The Legend of Ulenspiegel Volume Ii Part 22

"To-night," said Wasteele; "but stay in the forge and do not be afraid of my workmen. They are of the Reformed faith like yourselves."

"That is well," said Lamme.

By night, the curfew having rung and the doors being shut, Wasteele, making Ulenspiegel and Lamme help him, going down and bringing up from his cellar heavy bundles of weapons:

"Here," he said, "are twenty arquebuses to mend, thirty lance heads to furbish, and lead for fifteen hundred bullets to melt down; you shall help me with it."

"With all my hands," said Ulenspiegel, "and why have I not four to serve you?"

"Lamme will help us," said Wasteele.

"Aye," replied Lamme, piteously, and falling with drowsiness through excess of drink and food.

"You shall melt the lead," said Ulenspiegel.

"I will melt the lead," said Lamme.

Lamme, melting his lead and running his bullets, kept looking with a savage eye at the smitte Wasteele who was driving him to keep awake when he was dropping with sleep. He ran his bullets with a wordless fury, having a great longing to pour the molten lead on the head of Wasteele the smith. But he controlled himself. Towards midnight, his rage getting the better of him at the same time as excess of fatigue, he addressed him thus in a hissing voice, while the smitte Wasteele with Ulenspiegel was patiently furbis.h.i.+ng musket barrels, muskets, and lance heads:

"There you are," said Lamme, "meager, pale, and wretched, believing in the good faith of princes and the great ones of the earth, and disdaining, in an excessive zeal, your body, your n.o.ble body that you are leaving to perish in misery and humiliation. It was not for this that G.o.d made it with Dame Nature. Do you know that our soul which is the breath of life, needs, that it may breathe, beans, beef, beer, wine, ham, sausages, chitterlings, and rest; you, you live on bread, water, and watching."

"Whence have you this talkative flow?" asked Ulenspiegel.

"He knows not what he says," answered Wasteele, sadly.

But Lamme growing angry:

"I know better than you. I say that we are mad, I, you, and Ulenspiegel, to wear out our eyes for all these princes and great ones of the earth, who would laugh loudly at us if they saw us dying of weariness, losing our sleep to furbish up arms and cast bullets for their service while they drink French wine and eat German capons from golden tankards and dishes of English pewter; they will never ask whether, while we are seeking in the open wild the G.o.d by whose grace they have their power, their enemies are cutting off our limbs with their scythes and casting us into the well of death. They, in the meanwhile, who are neither Reformed, nor Calvinists, nor Lutherans, nor Catholics, but sceptics and doubters entirely, will buy or conquer princ.i.p.alities, will devour the wealth of the monks, abbeys, and convents, and will have all: virgins, wives, women and bona robas, and will drink from their gold cups to their perpetual jollity, and to our everlasting foolishness, simplicity, stupidity, and to the seven deadly sins which they commit, O smitte Wasteele, under the starveling nose of thy enthusiasm. Look upon the fields, the meads, look on the harvest, the orchards, the kine, the gold rising out of the earth; look at the wild things in the woods, the birds of the skies, delicious ortolans, delicate thrushes, wild boars'

heads, haunches of buck venison; all is theirs, hunting, fis.h.i.+ng, earth, sea, everything. And you, you live on bread and water, and we are killing ourselves here for them, without sleep, without eating, and without drinking. And when we shall be dead they will fetch our carrion a kick and say to our mothers: 'Make us more of these; those ones can do us no service now.'"

Ulenspiegel laughed and said nothing. Lamme breathed hard with indignation, but Wasteele, speaking in a gentle voice:

"Thou speakest but lightly," said he. "I live not for ham, for beer, or for ortolans, but for the victory of freedom of conscience. The prince of freedom does even as I do. He sacrifices his wealth, his sleep and his happiness to drive out from the Low Countries the butchers and tyranny. Do as he does and try to grow thinner. 'Tis not by the belly that peoples can be saved, but by proud courage and fatigues endured even unto death without a murmur. And now go and lie down, if thou art sleepy."

But Lamme would not, being ashamed.

And they furbished arms and cast bullets until it was morning, and thus for three days.

Then they departed for Ghent, by night, selling bird cages, mouse-traps, and olie-koekjes.

And they stopped at Meulestee, the little town of the mills, whose red roofs are seen everywhere, and there they agreed to carry on their trades apart and to meet each other at night before curfew in de Zwaen, at the Swan Inn.

Lamme wandered about the streets of Ghent selling olie-koekjes getting a liking for this trade, seeking for his wife, emptying many a quart pot and eating continually. Ulenspiegel had delivered letters from the prince to Jacob Scoelap, licentiate in medicine; to Lieven Smet, cloth seller; to Jan Wulfschaeger, to Gillis Coorne, the scarlet dyer, and to Jan de Roose, tile maker, who gave him the money harvested by them for the Prince, and bade him wait some days longer at Ghent and in the neighbourhood, and he would be given still more.

Those men having been hanged later on the New Gibbet for heresy, their bodies were buried in the Gallows Field, near the Bruges Gate.

x.x.x

Meanwhile, the provost Spelle le Roux, armed with his red wand, was hurrying from town to town on his lean horse, everywhere setting up scaffolds, lighting fires of execution, digging graves to bury poor women and girls alive in them. And the King inherited.

Ulenspiegel being at Meulestee with Lamme, under a tree, found himself full of weary la.s.situde. It was cold although the month was June. From the skies, laden with gray clouds, there fell a fine hail.

"My son," said Lamme, "you are for the past four nights shamelessly running wild, gadding after the bona robas, you go to sleep in de Zoeten Inval, at the Sweet Fall; you will do like the man on the sign, falling head foremost into a hive of bees. Vainly do I wait for you in de Zwaen, and I draw evil forebodings from this liquorish living. Why do you not take a wife virtuously?"

"Lamme," said Ulenspiegel, "he to whom one woman is all women, and to whom all women are one in this gentle combat that they call love, must not lightly rush upon his choice."

"And Nele, do you not think at all on her?"

"Nele is at Damme, far away," said Ulenspiegel.

While he was in this posture and the hail was falling thick, a young and pretty woman pa.s.sed by, running and covering up her head in her petticoat.

"Eh," said she, "dreamy one, what dost thou under that tree?"

"I am dreaming," said Ulenspiegel, "of a woman that should make me a roof against the hail with her petticoat."

"Thou hast found her," said the woman. "Rise up."

"Wilt thou leave me alone again?" said Lamme.

"Aye," said Ulenspiegel, "but go in de Zwaen, eat a leg of mutton or two, drink a dozen tankards of beer; you will sleep and you will not be forlorn then."

"I will do that," said Lamme.

Ulenspiegel went up to the woman.

"Pick up my skirt on one side," said she, "I will lift it on the other, and now let us run."

"Why run?" asked Ulenspiegel.

"Because," she said, "I am fain to flee from Meulestee; the provost Spelle is in it with two catchpolls and he has sworn to have all the light ladies whipped if they will not pay him five florins each. That is why I am running: run, too, and stay with me to defend me."

"Lamme," cried Ulenspiegel, "Spelle is in Meulestee. Go off and away to Destelberg, to the Star of the Wise Men."

And Lamme, getting up affrighted, took his belly in both hands and began to run.

"Whither is this fat hare going?" said the girl.

"To a burrow where I shall find him again," replied Ulenspiegel.

"Let us run," said she, beating the ground with her foot like a restive filly.

"I would fain be virtuous without running," said Ulenspiegel.

"What does that mean?" asked she.