The Legend of Ulenspiegel, Volume 2 (of 2)

by Charles de Coster

And flinging the purse on the ground:

  "'Tis not thy money I want, 'tis thou, thy sweet body, thy kindheart, O my beloved! O heavenly joys! Ye will come back no more. Ihad grown hardened not to see thee, to live without love, my sweettreasure. And lo, having come to me again, thou dost abandon me. ButI will die. Ha! my wife? Where is my wife?"

  And he wept with scalding tears on the ground where he had casthimself. Then all at once opening the door, he started to runthroughout the whole of the inn, and into the street, in his shirt,crying:

  "My wife? Where is my wife?"

  But soon he came back, for the mischievous boys hooted him and threwstones at him.

  And Ulenspiegel said to him, forcing him to clothe himself:

  "Do not be so overwhelmed; you shall see her again, since you haveseen her. She loves you still, since she came back to you, since itwas doubtless she that paid for the supper and for the lordly chambers,and that put on your bed this full pouch. The ashes tell me that thisis not the doing of a faithless wife. Weep no more, and let us marchforth for the defence of the land of our fathers."

  "Let us still remain in Bruges," said Lamme; "I would fain run throughthe whole town, and I will find her."

  "You will not find her, since she is hiding from you," saidUlenspiegel.

  Lamme asked for explanations from the baes, but the other would tellhim nothing.

  And they went away towards Damme.

  While they went on their way, Ulenspiegel said to Lamme:

  "Why do you not tell me how you found her beside you, last night,and how she left you?"

  "My son," replied Lamme, "you know that we had feasted on meat, onbeer, on wine, and that I could hardly breathe when we went off tobed. I held a wax candle in my hand, like a lord, to light me and hadput down the candlestick on a chest to sleep; the door had remainedajar, the chest was close to it. Undressing, I looked on my bed withgreat love and desire for sleep; the wax candle suddenly went out. Iheard as it were a breath and a sound of light feet in my chamber;but being more sleepy than afraid, I lay down heavily. As I was aboutto fall asleep, a voice--her voice, O my wife, my poor wife!--saidto me: 'Have you supped well, Lamme?' and her voice was beside me,and her face, too, and her sweet body."

  XLI

  On that day Philip the king, having eaten too much pastry, was moremelancholy than usual. He had played upon his living harpsichord,which was a case containing cats whose heads came out through roundopenings above the keys. Every time the king struck a key, the keyin turn struck a cat with a dart, and the beast mewed and complainedby reason of the pain.

  But Philip never laughed.

  Unceasingly, he sought in his mind how he could conquer the greatqueen, Elizabeth, and set up Mary Stuart on the throne of England. Withthis object he had written to the Pope who was needy and full of debts;the Pope had replied that for this enterprise he would gladly sellthe holy vessels of the temples and the treasures of the Vatican.

  But Philip never laughed.

  Ridolfi, Queen Mary's favourite, who hoped, by delivering her, tomarry her afterwards and become king of England, came to see Philipand with him plot the murder of Elizabeth. But he was so "parlanchin,"as the king wrote, so given to talking, that his designs were openlytalked about in the Antwerp Bourse; and the murder was never committed.

  And Philip never laughed.

  Later, in accordance with the king's orders, the bloody duke sent twocouples of assassins into England. They succeeded in getting hanged.

  And Philip never laughed.

  And thus God brought to naught and thwarted the ambition of thisvampire, who looked to remove her son from Mary Stuart and to reign inhis stead, with the Pope, over England. And the murderer was irritatedto see this noble country so great and powerful. He never ceased toturn his pale eyes towards it, seeking how he might crush it so asto reign thereafter over the whole world, exterminate the reformers,and especially the rich, and inherit the victim's wealth.

  But he never laughed.

  And mice and field mice were brought to him in an iron box, with highsides, and open of one side; and he put the bottom of the box on ahot fire and took his pleasure in seeing and hearing the poor littlebeasts leaping, moaning, and dying.

  But he never laughed.

  Then pale and with trembling hand he went to the arms of Madamed'Eboli, to slake the fire of his lust lit by the torch of cruelty.

  And he never laughed.

  And Madame d'Eboli received him for fear and not for love.

  XLII

  The air was warm: from the quiet sea there came not a breathof wind. Scarce did the trees by the canal of Damme shiver, thegrasshoppers dwelt in the meadows, while in the fields men from thechurches and the abbeys came to fetch the thirteenth part of theharvest for the cures and the abbots. Out of the sky, blue, ardent,deep, the sun poured down warmth and Nature slept under his rayslike a fair girl naked and swooning under her lover's caresses. Thecarps were cutting capers above the surface of the canal to seize theflies that buzzed like a kettle; while the swallows, with their longbodies and great wings, disputed the prey with them. From the earthrose a warm vapour, wavering and shimmering in the light. The beadleof Damme announced from the top of the tower, by means of a crackedbell sounding like a pot, that it was noon and time for the countryfolk working at the haymaking to go to dinner. Women cried long andloud, holding their closed hands funnel-wise, calling in their men,brothers or husbands, by name: Hans, Pieter, Joos; and one might seetheir red hoods above the hedges.

  Far off, in the eyes of Lamme and Ulenspiegel, rose lofty, square,and massive the tower of Notre Dame, and Lamme said:

  "There, my son, are thy griefs and thy love."

  But Ulenspiegel made no answer.

  "Soon," said Lamme, "shall I see my ancient home and perchancemy wife."

  But Ulenspiegel made no answer.

  "Man of wood," said Lamme, "heart of stone, nothing then can affectyou, neither the nearness of the places in which you spent yourboyhood, nor the dear shades of poor Claes and poor Soetkin, the twomartyrs. What! you are neither sad nor glad; what then hath dried upyour heart in this way? Look at me, anxious, uneasy, bounding in mybelly; look at me...."

  Lamme looked at Ulenspiegel and saw him with head livid, pale andhanging, his lips trembling, and weeping without saying a word.

  And he held his tongue.

  They marched thus in silence as far as Damme, and came into itby the street of the Heron, and saw no one in it, because of theheat. The dogs, with their tongues hanging out, lying on their sides,were gaping before the thresholds of the doors. Lamme and Ulenspiegelpassed directly in front of the Townhall, before which Claes had beenburned; the lips of Ulenspiegel trembled more, and his tears driedup. Finding himself over against the house of Claes, occupied by acoalman, he said to him as he went within:

  "Dost thou know me? I am fain to rest here."

  The master coalman said:

  "I know thee; thou art the son of the victim. Go wherever thou wouldstin this house."

  Ulenspiegel went into the kitchen, then into the bedchamber of Claesand Soetkin, and there he wept.

  When he had come down thence, the master coalman said to him:

  "Here are bread, cheese, and beer. If thou art hungry, eat; if thouart thirsty, drink."

  Ulenspiegel signed with his hand that he was neither hungry northirsty.

  He walked thus with Lamme, who stayed astraddle on his ass, whileUlenspiegel held his by the halter.

  They arrived at Katheline's cottage, tied up their asses, and wentin. It was meal time. There were on the table haricots in their podsmixed with great white beans. Katheline was eating; Nele was standingand ready to pour into Katheline's plate a vinegar sauce she had justtaken from the fire.

  When Ulenspiegel came in, she was so startled that she put the pot andall the sauce in Katheline's plate, who, nodding her head, began tohunt for the beans around the saucepot with her spoon, and strikingherself on the forehead, repeated like a madwoman:
<
br />   "Take away the fire! My head is burning!"

  The smell of the vinegar made Lamme hungry.

  Ulenspiegel remained standing, looking at Nele, smiling with lovethrough his great sadness.

  And Nele, without a word, threw her arms about his neck. She, too,seemed bereft of her wits; she wept, laughed; and red with great andsweet joy, she said only: "Thyl! Thyl!" Ulenspiegel, happy, gazedat her; then she left him, went and stationed herself farther off,contemplated him with joy and from there once again sprang upon him,throwing her arms about his neck; and so several times over. Heheld her, very happy, unable to sever from her, until she fell upona chair, wearied out and as though out of her senses; and she saidwithout any shame:

  "Thyl! Thyl! my beloved, and so there you are back again!"

  Lamme was standing at the door; when Nele was calmed, she said,pointing to him:

  "Where have I seen this big man?"

  "This is my friend," said Ulenspiegel. "He is seeking for his wifein my company."

  "I know thee," said Nele, speaking to Lamme; "thou didst use todwell in the street of the Heron. Thou art seeking thy wife; I sawher at Bruges, living in all piety and devoutness. Having askedher why she had so cruelly abandoned her husband, she answered me:'Such was the holy will of God and the order of the holy Penance,but I cannot live with him henceforth.'"

  Lamme was sad at this word, and looked at the beans in vinegar. And thelarks, singing, sprang aloft in the sky, and Nature in ecstasy allowedherself to be caressed by the sun. And Katheline with her spoon pickedout all round the pot the white beans, the green pods, and the sauce.

  XLIII

  At this time a girl of fifteen went from Heyst to Knokke, alone,in broad daylight, through the dunes. No one had any fears for her,for it was well known that weer-wolves and evil spirits of the damnedbite only by night. She was carrying in a pouch forty-eight sols insilver, of the value of four florins carolus, which her mother ToriaPieterson, who lived at Heyst, owed, out of the proceeds of a sale,to her uncle, Jan Rapen, who lived at Knokke. The girl, by name Betkin,having donned all her best finery, had gone off gaily.

  That night her mother was uneasy not to see her come home; still,thinking she had slept at her uncle's house, she reassured herself.

  The next day certain fishermen, coming back from sea with a boat fullof fish, hauled their boat up on the beach and unloaded their fish intocarts, to sell it by auction, cart by cart, in Heyst. They climbedup the road, strewn with broken shells, and found among the dunes ayoung girl stripped quite naked, even of her chemise, and blood aroundher. Coming near, they saw in her poor broken neck the marks of long,sharp teeth. Lying on her back, her eyes were open, staring at the sky,and her mouth was open, too, as if to cry out on death!

  Covering the girl's body with an opperst-kleed, they brought it toHeyst, to the Townhall. Thither speedily assembled the aldermen andthe barber-surgeon, who declared that those long teeth were neverwolf's teeth as they were made by Nature, but belonged to some wickedand evil and infernal weer-wolf, and that it behoved all men to prayto God to deliver the land of Flanders.

  And in all the country and especially at Damme, Heyst, and Knokke,were ordained prayers and orisons.

  And the people, groaning, remained in the churches.

  In the church of Heyst, where the corpse of the young girl was laidout and exposed, men and women wept, seeing her neck all bloody andtorn. And the mother said in the very church:

  "I will go to the weer-wolf and kill him with my teeth."

  And the women, weeping, egged her on to do this. And some said:

  "Thou wilt never come back."

  And she went, with her husband and her two brothers well armed, tohunt for the wolf by beach, dune, and valley, but never found him. Andher husband was obliged to take her home, for she had caught feverby reason of the night cold; and they watched beside her, mendingtheir nets for the next fishing day.

  The bailiff of Damme, bethinking himself that the weer-wolf is a beastthat lives on blood and does not strip the dead, said that this onewas doubtless followed by robbers wandering about the dunes seekingtheir evil gain. Wherefore he summoned by the sound of the churchbell all and sundry, directing them to fall well armed and furnishedwith cudgels upon all beggars and tramping ruffians, to apprehendtheir persons and search them to see if they might not have in theirsatchels gold carolus or any portion of the victim's raiment. And afterthis the able-bodied beggars and tramps should be taken to the king'sgalleys. And the aged and infirm should be allowed to go their ways.

  But they found nothing.

  Ulenspiegel went to the bailiff's and said to him:

  "I mean to slay the weer-wolf."

  "What gives thee this confidence?" asked the bailiff.

  "The ashes beat upon my heart," answered Ulenspiegel. "Grant mepermission to work in the forge of the commune."

  "Thou mayst do so," said the bailiff.

  Ulenspiegel, without saying a word of his project to any man or womanin Damme, went off to the forge and there in secret he fashioned afine and large-sized engine to trap wild beasts.

  The next day, being Saturday, a day beloved of the weer-wolf,Ulenspiegel, carrying a letter from the bailiff for the cure of Heyst,and the engine under his cloak, armed also with a good crossbow anda well-sharpened cutlass, departed, saying to the folk in Damme:

  "I am going to shoot sea-mews and I will make pillows for the bailiff'swife with their down."

  Going towards Heyst, he came upon the beach, heard the boisterous seacurling and breaking in big waves, roaring like thunder, and the windcame from England whistling in the rigging of shipwrecked boats. Afisherman said to him:

  "This is ruin to us, this ill wind. Last night the sea was still,but after sunrise it got up suddenly into fury. We shall not be ableto go a-fishing."

  Ulenspiegel was glad, assured thus of having help during the nightif there should be need.

  At Heyst he went to the cure, and gave him the letter from thebailiff. The cure said to him:

  "Thou art bold: yet know that no man passes alone at night, by thedunes, on Saturday without being bitten and left dead on the sand. Theworkmen on the dykes and others go there only in bands. Night isfalling. Dost thou hear the weer-wolf howling in his valley? Will hecome again as he did this last night, to cry terribly in the graveyardthe whole night long? God be with thee, my son, but go not thither."

  And the cure crossed himself.

  "The ashes beat upon my heart," answered Ulenspiegel.

  The cure said:

  "Since thou hast so stout a mind, I will help thee."

  "Master cure," said Ulenspiegel, "you would do a great boon to meand to the poor desolated country by going to the house of Toria, themother of the slain girl, and to her two brothers likewise to tell themthat the wolf is close at hand, and that I mean to await and kill him."

  The cure said:

  "If thou dost not yet know on what path thou shouldst take up thystand, stay in that one that leads to the graveyard. It is betweentwo hedges of broom. Two men could not walk in it side by side."

  "I will take my stand there," said Ulenspiegel. "And do you, valiantmaster cure, co-worker of deliverance, order and enjoin the girl'smother, with her husband and her brothers, to be in the church, allarmed, before the curfew. If they hear me whistling like the sea-mew,it will mean that I have seen the weer-wolf. They must then soundwacharm on the bell and come to my rescue. And if there are any otherbrave men?..."

  "There are none, my son," replied the cure. "The fishermen fear theweer-wolf more than the plague and death. But go not thither."

  Ulenspiegel replied:

  "The ashes beat upon my heart."

  The cure said then:

  "I shall do as thou wishest; be thou blessed. Art thou hungry orthirsty?"

  "Both," replied Ulenspiegel.

  The cure gave him beer, bread, and cheese.

  Ulenspiegel drank, ate, and went away.

  Going along and raising his eyes, he sa
w his father Claes in glory,by the side of God, in the sky where the clear moon was shining,and looked at the sea and the clouds and he heard the tempestuouswind blowing out of England.

  "Alas!" said he, "black clouds that pass so swift, be ye like Vengeanceupon the heels of Murder. Roaring sea, sky that dost make thee black asthe mouth of hell, waves with the fire foam running along the sombrewater, shaking impatient, wrathful, ye animals innumerable of fire,oxen, sheep, horses, serpents that wallow upon the sea or rise upinto the air, belching out a flaming rain, O sea all black, sky blackwith mourning, come with me to fight against the weer-wolf, the foulmurderer of little girls. And thou, wind that wailest plaintively inthe bents on the dunes and in the cordage of the ships, thou art thevoice of the victims crying out for vengeance to God; may He be myhelper in this enterprise."

  And he went down into the valley, tottering on his two naturalposts as if he had had the drunkard's wine-lees in his head and acabbage-indigestion on his stomach.

  And he sang hiccuping, zigzagging, yawning, spitting, and stopping,playing at a pretence of vomiting, but in reality opening his eyeswide to study closely everything about him, when suddenly he hearda shrill howling; he stopped short, vomiting like a dog, and saw inthe light of the strong shining moon the long shape of a wolf walkingtowards the cemetery.

  Tottering again he entered on the path marked out among thebroom. There, feigning to fall, he set the engine on the side whencethe wolf was coming, made ready his crossbow, and moved away tenpaces, standing in a drunken attitude, continually pretending tostagger about, to hiccup and vomit, but in verity stringing up hiswits like a bow and keeping eyes and ears wide open.