come, Nele.” ”

“ 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!” ”

“ Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together:
“He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!”
The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob.
“Kill him!” they shouted. “Put him out of his misery!” And they began to throw missiles at the provost.
Soetkin cried aloud: “The flame! The great flame!” ”

“ La Sanginne put three black puddings on the table, a pint of ale, and a large loaf of bread. Ulenspiegel set to with a will, and Lamme began to nibble at one of the puddings.
“Know you,” Lamme asked presently, “where it is that our souls abide?”
“No, Lamme,” said Ulenspiegel.
“In our stomachs,” Lamme told him, “so they can keep them excavated continually, and for ever renew in our bodies the impulse for life. And who are the best companions for a man? I’ll tell you. The best companions for a man are all good and jolly things to eat, and wine from the Meuse to crown all!” ”

“ One day as they were returning from the market at Brussels, they passed a stone house on the Quai aux Briques, and there, in a room on the ground floor, they beheld a beautiful dame dressed all in satin. She had a high complexion, a lively look in her eyes, and her neck was most fair to behold. By her side was a young, fresh-looking cook, to whom she was addressing words like these:
“Clean me this saucepan, will you! No rusty sauce for me!”
“As for me,” cried Ulenspiegel, poking in his nose at the window, “any kind of soup is good enough! For a hungry man cannot afford to be particular.” ”

“ The roitelets, those heralds of bad weather, were flying around the houses seeking asile from the storm, and on the third day snow fell. Many times during the journey did Ulenspiegel have to show his safe-conduct. But they always let him pass, and so he came at length to the confines of Liége. He was plodding along over a level heath, and a fierce wind was driving the swirling snowflakes against his face, and in front and on every side the heath stretched out all white under the snow that fell in eddies, which themselves were whirled about hither and thither in the squalls of wind. ”

“ All my pockets have holes in them, and by the said apertures do all my fine ducats and florins and daelders ramble away, flying like a crowd of mice before the mouth of the cat that would devour them. I wonder why it is that money will have nothing to do with me—me that am so fond of money? Verily Fortune is no woman, whatever they may say, for she loves none but greedy misers that shut her up in their coffers, tie her up in sacks, close her down under twenty keys and never let her show herself at the window by so much as the little tip of her gilded nose! ”

“ And they are busy in the prison dungeons and within those circles of faggots that flame around the victims, scorching them little by little to death; or in the huts of straw where they fall suffocated in the fire and the smoke. And the King takes all for his own. And this, forsooth, by the will of the Pope of Rome. The very cities teem with spies that await their share of the plunder. The richer one is the more likely one is to be found guilty. And the King takes all for his own.
“But never shall the valiant men of Flanders suffer themselves to be butchered thus like lambs. ”

“ Lamme put in, “pray tell us why, my Lord!”
But Brederode made no answer, and only looked very hard at Ulenspiegel, who thereupon continued his discourse in this wise.
“And why, pray, do you, you other noble Lords, seek to be faithful to the King even unto beggary? Is it for the great good that he wishes you? Or for the fair friendship that he bears you? How is it that instead of being faithful to the King even unto beggary you do not so act rather that the brute himself may be despoiled of his country, and thus be made faithful for ever to beggary himself?” ”

“ Ulenspiegel began to flick at the wisp with his free hand, saying:
“Answer me now, are you the soul of a Beggarman or of a Spaniard? If you are a Beggarman’s you may go to Paradise, but if a Spaniard’s, return to the hell whence you came.”
Nele said to him:
“Do not abuse the souls of the dead, even though they be the souls of murderers!”
Then, making the little will-o’-the-wisp to dance at the end of her finger:
“Wisp,” she said, “gentle wisp, come tell me what news do you bring from the land of souls? What rule do they live by down there? Do they eat and drink, having no mouths? ”

“ Then spake the wisps:
“Fire. We are Fire—the avenger of all old tears and all old pains which the people have suffered; the avenger of all the human game that has been hunted for pleasure by the Lords of this land; the avenger of all battles fought to no purpose, of all the blood that has been spilt in prison, of all the men burned at the stake and the women and girls buried alive; the avenger of all the past of blood and chains. The Fire—that is Us—we are the souls of the dead.” ”

“ At this Lamme fell into a rage, crying:
“You are no Christian to make mock of my infirmity. My fat is my own, let me tell you, and is the result of the good food I eat, whereas you, old bag of bones that you are, you have never lived upon aught better than smoked herrings and old candle-wicks if one may judge anything from the lean flesh that shows through the tears in your measly hose.”
“Ee—aw! Ee—aw!” cried the boatman, and Lamme would have got down from his donkey to collect stones to throw at him had not Ulenspiegel said him nay. ”

“ And where are you, dried leaves of autumns past? Now quick there! Bring me a leg of mutton with broad beans. And for me, some pig’s ears grilled with bread-crumbs. And for me, a chaplet of ortolans. Verily the snipe shall figure the Paters, and a fat capon the Credo.”
Mine host answered quietly:
“I will bring you an omelette made with sixty eggs. And as sign-posts to guide your spoons, I will plant fifty black puddings in the midst, all smoking on a veritable mountain of good cheer; and from the top of all some dobbel peterman shall flow down like a river on every side.” ”

“ On returning to the church he stood up in the porch, holding the candle most reverently in his hand, and then in a high, clear voice (yet not without sundry waggish grimaces) spake as follows:
“If the prayers of all good Christians are very comforting to the souls in purgatory, how much more so must be those of the Dean of Notre Dame, a holy man and perfect in the performance of every virtue. Verily, his prayers assuage the flames of fire in such wise that they are transformed all of a sudden into ice. But yet be sure that not an atom of it goes to refresh the devils that are in hell.” ”