The Legend of Ulenspiegel Volume I Part 35

Then men said to him:

"Baes, why do you wake us up in the middle of the night?"

"'Tis a custom of mine," replied the baes, "not to allow my workmen to stay more than half the night in a bed for the first seven days."

The following night he awaked his men at midnight again. Ulenspiegel, who slept in the garret, took his bed on his back and thus laden came down into the forge.

The baes said to him:

"Are you mad? Why do you not leave your bed in its place?"

"'Tis a custom I have," answered Ulenspiegel, "to spend for the first seven days half the night on top of my bed and the other half under it."

"Well, for me, it is a second custom I have to throw into the street my impudent workmen with leave to pa.s.s the first week above the pavement and the second below it."

"In your cellar, baes, if you please, beside the casks of bruinbier,"

replied Ulenspiegel.

LXIV

Having left the wheelwright and gone back to Flanders, he must hire himself as apprentice to a shoemaker who liked better to stay in the streets than to wield the awl in his workshop. Ulenspiegel, seeing him for the hundredth time ready to go abroad, asked him how he must cut the leather for vamps.

"Cut it," replied the baes, "for big feet and average feet, so that all that lead big cattle and little cattle may get into them handily."

"So shall it be, baes," answered Ulenspiegel.

When the shoemaker had gone out, Ulenspiegel cut out vamps only good to make shoes for fillies, a.s.ses, heifers, sows, and ewes.

Coming back to his workshop, the baes, seeing his leather in pieces:

"What have you done there, good-for-nothing botcher?" said he.

"What you bade me," Ulenspiegel made answer.

"I bade you," replied the baes, "cut me shoes in which might be put handily everything that leads oxen, swine, and sheep, and you make me shoes for the feet of the beasts."

Ulenspiegel replied:

"Baes, what leads the boar but the sow, the donkey but the a.s.s, the bull but the heifer, the ram but the ewe, in the season when all the beasts are in love?"

Then he went away, and must needs remain outside.

LXV

At this time 'twas April, the air had been soft and sweet, then it froze hard and the sky was gray as on All Souls' Day. The third year of Ulenspiegel's banishment had long since run out and Nele awaited her friend from day to day. "Alas!" said she, "it will snow on the pear trees, on the flowering jasmine, on all the poor plants unfolded confidingly in the genial warmth of an untimely springtide. Already the little flakes are falling from the sky upon the roadways. And it snoweth, too, upon my poor heart.

"Where are the bright rays playing on bright faces, on the roofs they made still redder than their wont, on the window panes they caused to flame? Where are they, warming earth and sky, bird and insect? Alas! now night and day I am chilled to the bone with sadness and my long waiting. Where art thou, Ulenspiegel, my dear?"

LXVI

Ulenspiegel, drawing near Renaix in Flanders, was hungry and thirsty, but he would by no means complain, and endeavoured to make folk laugh so they might give him bread. But he laughed not over well, and they pa.s.sed him by and gave him nothing.

It was cold: turn and turn about it snowed, rained, and hailed on the back of the wanderer. If he pa.s.sed through the villages, the water came in his mouth only to see a dog gnawing a bone in the angle of a wall. Fain and fain would he have earned a florin, but had no idea how the florin could fall into his pouch.

Looking up, he saw the pigeons that from the roof of the dove cote dropped white pieces on the highway, but they were not florins. He searched on the ground along the causeways, but florins do not bloom among the paving stones.

Looking to the right hand he saw a rascal cloud that moved onward into the sky, like a great watering pot, but he knew that if aught were to fall from this cloud it would not be a plump of florins. Looking to the left hand he saw a great idle horse-chestnut tree, living and doing nothing: "Ah!" he said to himself, "why are there no florin trees? They would be splendid trees, indeed!"

Suddenly the big cloud burst asunder, and the hailstones fell thick like pebbles on Ulenspiegel's back. "Alas," said he, "I feel it sure enough, stones are never thrown but at wandering dogs." Then starting to run: "It is not my fault," said he to himself, "if I have not a palace nor even a tent to shelter my poor thin body. Ah! the cruel hailstones: they are hard as cannon shot. No, it is not my fault if I trail my wretched tatters about the world, it is only that such was my good pleasure. Why am I not emperor? These hailstones would fain force themselves into my ears like ill words." And he was still running:--"Poor nose," he added, "you will soon be pierced through and through like fretwork, and mayst serve as a pepperpot at the feasts of the great folk of this world on whom it never hails." Then wiping his cheeks:--"These," said he, "would do well for ladles for cooks that are too hot at their ovens. Ah! far-off memory of the sauces of long ago. I am hungry. Empty belly, complain not; sad entrails, grumble no more. Where dost thou hide, propitious fortune? take me to the place where the pasture is."

While he talked thus with himself, the sky cleared and grew bright with a strong sun, the hail ceased, and Ulenspiegel said: "Good morrow, sun, my one friend, that comest to dry me!"

But he still kept on running, being cold. Suddenly from afar he saw coming along the road a black-and-white dog running straight before him, tongue hanging out and the eyes bolting from his head.

"This brute," said Ulenspiegel, "has the madness in his belly!" He hastily picked up a big stone and climbed upon a tree; as he reached the first bough, the dog pa.s.sed and Ulenspiegel launched the stone upon his skull. The dog stopped, and wretchedly and stiffly tried to get up the tree and bite Ulenspiegel, but he could not, and fell back to die.

Ulenspiegel was nowise glad at this, and still less when, coming down from the tree, he perceived that the dog's mouth was not dry and parched as is usual when these animals are smitten with the hydrophobia. Then studying his skin, he saw it was fine and good to sell, stripped him of it, washed it, hung it on his staff, let it dry a little in the sun, and then put it away in his satchel.

Hunger and thirst tormented him more and more, and he went into many farmhouses, not daring to offer his skin for sale, for fear that it might have belonged to one of the farmers' dogs. He asked for bread, and was refused it. Night came on. His limbs were weary, he went into a little inn. There he beheld an ancient baesine caressing a wheezy old dog whose skin was like a dead man's.

"Whence comest thou, traveller?" asked the aged baesine.

Ulenspiegel made answer:

"I come from Rome, where I healed the Pope's dog of a sorry rheum that grieved him sore."

"Then thou hast seen the Pope?" said she to him, drawing him a gla.s.s of beer.

"Alas!" said Ulenspiegel, emptying the gla.s.s, "I have but been permitted to kiss his holy foot and his holy slipper."

All this while the baesine's old dog was coughing, but without spitting.

"When didst thou do this?" asked the old woman.

"The month before the last," answered Ulenspiegel, "I arrived, being looked for, and knocked at the door. 'Who is there?' asked the chamberlain arch-cardinal, arch-privy, arch-extraordinary to His Most Holy Holiness.' ''Tis I,' I answered, 'Monseigneur Cardinal, come from Flanders expressly to kiss the Pope's foot and heal his dog of his rheum.' 'Ah! 'tis thou, Ulenspiegel?' said the Pope, speaking from the other side of a little door. 'I would rejoice to see thee, but that is a thing for the moment impossible. I am forbidden by the Holy Decretals to display my face to strangers when the holy razor is being pa.s.sed over it.' 'Alas!' said I, 'I am an unfortunate man, I that am come from a land so far to kiss Your Holiness his foot and cure his dog of the rheum. Must I indeed return without being satisfied?' 'Nay,'

said the Holy Father; and then I heard him call. 'Arch-chamberlain, roll my chair as far as the door, and open the little wicket at the foot of the door.' The which was done. And I beheld thrust through the wicket a foot shod with a golden slipper, and I heard a voice, speaking like a peal of thunder, saying: 'This is the redoubtable foot of the Prince of Princes, King of Kings, Emperor of Emperors. Kiss it, Christian man, kiss the holy slipper.' And I kissed the holy slipper, and my nose was sweetly filled with the celestial perfume that was exhaled from that foot. Then the wicket was shut again, and the same formidable voice bade me to wait. The wicket opened once more, and from it there issued, with all due respect, an animal bereft of its hair, blear-eyed, coughing, swollen like a wine skin and forced to walk with its legs straddling by reason of the hugeness of its belly.