XXXIII

XXXIIIBy sea, by river, in fair weather and foul, through snows of winter and summer’s heat, the ships of the Beggarmen sailed before the breeze. Full-bellied was their canvas and white as the down of swans—white swans of Liberty.But to the King of Blood came the news of their conquests, and death was already at work upon his vitals, and his body was full of worms. And he dragged himself along the corridors of his palace at Valladolid, and he never laughed—not even at daybreak, what time the Sun rose to irradiate all the lands of his empire as with the very smile of God.But Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and Nele sang out like birds, living from day to day, having joy to hear of many a funeral pyre put out by the brave Beggarmen. And Tyl sang five songs, all to the glory of the land of Flanders and to the despite of her enemies.And it came to pass that on a day, having taken the towns of Rammeken, Gertruydenberg, and Alckmaer, the Beggarmen returned to Flushing. And there in the harbour they beheld a little boat moored. And in the boat was a pretty-looking woman with golden-brown hair, brown eyes, fresh cheeks, rounded arms, and white hands. And all at once the woman cried out:“Lamme! Lamme!” And then again: “Ah, but you must not approach me! I have taken a vow before God.... Yet I love you. Ah, my dear husband!”Nele said: “It is Calleken Huysbrechts—the fair Calleken!”“Even so,” answered the woman. “But, alas! the hour of noon has already struck for my beauty.” And she looked very sorrowful.But now Lamme jumped down from the ship into a little skiff, which was straightway brought alongside of the boat wherein was his wife.“What have you been doing?” he asked her. “What has been happening to you? Why did you leave me? And why now do you make as though you would have none of me?”Then Calleken told him, in a voice that oftentimes trembled with tears, how that she had entrusted the care of her soul to a monk, one Brother Cornelis Adriaensen, and how he had warned her against her husband for that he was a heretic and a consorter with heretics. How also by his eloquence he had persuaded her that a life of celibacy was most pleasing unto God and his saints, albeit he oftentimes profaned the holy confessional with many a penance that was most distressful to her modesty. “Nevertheless,” she ended, “I swear before God that I remained ever faithful to you, my husband, for I loved you.”But Lamme gazed upon her sadly and reproachfully, so that Nele said to him:“If Calleken has been faithful as she says, it behoves her now to leave you in very deed, as a punishment for your unkindness.”“He knows not how I love him,” said Calleken.“Is this the truth?” cried Lamme. And then seeing that it was so: “Then come, wife,” he cried, “the winter is over!”Thereafter, having given and received from all the kiss of peace: “Come now,” cried Lamme, “come, wife, with me. For now is the hour of lawful loves!”And together they sailed away in their little boat.Meanwhile the soldiers, the sailors, and the ship’s boys that stood around, all waved their caps in the air and shouted: “Adieu, brother! Adieu, Lamme! Adieu, brother—brother and friend!”And Nele removed with the tip of her sweet finger a tear that had settled in the corner of the eye of Ulenspiegel.“You are sad, my love?” she asked him.“He was good,” Tyl said.Nele sighed.“Ah! This war—will it never end? Must we live for ever thus, in the midst of blood and tears?”“Let us seek the Seven,” said Ulenspiegel. “The hour of deliverance is at hand.”XXXIVIt was the season of harvest. The air was heavy, the wind warm. They that gathered the harvest were able now to reap at their ease, under a free sky and from a free soil, the corn they had sown.Frise, Drenthe, Overyssel, Gueldre, Utrecht, NoordBrabant, Noord and Zuid Holland; Walcheren, Noord and Zuid Beveland; Duiveland and Schouwen which together make up Zeeland; the sea-bordering lands to the north from Knokke to Helder; the isles of Texel, Vlieland, Ameland, and Schiermonik Oog—all were being delivered from the Spanish yoke, from the Eastern Scheldt to the Oost Ems. And Maurice, the son of William the Silent, was continuing the war.Ulenspiegel and Nele kept still their youthfulness, their strength and their beauty, for the Love and the Spirit of Flanders never grow old. And they lived happily at the Tower of Neere, waiting for that day when, after so many cruel trials, they would be able to breathe the breath of liberty upon their native land of Belgium.Ulenspiegel had asked to be made governor and guardian of the Tower. For he had, so he said, the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a hare, and so he would be able to see at once if the Spaniard ever dared to show himself again in the lands that had been delivered from his yoke. Then quickly would he sound thewacharm, the alarm-bell as we call it in our tongue.To this request the magistrate consented, and in virtueof the good service he had rendered, Ulenspiegel was allowed a florin every day, two pints of beer, a ration of beans, cheese, biscuits, and three pounds of beef weekly.And so did Ulenspiegel and Nele live on the Tower together very happily, having joy to see in the distance the free isles of Zeeland, and near at hand the woods and castles and fortresses, and the armed ships of the Beggarmen that guarded the coast.At night they would often mount to the top of the Tower, and there they would sit together on the flat roof, talking of many a stern battle and telling many a tale of love, past and to come. And from their Tower they could see the ocean, which, when the weather was hot, furled and unfurled along the shore its shining waves, and threw them upon the island-coasts like wraiths of fire. And among the polders the will-o’-the-wisps would come a-dancing. And Nele was afraid of them, for she said they were the souls of the poor dead. And true it was that all those places where they danced had once been fields of battle. And the will-o’-the-wisps would oftentimes spring forth from the polders, and run along the dikes, and then return again to the polders, as though unwilling to leave the bodies whence they had come.One night Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Behold how many spirits there are in Dreiveland, and how high they fly! Over there by the Isle of Birds they seem to crowd the thickest. Will you come with me there one night, Tyl? We would take with us the balm that can show us things invisible to mortal eyes.”But Ulenspiegel answered:“If you mean the balm we took when we went to the great Sabbath of Spring, I have no more faith or confidence in what we saw there than in any idle dream.”“It is wrong to deny the power of charms,” said Nele. “Come, Ulenspiegel!”“Very well,” he said.The next day Ulenspiegel arranged with the magistrate that one of the soldiers who had clear sight and a faithful heart should take his place at the Tower for that one evening. And away he went with Nele towards the Isle of Birds.They passed along by many a field and dike, till at last they saw the sea in front of them, and in it were set many little green islands with the waves coursing in between. And all about the grassy hills, which soon began to lose themselves in the sand-dunes, a great quantity of peewits were flying high and low, and sea-gulls and sea-swallows. Some of these birds would crowd together on the surface of the sea, and stay there quite still, so that they looked like little white islets; and above them and about flew thousands of their fellows. The very soil itself was full of their nests, and Ulenspiegel stooped down to pick up one of their eggs which was lying on the road. No sooner had he done so than a sea-gull came flapping towards him, crying out the while most dolefully. And in answer to this summons there flew up a hundred other sea-gulls, crying out as if in anguish, hovering about the head of Ulenspiegel and over the neighbouring nests. But they did not dare to approach him.“Ulenspiegel,” said Nele, “these birds are asking you to have mercy on their eggs.”Then she began to tremble, and said:“I am afraid. Behold, the sun is setting, the sky is pale, the stars are awakening, it is the hour of the spirits. And look at these ruddy exhalations which rise all about us and seem as it were to trail along the ground. Tyl, my beloved, what monster from hell may he be who thus in the mist begins to open his fiery mouth? And look over there towards Philipsland. It was there that the murderer king had all those poor men done to death, not once but twice, and all for the sake of his cruel ambition! 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 allcold 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. “By the power of the balm it may be you will see them.”“Maybe,” said Ulenspiegel, “if some spirit, forsooth, would come down to visit us from that cold star.” And he pointed with his finger to the star Sirius.No sooner had he made this gesture than a will-o’-the-wisp that had been flying round them came and attached itself to his finger, and the more Ulenspiegel tried to shake it off the firmer the little wisp held on. Nele tried to free Ulenspiegel, but now she also had a little wisp firm on the tip of her finger, and neither would it let her go. 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? For you have none, my sweet! Or wait they, perhaps, till they come to blessed Paradise ere taking upon themselves a human form?”“Why waste time in talking to a peevish little flame that has no ears to hear with, no mouth wherewith to answer?” said Ulenspiegel.But paying no attention to him, Nele went on:“Wisp of mine, answer me now by dancing. For I am going to question you thrice. Once in the name of God, once in the name of Our Lady, and once in the name of the Elemental Spirits who are the messengers between God and men.”And this she did, and three times did the elf dance in answer.Then Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Take off your clothes, and I will do the same. See, here is the silver box which holds the balm of vision.”“Be it as you wish,” answered Ulenspiegel.When they had undressed and anointed themselves with the balm of vision, they lay down naked as they were beside one another on the grass.The sea-gulls screamed; the thunder growled and rumbled, and in the darkness the lightning flashed. Between two clouds the moon scarcely showed her crescent’s golden horns; and the will-o’-the-wisps departed from Nele and Ulenspiegel to go off dancing with their comrades in the fields.Suddenly a great giant hand took hold of Nele and her lover, and threw them high in air as though they had been a child’s playthings. Then the giant caught them again, rolled them one on the other and kneaded them between his hands, and after that he threw them into a pool of water that lay between the hills, and last of all he dragged them out again full of water and water-weeds. And the giant began to sing in a voice so loud that all the sea-gulls of the islands awakened in terror:With eyes that squint they would discern,These silly, wandering insect-mortals,The sacred symbols none may learn,Safe guarded now within our portalsRead then, flea, the mystery high,Read then, louse, the secret vast,Which to earth and air and skyBy seven nails is anchored fast!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.Pope of Popes, King of Kings,Fashioned of wood he is Lord of All Things.Suddenly the lines of the giant’s face suffered a change. He seemed thinner, sadder and greater than ever. And in one hand he held a sceptre, and in the other a sword. And his name was Pride.And throwing Nele and Ulenspiegel to the ground, he said:“I am God.”Then by his side there appeared a ruddy-faced girl, and she was seated on the back of a goat, and her bosom was bare, her gown half open, and she had a wanton eye; and her name was Luxury. After her there came an old woman,a Jewess, who was busy all the time, scraping up the egg-shells of the sea-gulls that lay about on the ground; and her name was Avarice. Then a monk appeared, most greedy and gluttonous, eating chitterlings he was, and cramming himself with sausages and champing his jaws together without ceasing, like the sow whereon he rode; and his name was Greed. Thereafter came Idleness, dragging one leg after the other; wan she was and bloated, and she had a dull eye. And Anger came chasing after Idleness with a sharp needle with which she pricked her so that she cried aloud, and Idleness grieved and lamented with many tears, and kept falling down on to her knees so tired she was. Last of all came Envy, a thin figure with a head like a viper and teeth like the teeth of a pike. And she kept biting all the others with those cruel teeth of hers—Idleness because she had too much leisure, Anger because she was too lively, Greed because he was too well fed, Luxury because she was too ruddy, Avarice because of the treasure of shells she had amassed, Pride because of his robe of purple and his crown. And the wisps kept dancing all around, and they spake with many voices like the voices of men, women, and girls, and in the plaintive voices of children, and they groaned, saying:“O Pride, father of Ambition, and you, O Anger, that are the source of cruelty, you slew us on many a battlefield, and caused our death in many a prison and many a torture-chamber, that you might keep your sceptres and your crowns! And you, O Envy, that have destroyed so many useful thoughts while yet in the germ, we are the souls of the inventors whom you have persecuted. Avarice, you it is that have turned the blood of the poor into gold, and we are the souls of your victims. O Luxury, you are the friend and the sister of Murder; Nero, Messalina, Philip King of Spain—such are your children, and you buy virtue and you bribe corruption, and we are the souls of your dead. And you, O Idleness, and you, Greed, you befoul the world, but theworld must be cleansed of you; we are the souls of those who have perished at your hands.”And a voice was heard saying:From the dung-heap flowers arise,Seven are wicked, but seven are good.Bad teacher oft makes pupil wise.Now longs the wandering louse compriseBoth coal and cinder if he could!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 these words the Seven were suddenly transformed into images of wood, though they still lost nothing of their former outline; and a voice was heard saying:“Burn the wood, Ulenspiegel.”And Ulenspiegel turned towards the will-o’-the-wisps:“You that are made of fire, do your office.”And the wisps thronged around the seven images, which straightway burst into flame and were reduced to ashes.And from the ashes there flowed a river of blood.But out of the ashes arose now seven other figures, and the first said:“Once I was called Pride. But now my name is Nobility.”And the rest spake after the same fashion, and Nele and Ulenspiegel saw how Economy came forth from Avarice; Vivacity from Anger; Healthy Appetite from Gluttony; Emulation from Envy; and from Idleness the Dreams of poets andwise men. And Luxury, on her goat, was now transformed into the likeness of a beautiful woman, and her name was Love.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 seaThese 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.”And a powerful hand seized Nele by the arm, and threw her away into the void. And the Spirits sang:When the NorthShall kiss the WestThen shall be the end of ruin.Find the Cincture.“Alas!” cried Ulenspiegel. “North, West, Cincture!You speak in riddles, Sir Spirits!”But they went on with their singing and chattering:The North is the Netherland,Belgium is the West.Cincture is friendship,Cincture is Alliance.“Now you are talking sense, Sir Spirits,” said Ulenspiegel.And yet again they sang:The Cincture, little man,’Twixt Holland and Belgium—Firm Alliance,And beautiful Friendship.Alliance of Counsel,Alliance of Action,By deathBy blood,Were it notFor the Scheldt,Little man, for the Scheldt.“Alas!” said Ulenspiegel, “such is our life! Tears of man and laughter of destiny!”And again the Spirits repeated their rune, and their voices were like the clicking of castanets.Alliance by bloodAnd by deathWere it notFor the Scheldt.And a strong hand took hold of Ulenspiegel and threw him into the void.XXXVAs she fell, Nele rubbed her eyes but she could see nothing save the sun that was rising, wreathed in a golden mist. And then the tips of the grass all golden too, in that radiance which was soon to tinge with gold the plumage of the sea-gulls who slept as yet, but were about to awaken.Nele looked downwards at herself, and seeing that she was naked she put on her clothes with all haste. Then it was that she noticed the body of Ulenspiegel where it lay there, naked also, and him also she covered with his clothes. He seemed to be still asleep and she gave him a shake, but he remained quite motionless like one dead. Then was Nele seized with fear. “Have I killed him?” she cried. “Have I killed my love with this balm of vision? Would that I too might die! Ah, Tyl, wake up! But he is as cold as marble!”Ulenspiegel did not awake, and two nights passed and a day, and Nele still watched by his side in a fever of grief and fear.It was at the dawn of the second day of her vigil that Nele heard the sound of a little bell in the distance, and saw presently a peasant approaching with a shovel in his hand. Behind him came a burgomaster with two aldermen carrying candles, and then the curé of Stavenisse with a beadle holding a parasol over his head. It appeared that they were going to administer the Holy Sacrament of Unction to one Jacobsen, a brave Beggarman, who had adopted the new religion by compulsion, but being about to die had returned to the bosom of the Holy Roman Church.When they came opposite to Nele they found her still crying, and they saw the body of Ulenspiegel laid out on the grass in front of her, covered with clothes. Nele fell upon her knees in front of the little procession.“My girl,” said the burgomaster, “what are you doing by this corpse?”Without daring to raise her eyes, Nele made answer:“I am praying for the soul of my beloved, he that has fallen dead as if struck by lightning. I am alone now, and I am fain to die.”But already the curé was puffing with pleasure.“Ulenspiegel the Beggarman dead!” he cried. “Praise be to God! Be quick there, peasant, and dig a grave, and take his clothes off before you bury him.”“No,” said Nele, getting up from the ground. “No, you shall not take his clothes, he would be cold there in the cold earth.”“Quick!” cried the curé, addressing himself again to the peasant with the shovel.“You may bury him,” said Nele, all in tears. “I give you leave; for this sand is full of lime, so that his body will keep for ever whole and beautiful, the body of my beloved.”And half mad with anguish as she was, Nele bent over the body of Ulenspiegel, kissing him through her tears.Now the burgomaster, the aldermen, and even the peasant had compassion on the girl, but not so the curé, who ceased not to cry out most joyfully: “The great Beggarman is dead! God be praised!”Then the peasant dug the grave, and Ulenspiegel was placed therein, and covered all over with sand.And over the grave the curé said the prayers for the dead, and the others knelt all round. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the sand, and Ulenspiegel arose, sneezing and shaking the sand from his hair, and he seized the curé by the throat.“Inquisitor!” he cried. “I was asleep, and you buried me alive! Where is Nele? Have you buried her also? Who are you?”The curé began to cry out in terror:“The great Beggarman returns to this world! Lord God have mercy on my soul!”And away he fled like a stag before the hounds.Nele came to Ulenspiegel: “Kiss me, dearest,” she said.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.”And they twain departed, Ulenspiegel singing his sixth song. But no man knoweth where he sang his last.The Sixth SongThe Sixth Song

XXXIIIBy sea, by river, in fair weather and foul, through snows of winter and summer’s heat, the ships of the Beggarmen sailed before the breeze. Full-bellied was their canvas and white as the down of swans—white swans of Liberty.But to the King of Blood came the news of their conquests, and death was already at work upon his vitals, and his body was full of worms. And he dragged himself along the corridors of his palace at Valladolid, and he never laughed—not even at daybreak, what time the Sun rose to irradiate all the lands of his empire as with the very smile of God.But Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and Nele sang out like birds, living from day to day, having joy to hear of many a funeral pyre put out by the brave Beggarmen. And Tyl sang five songs, all to the glory of the land of Flanders and to the despite of her enemies.And it came to pass that on a day, having taken the towns of Rammeken, Gertruydenberg, and Alckmaer, the Beggarmen returned to Flushing. And there in the harbour they beheld a little boat moored. And in the boat was a pretty-looking woman with golden-brown hair, brown eyes, fresh cheeks, rounded arms, and white hands. And all at once the woman cried out:“Lamme! Lamme!” And then again: “Ah, but you must not approach me! I have taken a vow before God.... Yet I love you. Ah, my dear husband!”Nele said: “It is Calleken Huysbrechts—the fair Calleken!”“Even so,” answered the woman. “But, alas! the hour of noon has already struck for my beauty.” And she looked very sorrowful.But now Lamme jumped down from the ship into a little skiff, which was straightway brought alongside of the boat wherein was his wife.“What have you been doing?” he asked her. “What has been happening to you? Why did you leave me? And why now do you make as though you would have none of me?”Then Calleken told him, in a voice that oftentimes trembled with tears, how that she had entrusted the care of her soul to a monk, one Brother Cornelis Adriaensen, and how he had warned her against her husband for that he was a heretic and a consorter with heretics. How also by his eloquence he had persuaded her that a life of celibacy was most pleasing unto God and his saints, albeit he oftentimes profaned the holy confessional with many a penance that was most distressful to her modesty. “Nevertheless,” she ended, “I swear before God that I remained ever faithful to you, my husband, for I loved you.”But Lamme gazed upon her sadly and reproachfully, so that Nele said to him:“If Calleken has been faithful as she says, it behoves her now to leave you in very deed, as a punishment for your unkindness.”“He knows not how I love him,” said Calleken.“Is this the truth?” cried Lamme. And then seeing that it was so: “Then come, wife,” he cried, “the winter is over!”Thereafter, having given and received from all the kiss of peace: “Come now,” cried Lamme, “come, wife, with me. For now is the hour of lawful loves!”And together they sailed away in their little boat.Meanwhile the soldiers, the sailors, and the ship’s boys that stood around, all waved their caps in the air and shouted: “Adieu, brother! Adieu, Lamme! Adieu, brother—brother and friend!”And Nele removed with the tip of her sweet finger a tear that had settled in the corner of the eye of Ulenspiegel.“You are sad, my love?” she asked him.“He was good,” Tyl said.Nele sighed.“Ah! This war—will it never end? Must we live for ever thus, in the midst of blood and tears?”“Let us seek the Seven,” said Ulenspiegel. “The hour of deliverance is at hand.”XXXIVIt was the season of harvest. The air was heavy, the wind warm. They that gathered the harvest were able now to reap at their ease, under a free sky and from a free soil, the corn they had sown.Frise, Drenthe, Overyssel, Gueldre, Utrecht, NoordBrabant, Noord and Zuid Holland; Walcheren, Noord and Zuid Beveland; Duiveland and Schouwen which together make up Zeeland; the sea-bordering lands to the north from Knokke to Helder; the isles of Texel, Vlieland, Ameland, and Schiermonik Oog—all were being delivered from the Spanish yoke, from the Eastern Scheldt to the Oost Ems. And Maurice, the son of William the Silent, was continuing the war.Ulenspiegel and Nele kept still their youthfulness, their strength and their beauty, for the Love and the Spirit of Flanders never grow old. And they lived happily at the Tower of Neere, waiting for that day when, after so many cruel trials, they would be able to breathe the breath of liberty upon their native land of Belgium.Ulenspiegel had asked to be made governor and guardian of the Tower. For he had, so he said, the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a hare, and so he would be able to see at once if the Spaniard ever dared to show himself again in the lands that had been delivered from his yoke. Then quickly would he sound thewacharm, the alarm-bell as we call it in our tongue.To this request the magistrate consented, and in virtueof the good service he had rendered, Ulenspiegel was allowed a florin every day, two pints of beer, a ration of beans, cheese, biscuits, and three pounds of beef weekly.And so did Ulenspiegel and Nele live on the Tower together very happily, having joy to see in the distance the free isles of Zeeland, and near at hand the woods and castles and fortresses, and the armed ships of the Beggarmen that guarded the coast.At night they would often mount to the top of the Tower, and there they would sit together on the flat roof, talking of many a stern battle and telling many a tale of love, past and to come. And from their Tower they could see the ocean, which, when the weather was hot, furled and unfurled along the shore its shining waves, and threw them upon the island-coasts like wraiths of fire. And among the polders the will-o’-the-wisps would come a-dancing. And Nele was afraid of them, for she said they were the souls of the poor dead. And true it was that all those places where they danced had once been fields of battle. And the will-o’-the-wisps would oftentimes spring forth from the polders, and run along the dikes, and then return again to the polders, as though unwilling to leave the bodies whence they had come.One night Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Behold how many spirits there are in Dreiveland, and how high they fly! Over there by the Isle of Birds they seem to crowd the thickest. Will you come with me there one night, Tyl? We would take with us the balm that can show us things invisible to mortal eyes.”But Ulenspiegel answered:“If you mean the balm we took when we went to the great Sabbath of Spring, I have no more faith or confidence in what we saw there than in any idle dream.”“It is wrong to deny the power of charms,” said Nele. “Come, Ulenspiegel!”“Very well,” he said.The next day Ulenspiegel arranged with the magistrate that one of the soldiers who had clear sight and a faithful heart should take his place at the Tower for that one evening. And away he went with Nele towards the Isle of Birds.They passed along by many a field and dike, till at last they saw the sea in front of them, and in it were set many little green islands with the waves coursing in between. And all about the grassy hills, which soon began to lose themselves in the sand-dunes, a great quantity of peewits were flying high and low, and sea-gulls and sea-swallows. Some of these birds would crowd together on the surface of the sea, and stay there quite still, so that they looked like little white islets; and above them and about flew thousands of their fellows. The very soil itself was full of their nests, and Ulenspiegel stooped down to pick up one of their eggs which was lying on the road. No sooner had he done so than a sea-gull came flapping towards him, crying out the while most dolefully. And in answer to this summons there flew up a hundred other sea-gulls, crying out as if in anguish, hovering about the head of Ulenspiegel and over the neighbouring nests. But they did not dare to approach him.“Ulenspiegel,” said Nele, “these birds are asking you to have mercy on their eggs.”Then she began to tremble, and said:“I am afraid. Behold, the sun is setting, the sky is pale, the stars are awakening, it is the hour of the spirits. And look at these ruddy exhalations which rise all about us and seem as it were to trail along the ground. Tyl, my beloved, what monster from hell may he be who thus in the mist begins to open his fiery mouth? And look over there towards Philipsland. It was there that the murderer king had all those poor men done to death, not once but twice, and all for the sake of his cruel ambition! 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 allcold 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. “By the power of the balm it may be you will see them.”“Maybe,” said Ulenspiegel, “if some spirit, forsooth, would come down to visit us from that cold star.” And he pointed with his finger to the star Sirius.No sooner had he made this gesture than a will-o’-the-wisp that had been flying round them came and attached itself to his finger, and the more Ulenspiegel tried to shake it off the firmer the little wisp held on. Nele tried to free Ulenspiegel, but now she also had a little wisp firm on the tip of her finger, and neither would it let her go. 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? For you have none, my sweet! Or wait they, perhaps, till they come to blessed Paradise ere taking upon themselves a human form?”“Why waste time in talking to a peevish little flame that has no ears to hear with, no mouth wherewith to answer?” said Ulenspiegel.But paying no attention to him, Nele went on:“Wisp of mine, answer me now by dancing. For I am going to question you thrice. Once in the name of God, once in the name of Our Lady, and once in the name of the Elemental Spirits who are the messengers between God and men.”And this she did, and three times did the elf dance in answer.Then Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Take off your clothes, and I will do the same. See, here is the silver box which holds the balm of vision.”“Be it as you wish,” answered Ulenspiegel.When they had undressed and anointed themselves with the balm of vision, they lay down naked as they were beside one another on the grass.The sea-gulls screamed; the thunder growled and rumbled, and in the darkness the lightning flashed. Between two clouds the moon scarcely showed her crescent’s golden horns; and the will-o’-the-wisps departed from Nele and Ulenspiegel to go off dancing with their comrades in the fields.Suddenly a great giant hand took hold of Nele and her lover, and threw them high in air as though they had been a child’s playthings. Then the giant caught them again, rolled them one on the other and kneaded them between his hands, and after that he threw them into a pool of water that lay between the hills, and last of all he dragged them out again full of water and water-weeds. And the giant began to sing in a voice so loud that all the sea-gulls of the islands awakened in terror:With eyes that squint they would discern,These silly, wandering insect-mortals,The sacred symbols none may learn,Safe guarded now within our portalsRead then, flea, the mystery high,Read then, louse, the secret vast,Which to earth and air and skyBy seven nails is anchored fast!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.Pope of Popes, King of Kings,Fashioned of wood he is Lord of All Things.Suddenly the lines of the giant’s face suffered a change. He seemed thinner, sadder and greater than ever. And in one hand he held a sceptre, and in the other a sword. And his name was Pride.And throwing Nele and Ulenspiegel to the ground, he said:“I am God.”Then by his side there appeared a ruddy-faced girl, and she was seated on the back of a goat, and her bosom was bare, her gown half open, and she had a wanton eye; and her name was Luxury. After her there came an old woman,a Jewess, who was busy all the time, scraping up the egg-shells of the sea-gulls that lay about on the ground; and her name was Avarice. Then a monk appeared, most greedy and gluttonous, eating chitterlings he was, and cramming himself with sausages and champing his jaws together without ceasing, like the sow whereon he rode; and his name was Greed. Thereafter came Idleness, dragging one leg after the other; wan she was and bloated, and she had a dull eye. And Anger came chasing after Idleness with a sharp needle with which she pricked her so that she cried aloud, and Idleness grieved and lamented with many tears, and kept falling down on to her knees so tired she was. Last of all came Envy, a thin figure with a head like a viper and teeth like the teeth of a pike. And she kept biting all the others with those cruel teeth of hers—Idleness because she had too much leisure, Anger because she was too lively, Greed because he was too well fed, Luxury because she was too ruddy, Avarice because of the treasure of shells she had amassed, Pride because of his robe of purple and his crown. And the wisps kept dancing all around, and they spake with many voices like the voices of men, women, and girls, and in the plaintive voices of children, and they groaned, saying:“O Pride, father of Ambition, and you, O Anger, that are the source of cruelty, you slew us on many a battlefield, and caused our death in many a prison and many a torture-chamber, that you might keep your sceptres and your crowns! And you, O Envy, that have destroyed so many useful thoughts while yet in the germ, we are the souls of the inventors whom you have persecuted. Avarice, you it is that have turned the blood of the poor into gold, and we are the souls of your victims. O Luxury, you are the friend and the sister of Murder; Nero, Messalina, Philip King of Spain—such are your children, and you buy virtue and you bribe corruption, and we are the souls of your dead. And you, O Idleness, and you, Greed, you befoul the world, but theworld must be cleansed of you; we are the souls of those who have perished at your hands.”And a voice was heard saying:From the dung-heap flowers arise,Seven are wicked, but seven are good.Bad teacher oft makes pupil wise.Now longs the wandering louse compriseBoth coal and cinder if he could!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 these words the Seven were suddenly transformed into images of wood, though they still lost nothing of their former outline; and a voice was heard saying:“Burn the wood, Ulenspiegel.”And Ulenspiegel turned towards the will-o’-the-wisps:“You that are made of fire, do your office.”And the wisps thronged around the seven images, which straightway burst into flame and were reduced to ashes.And from the ashes there flowed a river of blood.But out of the ashes arose now seven other figures, and the first said:“Once I was called Pride. But now my name is Nobility.”And the rest spake after the same fashion, and Nele and Ulenspiegel saw how Economy came forth from Avarice; Vivacity from Anger; Healthy Appetite from Gluttony; Emulation from Envy; and from Idleness the Dreams of poets andwise men. And Luxury, on her goat, was now transformed into the likeness of a beautiful woman, and her name was Love.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 seaThese 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.”And a powerful hand seized Nele by the arm, and threw her away into the void. And the Spirits sang:When the NorthShall kiss the WestThen shall be the end of ruin.Find the Cincture.“Alas!” cried Ulenspiegel. “North, West, Cincture!You speak in riddles, Sir Spirits!”But they went on with their singing and chattering:The North is the Netherland,Belgium is the West.Cincture is friendship,Cincture is Alliance.“Now you are talking sense, Sir Spirits,” said Ulenspiegel.And yet again they sang:The Cincture, little man,’Twixt Holland and Belgium—Firm Alliance,And beautiful Friendship.Alliance of Counsel,Alliance of Action,By deathBy blood,Were it notFor the Scheldt,Little man, for the Scheldt.“Alas!” said Ulenspiegel, “such is our life! Tears of man and laughter of destiny!”And again the Spirits repeated their rune, and their voices were like the clicking of castanets.Alliance by bloodAnd by deathWere it notFor the Scheldt.And a strong hand took hold of Ulenspiegel and threw him into the void.XXXVAs she fell, Nele rubbed her eyes but she could see nothing save the sun that was rising, wreathed in a golden mist. And then the tips of the grass all golden too, in that radiance which was soon to tinge with gold the plumage of the sea-gulls who slept as yet, but were about to awaken.Nele looked downwards at herself, and seeing that she was naked she put on her clothes with all haste. Then it was that she noticed the body of Ulenspiegel where it lay there, naked also, and him also she covered with his clothes. He seemed to be still asleep and she gave him a shake, but he remained quite motionless like one dead. Then was Nele seized with fear. “Have I killed him?” she cried. “Have I killed my love with this balm of vision? Would that I too might die! Ah, Tyl, wake up! But he is as cold as marble!”Ulenspiegel did not awake, and two nights passed and a day, and Nele still watched by his side in a fever of grief and fear.It was at the dawn of the second day of her vigil that Nele heard the sound of a little bell in the distance, and saw presently a peasant approaching with a shovel in his hand. Behind him came a burgomaster with two aldermen carrying candles, and then the curé of Stavenisse with a beadle holding a parasol over his head. It appeared that they were going to administer the Holy Sacrament of Unction to one Jacobsen, a brave Beggarman, who had adopted the new religion by compulsion, but being about to die had returned to the bosom of the Holy Roman Church.When they came opposite to Nele they found her still crying, and they saw the body of Ulenspiegel laid out on the grass in front of her, covered with clothes. Nele fell upon her knees in front of the little procession.“My girl,” said the burgomaster, “what are you doing by this corpse?”Without daring to raise her eyes, Nele made answer:“I am praying for the soul of my beloved, he that has fallen dead as if struck by lightning. I am alone now, and I am fain to die.”But already the curé was puffing with pleasure.“Ulenspiegel the Beggarman dead!” he cried. “Praise be to God! Be quick there, peasant, and dig a grave, and take his clothes off before you bury him.”“No,” said Nele, getting up from the ground. “No, you shall not take his clothes, he would be cold there in the cold earth.”“Quick!” cried the curé, addressing himself again to the peasant with the shovel.“You may bury him,” said Nele, all in tears. “I give you leave; for this sand is full of lime, so that his body will keep for ever whole and beautiful, the body of my beloved.”And half mad with anguish as she was, Nele bent over the body of Ulenspiegel, kissing him through her tears.Now the burgomaster, the aldermen, and even the peasant had compassion on the girl, but not so the curé, who ceased not to cry out most joyfully: “The great Beggarman is dead! God be praised!”Then the peasant dug the grave, and Ulenspiegel was placed therein, and covered all over with sand.And over the grave the curé said the prayers for the dead, and the others knelt all round. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the sand, and Ulenspiegel arose, sneezing and shaking the sand from his hair, and he seized the curé by the throat.“Inquisitor!” he cried. “I was asleep, and you buried me alive! Where is Nele? Have you buried her also? Who are you?”The curé began to cry out in terror:“The great Beggarman returns to this world! Lord God have mercy on my soul!”And away he fled like a stag before the hounds.Nele came to Ulenspiegel: “Kiss me, dearest,” she said.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.”And they twain departed, Ulenspiegel singing his sixth song. But no man knoweth where he sang his last.The Sixth SongThe Sixth Song

XXXIIIBy sea, by river, in fair weather and foul, through snows of winter and summer’s heat, the ships of the Beggarmen sailed before the breeze. Full-bellied was their canvas and white as the down of swans—white swans of Liberty.But to the King of Blood came the news of their conquests, and death was already at work upon his vitals, and his body was full of worms. And he dragged himself along the corridors of his palace at Valladolid, and he never laughed—not even at daybreak, what time the Sun rose to irradiate all the lands of his empire as with the very smile of God.But Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and Nele sang out like birds, living from day to day, having joy to hear of many a funeral pyre put out by the brave Beggarmen. And Tyl sang five songs, all to the glory of the land of Flanders and to the despite of her enemies.And it came to pass that on a day, having taken the towns of Rammeken, Gertruydenberg, and Alckmaer, the Beggarmen returned to Flushing. And there in the harbour they beheld a little boat moored. And in the boat was a pretty-looking woman with golden-brown hair, brown eyes, fresh cheeks, rounded arms, and white hands. And all at once the woman cried out:“Lamme! Lamme!” And then again: “Ah, but you must not approach me! I have taken a vow before God.... Yet I love you. Ah, my dear husband!”Nele said: “It is Calleken Huysbrechts—the fair Calleken!”“Even so,” answered the woman. “But, alas! the hour of noon has already struck for my beauty.” And she looked very sorrowful.But now Lamme jumped down from the ship into a little skiff, which was straightway brought alongside of the boat wherein was his wife.“What have you been doing?” he asked her. “What has been happening to you? Why did you leave me? And why now do you make as though you would have none of me?”Then Calleken told him, in a voice that oftentimes trembled with tears, how that she had entrusted the care of her soul to a monk, one Brother Cornelis Adriaensen, and how he had warned her against her husband for that he was a heretic and a consorter with heretics. How also by his eloquence he had persuaded her that a life of celibacy was most pleasing unto God and his saints, albeit he oftentimes profaned the holy confessional with many a penance that was most distressful to her modesty. “Nevertheless,” she ended, “I swear before God that I remained ever faithful to you, my husband, for I loved you.”But Lamme gazed upon her sadly and reproachfully, so that Nele said to him:“If Calleken has been faithful as she says, it behoves her now to leave you in very deed, as a punishment for your unkindness.”“He knows not how I love him,” said Calleken.“Is this the truth?” cried Lamme. And then seeing that it was so: “Then come, wife,” he cried, “the winter is over!”Thereafter, having given and received from all the kiss of peace: “Come now,” cried Lamme, “come, wife, with me. For now is the hour of lawful loves!”And together they sailed away in their little boat.Meanwhile the soldiers, the sailors, and the ship’s boys that stood around, all waved their caps in the air and shouted: “Adieu, brother! Adieu, Lamme! Adieu, brother—brother and friend!”And Nele removed with the tip of her sweet finger a tear that had settled in the corner of the eye of Ulenspiegel.“You are sad, my love?” she asked him.“He was good,” Tyl said.Nele sighed.“Ah! This war—will it never end? Must we live for ever thus, in the midst of blood and tears?”“Let us seek the Seven,” said Ulenspiegel. “The hour of deliverance is at hand.”XXXIVIt was the season of harvest. The air was heavy, the wind warm. They that gathered the harvest were able now to reap at their ease, under a free sky and from a free soil, the corn they had sown.Frise, Drenthe, Overyssel, Gueldre, Utrecht, NoordBrabant, Noord and Zuid Holland; Walcheren, Noord and Zuid Beveland; Duiveland and Schouwen which together make up Zeeland; the sea-bordering lands to the north from Knokke to Helder; the isles of Texel, Vlieland, Ameland, and Schiermonik Oog—all were being delivered from the Spanish yoke, from the Eastern Scheldt to the Oost Ems. And Maurice, the son of William the Silent, was continuing the war.Ulenspiegel and Nele kept still their youthfulness, their strength and their beauty, for the Love and the Spirit of Flanders never grow old. And they lived happily at the Tower of Neere, waiting for that day when, after so many cruel trials, they would be able to breathe the breath of liberty upon their native land of Belgium.Ulenspiegel had asked to be made governor and guardian of the Tower. For he had, so he said, the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a hare, and so he would be able to see at once if the Spaniard ever dared to show himself again in the lands that had been delivered from his yoke. Then quickly would he sound thewacharm, the alarm-bell as we call it in our tongue.To this request the magistrate consented, and in virtueof the good service he had rendered, Ulenspiegel was allowed a florin every day, two pints of beer, a ration of beans, cheese, biscuits, and three pounds of beef weekly.And so did Ulenspiegel and Nele live on the Tower together very happily, having joy to see in the distance the free isles of Zeeland, and near at hand the woods and castles and fortresses, and the armed ships of the Beggarmen that guarded the coast.At night they would often mount to the top of the Tower, and there they would sit together on the flat roof, talking of many a stern battle and telling many a tale of love, past and to come. And from their Tower they could see the ocean, which, when the weather was hot, furled and unfurled along the shore its shining waves, and threw them upon the island-coasts like wraiths of fire. And among the polders the will-o’-the-wisps would come a-dancing. And Nele was afraid of them, for she said they were the souls of the poor dead. And true it was that all those places where they danced had once been fields of battle. And the will-o’-the-wisps would oftentimes spring forth from the polders, and run along the dikes, and then return again to the polders, as though unwilling to leave the bodies whence they had come.One night Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Behold how many spirits there are in Dreiveland, and how high they fly! Over there by the Isle of Birds they seem to crowd the thickest. Will you come with me there one night, Tyl? We would take with us the balm that can show us things invisible to mortal eyes.”But Ulenspiegel answered:“If you mean the balm we took when we went to the great Sabbath of Spring, I have no more faith or confidence in what we saw there than in any idle dream.”“It is wrong to deny the power of charms,” said Nele. “Come, Ulenspiegel!”“Very well,” he said.The next day Ulenspiegel arranged with the magistrate that one of the soldiers who had clear sight and a faithful heart should take his place at the Tower for that one evening. And away he went with Nele towards the Isle of Birds.They passed along by many a field and dike, till at last they saw the sea in front of them, and in it were set many little green islands with the waves coursing in between. And all about the grassy hills, which soon began to lose themselves in the sand-dunes, a great quantity of peewits were flying high and low, and sea-gulls and sea-swallows. Some of these birds would crowd together on the surface of the sea, and stay there quite still, so that they looked like little white islets; and above them and about flew thousands of their fellows. The very soil itself was full of their nests, and Ulenspiegel stooped down to pick up one of their eggs which was lying on the road. No sooner had he done so than a sea-gull came flapping towards him, crying out the while most dolefully. And in answer to this summons there flew up a hundred other sea-gulls, crying out as if in anguish, hovering about the head of Ulenspiegel and over the neighbouring nests. But they did not dare to approach him.“Ulenspiegel,” said Nele, “these birds are asking you to have mercy on their eggs.”Then she began to tremble, and said:“I am afraid. Behold, the sun is setting, the sky is pale, the stars are awakening, it is the hour of the spirits. And look at these ruddy exhalations which rise all about us and seem as it were to trail along the ground. Tyl, my beloved, what monster from hell may he be who thus in the mist begins to open his fiery mouth? And look over there towards Philipsland. It was there that the murderer king had all those poor men done to death, not once but twice, and all for the sake of his cruel ambition! 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 allcold 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. “By the power of the balm it may be you will see them.”“Maybe,” said Ulenspiegel, “if some spirit, forsooth, would come down to visit us from that cold star.” And he pointed with his finger to the star Sirius.No sooner had he made this gesture than a will-o’-the-wisp that had been flying round them came and attached itself to his finger, and the more Ulenspiegel tried to shake it off the firmer the little wisp held on. Nele tried to free Ulenspiegel, but now she also had a little wisp firm on the tip of her finger, and neither would it let her go. 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? For you have none, my sweet! Or wait they, perhaps, till they come to blessed Paradise ere taking upon themselves a human form?”“Why waste time in talking to a peevish little flame that has no ears to hear with, no mouth wherewith to answer?” said Ulenspiegel.But paying no attention to him, Nele went on:“Wisp of mine, answer me now by dancing. For I am going to question you thrice. Once in the name of God, once in the name of Our Lady, and once in the name of the Elemental Spirits who are the messengers between God and men.”And this she did, and three times did the elf dance in answer.Then Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Take off your clothes, and I will do the same. See, here is the silver box which holds the balm of vision.”“Be it as you wish,” answered Ulenspiegel.When they had undressed and anointed themselves with the balm of vision, they lay down naked as they were beside one another on the grass.The sea-gulls screamed; the thunder growled and rumbled, and in the darkness the lightning flashed. Between two clouds the moon scarcely showed her crescent’s golden horns; and the will-o’-the-wisps departed from Nele and Ulenspiegel to go off dancing with their comrades in the fields.Suddenly a great giant hand took hold of Nele and her lover, and threw them high in air as though they had been a child’s playthings. Then the giant caught them again, rolled them one on the other and kneaded them between his hands, and after that he threw them into a pool of water that lay between the hills, and last of all he dragged them out again full of water and water-weeds. And the giant began to sing in a voice so loud that all the sea-gulls of the islands awakened in terror:With eyes that squint they would discern,These silly, wandering insect-mortals,The sacred symbols none may learn,Safe guarded now within our portalsRead then, flea, the mystery high,Read then, louse, the secret vast,Which to earth and air and skyBy seven nails is anchored fast!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.Pope of Popes, King of Kings,Fashioned of wood he is Lord of All Things.Suddenly the lines of the giant’s face suffered a change. He seemed thinner, sadder and greater than ever. And in one hand he held a sceptre, and in the other a sword. And his name was Pride.And throwing Nele and Ulenspiegel to the ground, he said:“I am God.”Then by his side there appeared a ruddy-faced girl, and she was seated on the back of a goat, and her bosom was bare, her gown half open, and she had a wanton eye; and her name was Luxury. After her there came an old woman,a Jewess, who was busy all the time, scraping up the egg-shells of the sea-gulls that lay about on the ground; and her name was Avarice. Then a monk appeared, most greedy and gluttonous, eating chitterlings he was, and cramming himself with sausages and champing his jaws together without ceasing, like the sow whereon he rode; and his name was Greed. Thereafter came Idleness, dragging one leg after the other; wan she was and bloated, and she had a dull eye. And Anger came chasing after Idleness with a sharp needle with which she pricked her so that she cried aloud, and Idleness grieved and lamented with many tears, and kept falling down on to her knees so tired she was. Last of all came Envy, a thin figure with a head like a viper and teeth like the teeth of a pike. And she kept biting all the others with those cruel teeth of hers—Idleness because she had too much leisure, Anger because she was too lively, Greed because he was too well fed, Luxury because she was too ruddy, Avarice because of the treasure of shells she had amassed, Pride because of his robe of purple and his crown. And the wisps kept dancing all around, and they spake with many voices like the voices of men, women, and girls, and in the plaintive voices of children, and they groaned, saying:“O Pride, father of Ambition, and you, O Anger, that are the source of cruelty, you slew us on many a battlefield, and caused our death in many a prison and many a torture-chamber, that you might keep your sceptres and your crowns! And you, O Envy, that have destroyed so many useful thoughts while yet in the germ, we are the souls of the inventors whom you have persecuted. Avarice, you it is that have turned the blood of the poor into gold, and we are the souls of your victims. O Luxury, you are the friend and the sister of Murder; Nero, Messalina, Philip King of Spain—such are your children, and you buy virtue and you bribe corruption, and we are the souls of your dead. And you, O Idleness, and you, Greed, you befoul the world, but theworld must be cleansed of you; we are the souls of those who have perished at your hands.”And a voice was heard saying:From the dung-heap flowers arise,Seven are wicked, but seven are good.Bad teacher oft makes pupil wise.Now longs the wandering louse compriseBoth coal and cinder if he could!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 these words the Seven were suddenly transformed into images of wood, though they still lost nothing of their former outline; and a voice was heard saying:“Burn the wood, Ulenspiegel.”And Ulenspiegel turned towards the will-o’-the-wisps:“You that are made of fire, do your office.”And the wisps thronged around the seven images, which straightway burst into flame and were reduced to ashes.And from the ashes there flowed a river of blood.But out of the ashes arose now seven other figures, and the first said:“Once I was called Pride. But now my name is Nobility.”And the rest spake after the same fashion, and Nele and Ulenspiegel saw how Economy came forth from Avarice; Vivacity from Anger; Healthy Appetite from Gluttony; Emulation from Envy; and from Idleness the Dreams of poets andwise men. And Luxury, on her goat, was now transformed into the likeness of a beautiful woman, and her name was Love.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 seaThese 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.”And a powerful hand seized Nele by the arm, and threw her away into the void. And the Spirits sang:When the NorthShall kiss the WestThen shall be the end of ruin.Find the Cincture.“Alas!” cried Ulenspiegel. “North, West, Cincture!You speak in riddles, Sir Spirits!”But they went on with their singing and chattering:The North is the Netherland,Belgium is the West.Cincture is friendship,Cincture is Alliance.“Now you are talking sense, Sir Spirits,” said Ulenspiegel.And yet again they sang:The Cincture, little man,’Twixt Holland and Belgium—Firm Alliance,And beautiful Friendship.Alliance of Counsel,Alliance of Action,By deathBy blood,Were it notFor the Scheldt,Little man, for the Scheldt.“Alas!” said Ulenspiegel, “such is our life! Tears of man and laughter of destiny!”And again the Spirits repeated their rune, and their voices were like the clicking of castanets.Alliance by bloodAnd by deathWere it notFor the Scheldt.And a strong hand took hold of Ulenspiegel and threw him into the void.XXXVAs she fell, Nele rubbed her eyes but she could see nothing save the sun that was rising, wreathed in a golden mist. And then the tips of the grass all golden too, in that radiance which was soon to tinge with gold the plumage of the sea-gulls who slept as yet, but were about to awaken.Nele looked downwards at herself, and seeing that she was naked she put on her clothes with all haste. Then it was that she noticed the body of Ulenspiegel where it lay there, naked also, and him also she covered with his clothes. He seemed to be still asleep and she gave him a shake, but he remained quite motionless like one dead. Then was Nele seized with fear. “Have I killed him?” she cried. “Have I killed my love with this balm of vision? Would that I too might die! Ah, Tyl, wake up! But he is as cold as marble!”Ulenspiegel did not awake, and two nights passed and a day, and Nele still watched by his side in a fever of grief and fear.It was at the dawn of the second day of her vigil that Nele heard the sound of a little bell in the distance, and saw presently a peasant approaching with a shovel in his hand. Behind him came a burgomaster with two aldermen carrying candles, and then the curé of Stavenisse with a beadle holding a parasol over his head. It appeared that they were going to administer the Holy Sacrament of Unction to one Jacobsen, a brave Beggarman, who had adopted the new religion by compulsion, but being about to die had returned to the bosom of the Holy Roman Church.When they came opposite to Nele they found her still crying, and they saw the body of Ulenspiegel laid out on the grass in front of her, covered with clothes. Nele fell upon her knees in front of the little procession.“My girl,” said the burgomaster, “what are you doing by this corpse?”Without daring to raise her eyes, Nele made answer:“I am praying for the soul of my beloved, he that has fallen dead as if struck by lightning. I am alone now, and I am fain to die.”But already the curé was puffing with pleasure.“Ulenspiegel the Beggarman dead!” he cried. “Praise be to God! Be quick there, peasant, and dig a grave, and take his clothes off before you bury him.”“No,” said Nele, getting up from the ground. “No, you shall not take his clothes, he would be cold there in the cold earth.”“Quick!” cried the curé, addressing himself again to the peasant with the shovel.“You may bury him,” said Nele, all in tears. “I give you leave; for this sand is full of lime, so that his body will keep for ever whole and beautiful, the body of my beloved.”And half mad with anguish as she was, Nele bent over the body of Ulenspiegel, kissing him through her tears.Now the burgomaster, the aldermen, and even the peasant had compassion on the girl, but not so the curé, who ceased not to cry out most joyfully: “The great Beggarman is dead! God be praised!”Then the peasant dug the grave, and Ulenspiegel was placed therein, and covered all over with sand.And over the grave the curé said the prayers for the dead, and the others knelt all round. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the sand, and Ulenspiegel arose, sneezing and shaking the sand from his hair, and he seized the curé by the throat.“Inquisitor!” he cried. “I was asleep, and you buried me alive! Where is Nele? Have you buried her also? Who are you?”The curé began to cry out in terror:“The great Beggarman returns to this world! Lord God have mercy on my soul!”And away he fled like a stag before the hounds.Nele came to Ulenspiegel: “Kiss me, dearest,” she said.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.”And they twain departed, Ulenspiegel singing his sixth song. But no man knoweth where he sang his last.The Sixth SongThe Sixth Song

XXXIIIBy sea, by river, in fair weather and foul, through snows of winter and summer’s heat, the ships of the Beggarmen sailed before the breeze. Full-bellied was their canvas and white as the down of swans—white swans of Liberty.But to the King of Blood came the news of their conquests, and death was already at work upon his vitals, and his body was full of worms. And he dragged himself along the corridors of his palace at Valladolid, and he never laughed—not even at daybreak, what time the Sun rose to irradiate all the lands of his empire as with the very smile of God.But Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and Nele sang out like birds, living from day to day, having joy to hear of many a funeral pyre put out by the brave Beggarmen. And Tyl sang five songs, all to the glory of the land of Flanders and to the despite of her enemies.And it came to pass that on a day, having taken the towns of Rammeken, Gertruydenberg, and Alckmaer, the Beggarmen returned to Flushing. And there in the harbour they beheld a little boat moored. And in the boat was a pretty-looking woman with golden-brown hair, brown eyes, fresh cheeks, rounded arms, and white hands. And all at once the woman cried out:“Lamme! Lamme!” And then again: “Ah, but you must not approach me! I have taken a vow before God.... Yet I love you. Ah, my dear husband!”Nele said: “It is Calleken Huysbrechts—the fair Calleken!”“Even so,” answered the woman. “But, alas! the hour of noon has already struck for my beauty.” And she looked very sorrowful.But now Lamme jumped down from the ship into a little skiff, which was straightway brought alongside of the boat wherein was his wife.“What have you been doing?” he asked her. “What has been happening to you? Why did you leave me? And why now do you make as though you would have none of me?”Then Calleken told him, in a voice that oftentimes trembled with tears, how that she had entrusted the care of her soul to a monk, one Brother Cornelis Adriaensen, and how he had warned her against her husband for that he was a heretic and a consorter with heretics. How also by his eloquence he had persuaded her that a life of celibacy was most pleasing unto God and his saints, albeit he oftentimes profaned the holy confessional with many a penance that was most distressful to her modesty. “Nevertheless,” she ended, “I swear before God that I remained ever faithful to you, my husband, for I loved you.”But Lamme gazed upon her sadly and reproachfully, so that Nele said to him:“If Calleken has been faithful as she says, it behoves her now to leave you in very deed, as a punishment for your unkindness.”“He knows not how I love him,” said Calleken.“Is this the truth?” cried Lamme. And then seeing that it was so: “Then come, wife,” he cried, “the winter is over!”Thereafter, having given and received from all the kiss of peace: “Come now,” cried Lamme, “come, wife, with me. For now is the hour of lawful loves!”And together they sailed away in their little boat.Meanwhile the soldiers, the sailors, and the ship’s boys that stood around, all waved their caps in the air and shouted: “Adieu, brother! Adieu, Lamme! Adieu, brother—brother and friend!”And Nele removed with the tip of her sweet finger a tear that had settled in the corner of the eye of Ulenspiegel.“You are sad, my love?” she asked him.“He was good,” Tyl said.Nele sighed.“Ah! This war—will it never end? Must we live for ever thus, in the midst of blood and tears?”“Let us seek the Seven,” said Ulenspiegel. “The hour of deliverance is at hand.”

XXXIII

By sea, by river, in fair weather and foul, through snows of winter and summer’s heat, the ships of the Beggarmen sailed before the breeze. Full-bellied was their canvas and white as the down of swans—white swans of Liberty.But to the King of Blood came the news of their conquests, and death was already at work upon his vitals, and his body was full of worms. And he dragged himself along the corridors of his palace at Valladolid, and he never laughed—not even at daybreak, what time the Sun rose to irradiate all the lands of his empire as with the very smile of God.But Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and Nele sang out like birds, living from day to day, having joy to hear of many a funeral pyre put out by the brave Beggarmen. And Tyl sang five songs, all to the glory of the land of Flanders and to the despite of her enemies.And it came to pass that on a day, having taken the towns of Rammeken, Gertruydenberg, and Alckmaer, the Beggarmen returned to Flushing. And there in the harbour they beheld a little boat moored. And in the boat was a pretty-looking woman with golden-brown hair, brown eyes, fresh cheeks, rounded arms, and white hands. And all at once the woman cried out:“Lamme! Lamme!” And then again: “Ah, but you must not approach me! I have taken a vow before God.... Yet I love you. Ah, my dear husband!”Nele said: “It is Calleken Huysbrechts—the fair Calleken!”“Even so,” answered the woman. “But, alas! the hour of noon has already struck for my beauty.” And she looked very sorrowful.But now Lamme jumped down from the ship into a little skiff, which was straightway brought alongside of the boat wherein was his wife.“What have you been doing?” he asked her. “What has been happening to you? Why did you leave me? And why now do you make as though you would have none of me?”Then Calleken told him, in a voice that oftentimes trembled with tears, how that she had entrusted the care of her soul to a monk, one Brother Cornelis Adriaensen, and how he had warned her against her husband for that he was a heretic and a consorter with heretics. How also by his eloquence he had persuaded her that a life of celibacy was most pleasing unto God and his saints, albeit he oftentimes profaned the holy confessional with many a penance that was most distressful to her modesty. “Nevertheless,” she ended, “I swear before God that I remained ever faithful to you, my husband, for I loved you.”But Lamme gazed upon her sadly and reproachfully, so that Nele said to him:“If Calleken has been faithful as she says, it behoves her now to leave you in very deed, as a punishment for your unkindness.”“He knows not how I love him,” said Calleken.“Is this the truth?” cried Lamme. And then seeing that it was so: “Then come, wife,” he cried, “the winter is over!”Thereafter, having given and received from all the kiss of peace: “Come now,” cried Lamme, “come, wife, with me. For now is the hour of lawful loves!”And together they sailed away in their little boat.Meanwhile the soldiers, the sailors, and the ship’s boys that stood around, all waved their caps in the air and shouted: “Adieu, brother! Adieu, Lamme! Adieu, brother—brother and friend!”And Nele removed with the tip of her sweet finger a tear that had settled in the corner of the eye of Ulenspiegel.“You are sad, my love?” she asked him.“He was good,” Tyl said.Nele sighed.“Ah! This war—will it never end? Must we live for ever thus, in the midst of blood and tears?”“Let us seek the Seven,” said Ulenspiegel. “The hour of deliverance is at hand.”

By sea, by river, in fair weather and foul, through snows of winter and summer’s heat, the ships of the Beggarmen sailed before the breeze. Full-bellied was their canvas and white as the down of swans—white swans of Liberty.

But to the King of Blood came the news of their conquests, and death was already at work upon his vitals, and his body was full of worms. And he dragged himself along the corridors of his palace at Valladolid, and he never laughed—not even at daybreak, what time the Sun rose to irradiate all the lands of his empire as with the very smile of God.

But Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and Nele sang out like birds, living from day to day, having joy to hear of many a funeral pyre put out by the brave Beggarmen. And Tyl sang five songs, all to the glory of the land of Flanders and to the despite of her enemies.

And it came to pass that on a day, having taken the towns of Rammeken, Gertruydenberg, and Alckmaer, the Beggarmen returned to Flushing. And there in the harbour they beheld a little boat moored. And in the boat was a pretty-looking woman with golden-brown hair, brown eyes, fresh cheeks, rounded arms, and white hands. And all at once the woman cried out:

“Lamme! Lamme!” And then again: “Ah, but you must not approach me! I have taken a vow before God.... Yet I love you. Ah, my dear husband!”

Nele said: “It is Calleken Huysbrechts—the fair Calleken!”

“Even so,” answered the woman. “But, alas! the hour of noon has already struck for my beauty.” And she looked very sorrowful.

But now Lamme jumped down from the ship into a little skiff, which was straightway brought alongside of the boat wherein was his wife.

“What have you been doing?” he asked her. “What has been happening to you? Why did you leave me? And why now do you make as though you would have none of me?”

Then Calleken told him, in a voice that oftentimes trembled with tears, how that she had entrusted the care of her soul to a monk, one Brother Cornelis Adriaensen, and how he had warned her against her husband for that he was a heretic and a consorter with heretics. How also by his eloquence he had persuaded her that a life of celibacy was most pleasing unto God and his saints, albeit he oftentimes profaned the holy confessional with many a penance that was most distressful to her modesty. “Nevertheless,” she ended, “I swear before God that I remained ever faithful to you, my husband, for I loved you.”

But Lamme gazed upon her sadly and reproachfully, so that Nele said to him:

“If Calleken has been faithful as she says, it behoves her now to leave you in very deed, as a punishment for your unkindness.”

“He knows not how I love him,” said Calleken.

“Is this the truth?” cried Lamme. And then seeing that it was so: “Then come, wife,” he cried, “the winter is over!”

Thereafter, having given and received from all the kiss of peace: “Come now,” cried Lamme, “come, wife, with me. For now is the hour of lawful loves!”

And together they sailed away in their little boat.

Meanwhile the soldiers, the sailors, and the ship’s boys that stood around, all waved their caps in the air and shouted: “Adieu, brother! Adieu, Lamme! Adieu, brother—brother and friend!”

And Nele removed with the tip of her sweet finger a tear that had settled in the corner of the eye of Ulenspiegel.

“You are sad, my love?” she asked him.

“He was good,” Tyl said.

Nele sighed.

“Ah! This war—will it never end? Must we live for ever thus, in the midst of blood and tears?”

“Let us seek the Seven,” said Ulenspiegel. “The hour of deliverance is at hand.”

XXXIVIt was the season of harvest. The air was heavy, the wind warm. They that gathered the harvest were able now to reap at their ease, under a free sky and from a free soil, the corn they had sown.Frise, Drenthe, Overyssel, Gueldre, Utrecht, NoordBrabant, Noord and Zuid Holland; Walcheren, Noord and Zuid Beveland; Duiveland and Schouwen which together make up Zeeland; the sea-bordering lands to the north from Knokke to Helder; the isles of Texel, Vlieland, Ameland, and Schiermonik Oog—all were being delivered from the Spanish yoke, from the Eastern Scheldt to the Oost Ems. And Maurice, the son of William the Silent, was continuing the war.Ulenspiegel and Nele kept still their youthfulness, their strength and their beauty, for the Love and the Spirit of Flanders never grow old. And they lived happily at the Tower of Neere, waiting for that day when, after so many cruel trials, they would be able to breathe the breath of liberty upon their native land of Belgium.Ulenspiegel had asked to be made governor and guardian of the Tower. For he had, so he said, the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a hare, and so he would be able to see at once if the Spaniard ever dared to show himself again in the lands that had been delivered from his yoke. Then quickly would he sound thewacharm, the alarm-bell as we call it in our tongue.To this request the magistrate consented, and in virtueof the good service he had rendered, Ulenspiegel was allowed a florin every day, two pints of beer, a ration of beans, cheese, biscuits, and three pounds of beef weekly.And so did Ulenspiegel and Nele live on the Tower together very happily, having joy to see in the distance the free isles of Zeeland, and near at hand the woods and castles and fortresses, and the armed ships of the Beggarmen that guarded the coast.At night they would often mount to the top of the Tower, and there they would sit together on the flat roof, talking of many a stern battle and telling many a tale of love, past and to come. And from their Tower they could see the ocean, which, when the weather was hot, furled and unfurled along the shore its shining waves, and threw them upon the island-coasts like wraiths of fire. And among the polders the will-o’-the-wisps would come a-dancing. And Nele was afraid of them, for she said they were the souls of the poor dead. And true it was that all those places where they danced had once been fields of battle. And the will-o’-the-wisps would oftentimes spring forth from the polders, and run along the dikes, and then return again to the polders, as though unwilling to leave the bodies whence they had come.One night Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Behold how many spirits there are in Dreiveland, and how high they fly! Over there by the Isle of Birds they seem to crowd the thickest. Will you come with me there one night, Tyl? We would take with us the balm that can show us things invisible to mortal eyes.”But Ulenspiegel answered:“If you mean the balm we took when we went to the great Sabbath of Spring, I have no more faith or confidence in what we saw there than in any idle dream.”“It is wrong to deny the power of charms,” said Nele. “Come, Ulenspiegel!”“Very well,” he said.The next day Ulenspiegel arranged with the magistrate that one of the soldiers who had clear sight and a faithful heart should take his place at the Tower for that one evening. And away he went with Nele towards the Isle of Birds.They passed along by many a field and dike, till at last they saw the sea in front of them, and in it were set many little green islands with the waves coursing in between. And all about the grassy hills, which soon began to lose themselves in the sand-dunes, a great quantity of peewits were flying high and low, and sea-gulls and sea-swallows. Some of these birds would crowd together on the surface of the sea, and stay there quite still, so that they looked like little white islets; and above them and about flew thousands of their fellows. The very soil itself was full of their nests, and Ulenspiegel stooped down to pick up one of their eggs which was lying on the road. No sooner had he done so than a sea-gull came flapping towards him, crying out the while most dolefully. And in answer to this summons there flew up a hundred other sea-gulls, crying out as if in anguish, hovering about the head of Ulenspiegel and over the neighbouring nests. But they did not dare to approach him.“Ulenspiegel,” said Nele, “these birds are asking you to have mercy on their eggs.”Then she began to tremble, and said:“I am afraid. Behold, the sun is setting, the sky is pale, the stars are awakening, it is the hour of the spirits. And look at these ruddy exhalations which rise all about us and seem as it were to trail along the ground. Tyl, my beloved, what monster from hell may he be who thus in the mist begins to open his fiery mouth? And look over there towards Philipsland. It was there that the murderer king had all those poor men done to death, not once but twice, and all for the sake of his cruel ambition! 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 allcold 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. “By the power of the balm it may be you will see them.”“Maybe,” said Ulenspiegel, “if some spirit, forsooth, would come down to visit us from that cold star.” And he pointed with his finger to the star Sirius.No sooner had he made this gesture than a will-o’-the-wisp that had been flying round them came and attached itself to his finger, and the more Ulenspiegel tried to shake it off the firmer the little wisp held on. Nele tried to free Ulenspiegel, but now she also had a little wisp firm on the tip of her finger, and neither would it let her go. 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? For you have none, my sweet! Or wait they, perhaps, till they come to blessed Paradise ere taking upon themselves a human form?”“Why waste time in talking to a peevish little flame that has no ears to hear with, no mouth wherewith to answer?” said Ulenspiegel.But paying no attention to him, Nele went on:“Wisp of mine, answer me now by dancing. For I am going to question you thrice. Once in the name of God, once in the name of Our Lady, and once in the name of the Elemental Spirits who are the messengers between God and men.”And this she did, and three times did the elf dance in answer.Then Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Take off your clothes, and I will do the same. See, here is the silver box which holds the balm of vision.”“Be it as you wish,” answered Ulenspiegel.When they had undressed and anointed themselves with the balm of vision, they lay down naked as they were beside one another on the grass.The sea-gulls screamed; the thunder growled and rumbled, and in the darkness the lightning flashed. Between two clouds the moon scarcely showed her crescent’s golden horns; and the will-o’-the-wisps departed from Nele and Ulenspiegel to go off dancing with their comrades in the fields.Suddenly a great giant hand took hold of Nele and her lover, and threw them high in air as though they had been a child’s playthings. Then the giant caught them again, rolled them one on the other and kneaded them between his hands, and after that he threw them into a pool of water that lay between the hills, and last of all he dragged them out again full of water and water-weeds. And the giant began to sing in a voice so loud that all the sea-gulls of the islands awakened in terror:With eyes that squint they would discern,These silly, wandering insect-mortals,The sacred symbols none may learn,Safe guarded now within our portalsRead then, flea, the mystery high,Read then, louse, the secret vast,Which to earth and air and skyBy seven nails is anchored fast!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.Pope of Popes, King of Kings,Fashioned of wood he is Lord of All Things.Suddenly the lines of the giant’s face suffered a change. He seemed thinner, sadder and greater than ever. And in one hand he held a sceptre, and in the other a sword. And his name was Pride.And throwing Nele and Ulenspiegel to the ground, he said:“I am God.”Then by his side there appeared a ruddy-faced girl, and she was seated on the back of a goat, and her bosom was bare, her gown half open, and she had a wanton eye; and her name was Luxury. After her there came an old woman,a Jewess, who was busy all the time, scraping up the egg-shells of the sea-gulls that lay about on the ground; and her name was Avarice. Then a monk appeared, most greedy and gluttonous, eating chitterlings he was, and cramming himself with sausages and champing his jaws together without ceasing, like the sow whereon he rode; and his name was Greed. Thereafter came Idleness, dragging one leg after the other; wan she was and bloated, and she had a dull eye. And Anger came chasing after Idleness with a sharp needle with which she pricked her so that she cried aloud, and Idleness grieved and lamented with many tears, and kept falling down on to her knees so tired she was. Last of all came Envy, a thin figure with a head like a viper and teeth like the teeth of a pike. And she kept biting all the others with those cruel teeth of hers—Idleness because she had too much leisure, Anger because she was too lively, Greed because he was too well fed, Luxury because she was too ruddy, Avarice because of the treasure of shells she had amassed, Pride because of his robe of purple and his crown. And the wisps kept dancing all around, and they spake with many voices like the voices of men, women, and girls, and in the plaintive voices of children, and they groaned, saying:“O Pride, father of Ambition, and you, O Anger, that are the source of cruelty, you slew us on many a battlefield, and caused our death in many a prison and many a torture-chamber, that you might keep your sceptres and your crowns! And you, O Envy, that have destroyed so many useful thoughts while yet in the germ, we are the souls of the inventors whom you have persecuted. Avarice, you it is that have turned the blood of the poor into gold, and we are the souls of your victims. O Luxury, you are the friend and the sister of Murder; Nero, Messalina, Philip King of Spain—such are your children, and you buy virtue and you bribe corruption, and we are the souls of your dead. And you, O Idleness, and you, Greed, you befoul the world, but theworld must be cleansed of you; we are the souls of those who have perished at your hands.”And a voice was heard saying:From the dung-heap flowers arise,Seven are wicked, but seven are good.Bad teacher oft makes pupil wise.Now longs the wandering louse compriseBoth coal and cinder if he could!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 these words the Seven were suddenly transformed into images of wood, though they still lost nothing of their former outline; and a voice was heard saying:“Burn the wood, Ulenspiegel.”And Ulenspiegel turned towards the will-o’-the-wisps:“You that are made of fire, do your office.”And the wisps thronged around the seven images, which straightway burst into flame and were reduced to ashes.And from the ashes there flowed a river of blood.But out of the ashes arose now seven other figures, and the first said:“Once I was called Pride. But now my name is Nobility.”And the rest spake after the same fashion, and Nele and Ulenspiegel saw how Economy came forth from Avarice; Vivacity from Anger; Healthy Appetite from Gluttony; Emulation from Envy; and from Idleness the Dreams of poets andwise men. And Luxury, on her goat, was now transformed into the likeness of a beautiful woman, and her name was Love.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 seaThese 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.”And a powerful hand seized Nele by the arm, and threw her away into the void. And the Spirits sang:When the NorthShall kiss the WestThen shall be the end of ruin.Find the Cincture.“Alas!” cried Ulenspiegel. “North, West, Cincture!You speak in riddles, Sir Spirits!”But they went on with their singing and chattering:The North is the Netherland,Belgium is the West.Cincture is friendship,Cincture is Alliance.“Now you are talking sense, Sir Spirits,” said Ulenspiegel.And yet again they sang:The Cincture, little man,’Twixt Holland and Belgium—Firm Alliance,And beautiful Friendship.Alliance of Counsel,Alliance of Action,By deathBy blood,Were it notFor the Scheldt,Little man, for the Scheldt.“Alas!” said Ulenspiegel, “such is our life! Tears of man and laughter of destiny!”And again the Spirits repeated their rune, and their voices were like the clicking of castanets.Alliance by bloodAnd by deathWere it notFor the Scheldt.And a strong hand took hold of Ulenspiegel and threw him into the void.

XXXIV

It was the season of harvest. The air was heavy, the wind warm. They that gathered the harvest were able now to reap at their ease, under a free sky and from a free soil, the corn they had sown.Frise, Drenthe, Overyssel, Gueldre, Utrecht, NoordBrabant, Noord and Zuid Holland; Walcheren, Noord and Zuid Beveland; Duiveland and Schouwen which together make up Zeeland; the sea-bordering lands to the north from Knokke to Helder; the isles of Texel, Vlieland, Ameland, and Schiermonik Oog—all were being delivered from the Spanish yoke, from the Eastern Scheldt to the Oost Ems. And Maurice, the son of William the Silent, was continuing the war.Ulenspiegel and Nele kept still their youthfulness, their strength and their beauty, for the Love and the Spirit of Flanders never grow old. And they lived happily at the Tower of Neere, waiting for that day when, after so many cruel trials, they would be able to breathe the breath of liberty upon their native land of Belgium.Ulenspiegel had asked to be made governor and guardian of the Tower. For he had, so he said, the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a hare, and so he would be able to see at once if the Spaniard ever dared to show himself again in the lands that had been delivered from his yoke. Then quickly would he sound thewacharm, the alarm-bell as we call it in our tongue.To this request the magistrate consented, and in virtueof the good service he had rendered, Ulenspiegel was allowed a florin every day, two pints of beer, a ration of beans, cheese, biscuits, and three pounds of beef weekly.And so did Ulenspiegel and Nele live on the Tower together very happily, having joy to see in the distance the free isles of Zeeland, and near at hand the woods and castles and fortresses, and the armed ships of the Beggarmen that guarded the coast.At night they would often mount to the top of the Tower, and there they would sit together on the flat roof, talking of many a stern battle and telling many a tale of love, past and to come. And from their Tower they could see the ocean, which, when the weather was hot, furled and unfurled along the shore its shining waves, and threw them upon the island-coasts like wraiths of fire. And among the polders the will-o’-the-wisps would come a-dancing. And Nele was afraid of them, for she said they were the souls of the poor dead. And true it was that all those places where they danced had once been fields of battle. And the will-o’-the-wisps would oftentimes spring forth from the polders, and run along the dikes, and then return again to the polders, as though unwilling to leave the bodies whence they had come.One night Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Behold how many spirits there are in Dreiveland, and how high they fly! Over there by the Isle of Birds they seem to crowd the thickest. Will you come with me there one night, Tyl? We would take with us the balm that can show us things invisible to mortal eyes.”But Ulenspiegel answered:“If you mean the balm we took when we went to the great Sabbath of Spring, I have no more faith or confidence in what we saw there than in any idle dream.”“It is wrong to deny the power of charms,” said Nele. “Come, Ulenspiegel!”“Very well,” he said.The next day Ulenspiegel arranged with the magistrate that one of the soldiers who had clear sight and a faithful heart should take his place at the Tower for that one evening. And away he went with Nele towards the Isle of Birds.They passed along by many a field and dike, till at last they saw the sea in front of them, and in it were set many little green islands with the waves coursing in between. And all about the grassy hills, which soon began to lose themselves in the sand-dunes, a great quantity of peewits were flying high and low, and sea-gulls and sea-swallows. Some of these birds would crowd together on the surface of the sea, and stay there quite still, so that they looked like little white islets; and above them and about flew thousands of their fellows. The very soil itself was full of their nests, and Ulenspiegel stooped down to pick up one of their eggs which was lying on the road. No sooner had he done so than a sea-gull came flapping towards him, crying out the while most dolefully. And in answer to this summons there flew up a hundred other sea-gulls, crying out as if in anguish, hovering about the head of Ulenspiegel and over the neighbouring nests. But they did not dare to approach him.“Ulenspiegel,” said Nele, “these birds are asking you to have mercy on their eggs.”Then she began to tremble, and said:“I am afraid. Behold, the sun is setting, the sky is pale, the stars are awakening, it is the hour of the spirits. And look at these ruddy exhalations which rise all about us and seem as it were to trail along the ground. Tyl, my beloved, what monster from hell may he be who thus in the mist begins to open his fiery mouth? And look over there towards Philipsland. It was there that the murderer king had all those poor men done to death, not once but twice, and all for the sake of his cruel ambition! 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 allcold 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. “By the power of the balm it may be you will see them.”“Maybe,” said Ulenspiegel, “if some spirit, forsooth, would come down to visit us from that cold star.” And he pointed with his finger to the star Sirius.No sooner had he made this gesture than a will-o’-the-wisp that had been flying round them came and attached itself to his finger, and the more Ulenspiegel tried to shake it off the firmer the little wisp held on. Nele tried to free Ulenspiegel, but now she also had a little wisp firm on the tip of her finger, and neither would it let her go. 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? For you have none, my sweet! Or wait they, perhaps, till they come to blessed Paradise ere taking upon themselves a human form?”“Why waste time in talking to a peevish little flame that has no ears to hear with, no mouth wherewith to answer?” said Ulenspiegel.But paying no attention to him, Nele went on:“Wisp of mine, answer me now by dancing. For I am going to question you thrice. Once in the name of God, once in the name of Our Lady, and once in the name of the Elemental Spirits who are the messengers between God and men.”And this she did, and three times did the elf dance in answer.Then Nele said to Ulenspiegel:“Take off your clothes, and I will do the same. See, here is the silver box which holds the balm of vision.”“Be it as you wish,” answered Ulenspiegel.When they had undressed and anointed themselves with the balm of vision, they lay down naked as they were beside one another on the grass.The sea-gulls screamed; the thunder growled and rumbled, and in the darkness the lightning flashed. Between two clouds the moon scarcely showed her crescent’s golden horns; and the will-o’-the-wisps departed from Nele and Ulenspiegel to go off dancing with their comrades in the fields.Suddenly a great giant hand took hold of Nele and her lover, and threw them high in air as though they had been a child’s playthings. Then the giant caught them again, rolled them one on the other and kneaded them between his hands, and after that he threw them into a pool of water that lay between the hills, and last of all he dragged them out again full of water and water-weeds. And the giant began to sing in a voice so loud that all the sea-gulls of the islands awakened in terror:With eyes that squint they would discern,These silly, wandering insect-mortals,The sacred symbols none may learn,Safe guarded now within our portalsRead then, flea, the mystery high,Read then, louse, the secret vast,Which to earth and air and skyBy seven nails is anchored fast!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.Pope of Popes, King of Kings,Fashioned of wood he is Lord of All Things.Suddenly the lines of the giant’s face suffered a change. He seemed thinner, sadder and greater than ever. And in one hand he held a sceptre, and in the other a sword. And his name was Pride.And throwing Nele and Ulenspiegel to the ground, he said:“I am God.”Then by his side there appeared a ruddy-faced girl, and she was seated on the back of a goat, and her bosom was bare, her gown half open, and she had a wanton eye; and her name was Luxury. After her there came an old woman,a Jewess, who was busy all the time, scraping up the egg-shells of the sea-gulls that lay about on the ground; and her name was Avarice. Then a monk appeared, most greedy and gluttonous, eating chitterlings he was, and cramming himself with sausages and champing his jaws together without ceasing, like the sow whereon he rode; and his name was Greed. Thereafter came Idleness, dragging one leg after the other; wan she was and bloated, and she had a dull eye. And Anger came chasing after Idleness with a sharp needle with which she pricked her so that she cried aloud, and Idleness grieved and lamented with many tears, and kept falling down on to her knees so tired she was. Last of all came Envy, a thin figure with a head like a viper and teeth like the teeth of a pike. And she kept biting all the others with those cruel teeth of hers—Idleness because she had too much leisure, Anger because she was too lively, Greed because he was too well fed, Luxury because she was too ruddy, Avarice because of the treasure of shells she had amassed, Pride because of his robe of purple and his crown. And the wisps kept dancing all around, and they spake with many voices like the voices of men, women, and girls, and in the plaintive voices of children, and they groaned, saying:“O Pride, father of Ambition, and you, O Anger, that are the source of cruelty, you slew us on many a battlefield, and caused our death in many a prison and many a torture-chamber, that you might keep your sceptres and your crowns! And you, O Envy, that have destroyed so many useful thoughts while yet in the germ, we are the souls of the inventors whom you have persecuted. Avarice, you it is that have turned the blood of the poor into gold, and we are the souls of your victims. O Luxury, you are the friend and the sister of Murder; Nero, Messalina, Philip King of Spain—such are your children, and you buy virtue and you bribe corruption, and we are the souls of your dead. And you, O Idleness, and you, Greed, you befoul the world, but theworld must be cleansed of you; we are the souls of those who have perished at your hands.”And a voice was heard saying:From the dung-heap flowers arise,Seven are wicked, but seven are good.Bad teacher oft makes pupil wise.Now longs the wandering louse compriseBoth coal and cinder if he could!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 these words the Seven were suddenly transformed into images of wood, though they still lost nothing of their former outline; and a voice was heard saying:“Burn the wood, Ulenspiegel.”And Ulenspiegel turned towards the will-o’-the-wisps:“You that are made of fire, do your office.”And the wisps thronged around the seven images, which straightway burst into flame and were reduced to ashes.And from the ashes there flowed a river of blood.But out of the ashes arose now seven other figures, and the first said:“Once I was called Pride. But now my name is Nobility.”And the rest spake after the same fashion, and Nele and Ulenspiegel saw how Economy came forth from Avarice; Vivacity from Anger; Healthy Appetite from Gluttony; Emulation from Envy; and from Idleness the Dreams of poets andwise men. And Luxury, on her goat, was now transformed into the likeness of a beautiful woman, and her name was Love.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 seaThese 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.”And a powerful hand seized Nele by the arm, and threw her away into the void. And the Spirits sang:When the NorthShall kiss the WestThen shall be the end of ruin.Find the Cincture.“Alas!” cried Ulenspiegel. “North, West, Cincture!You speak in riddles, Sir Spirits!”But they went on with their singing and chattering:The North is the Netherland,Belgium is the West.Cincture is friendship,Cincture is Alliance.“Now you are talking sense, Sir Spirits,” said Ulenspiegel.And yet again they sang:The Cincture, little man,’Twixt Holland and Belgium—Firm Alliance,And beautiful Friendship.Alliance of Counsel,Alliance of Action,By deathBy blood,Were it notFor the Scheldt,Little man, for the Scheldt.“Alas!” said Ulenspiegel, “such is our life! Tears of man and laughter of destiny!”And again the Spirits repeated their rune, and their voices were like the clicking of castanets.Alliance by bloodAnd by deathWere it notFor the Scheldt.And a strong hand took hold of Ulenspiegel and threw him into the void.

It was the season of harvest. The air was heavy, the wind warm. They that gathered the harvest were able now to reap at their ease, under a free sky and from a free soil, the corn they had sown.

Frise, Drenthe, Overyssel, Gueldre, Utrecht, NoordBrabant, Noord and Zuid Holland; Walcheren, Noord and Zuid Beveland; Duiveland and Schouwen which together make up Zeeland; the sea-bordering lands to the north from Knokke to Helder; the isles of Texel, Vlieland, Ameland, and Schiermonik Oog—all were being delivered from the Spanish yoke, from the Eastern Scheldt to the Oost Ems. And Maurice, the son of William the Silent, was continuing the war.

Ulenspiegel and Nele kept still their youthfulness, their strength and their beauty, for the Love and the Spirit of Flanders never grow old. And they lived happily at the Tower of Neere, waiting for that day when, after so many cruel trials, they would be able to breathe the breath of liberty upon their native land of Belgium.

Ulenspiegel had asked to be made governor and guardian of the Tower. For he had, so he said, the eyes of an eagle and the ears of a hare, and so he would be able to see at once if the Spaniard ever dared to show himself again in the lands that had been delivered from his yoke. Then quickly would he sound thewacharm, the alarm-bell as we call it in our tongue.

To this request the magistrate consented, and in virtueof the good service he had rendered, Ulenspiegel was allowed a florin every day, two pints of beer, a ration of beans, cheese, biscuits, and three pounds of beef weekly.

And so did Ulenspiegel and Nele live on the Tower together very happily, having joy to see in the distance the free isles of Zeeland, and near at hand the woods and castles and fortresses, and the armed ships of the Beggarmen that guarded the coast.

At night they would often mount to the top of the Tower, and there they would sit together on the flat roof, talking of many a stern battle and telling many a tale of love, past and to come. And from their Tower they could see the ocean, which, when the weather was hot, furled and unfurled along the shore its shining waves, and threw them upon the island-coasts like wraiths of fire. And among the polders the will-o’-the-wisps would come a-dancing. And Nele was afraid of them, for she said they were the souls of the poor dead. And true it was that all those places where they danced had once been fields of battle. And the will-o’-the-wisps would oftentimes spring forth from the polders, and run along the dikes, and then return again to the polders, as though unwilling to leave the bodies whence they had come.

One night Nele said to Ulenspiegel:

“Behold how many spirits there are in Dreiveland, and how high they fly! Over there by the Isle of Birds they seem to crowd the thickest. Will you come with me there one night, Tyl? We would take with us the balm that can show us things invisible to mortal eyes.”

But Ulenspiegel answered:

“If you mean the balm we took when we went to the great Sabbath of Spring, I have no more faith or confidence in what we saw there than in any idle dream.”

“It is wrong to deny the power of charms,” said Nele. “Come, Ulenspiegel!”

“Very well,” he said.

The next day Ulenspiegel arranged with the magistrate that one of the soldiers who had clear sight and a faithful heart should take his place at the Tower for that one evening. And away he went with Nele towards the Isle of Birds.

They passed along by many a field and dike, till at last they saw the sea in front of them, and in it were set many little green islands with the waves coursing in between. And all about the grassy hills, which soon began to lose themselves in the sand-dunes, a great quantity of peewits were flying high and low, and sea-gulls and sea-swallows. Some of these birds would crowd together on the surface of the sea, and stay there quite still, so that they looked like little white islets; and above them and about flew thousands of their fellows. The very soil itself was full of their nests, and Ulenspiegel stooped down to pick up one of their eggs which was lying on the road. No sooner had he done so than a sea-gull came flapping towards him, crying out the while most dolefully. And in answer to this summons there flew up a hundred other sea-gulls, crying out as if in anguish, hovering about the head of Ulenspiegel and over the neighbouring nests. But they did not dare to approach him.

“Ulenspiegel,” said Nele, “these birds are asking you to have mercy on their eggs.”

Then she began to tremble, and said:

“I am afraid. Behold, the sun is setting, the sky is pale, the stars are awakening, it is the hour of the spirits. And look at these ruddy exhalations which rise all about us and seem as it were to trail along the ground. Tyl, my beloved, what monster from hell may he be who thus in the mist begins to open his fiery mouth? And look over there towards Philipsland. It was there that the murderer king had all those poor men done to death, not once but twice, and all for the sake of his cruel ambition! 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 allcold 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. “By the power of the balm it may be you will see them.”

“Maybe,” said Ulenspiegel, “if some spirit, forsooth, would come down to visit us from that cold star.” And he pointed with his finger to the star Sirius.

No sooner had he made this gesture than a will-o’-the-wisp that had been flying round them came and attached itself to his finger, and the more Ulenspiegel tried to shake it off the firmer the little wisp held on. Nele tried to free Ulenspiegel, but now she also had a little wisp firm on the tip of her finger, and neither would it let her go. 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? For you have none, my sweet! Or wait they, perhaps, till they come to blessed Paradise ere taking upon themselves a human form?”

“Why waste time in talking to a peevish little flame that has no ears to hear with, no mouth wherewith to answer?” said Ulenspiegel.

But paying no attention to him, Nele went on:

“Wisp of mine, answer me now by dancing. For I am going to question you thrice. Once in the name of God, once in the name of Our Lady, and once in the name of the Elemental Spirits who are the messengers between God and men.”

And this she did, and three times did the elf dance in answer.

Then Nele said to Ulenspiegel:

“Take off your clothes, and I will do the same. See, here is the silver box which holds the balm of vision.”

“Be it as you wish,” answered Ulenspiegel.

When they had undressed and anointed themselves with the balm of vision, they lay down naked as they were beside one another on the grass.

The sea-gulls screamed; the thunder growled and rumbled, and in the darkness the lightning flashed. Between two clouds the moon scarcely showed her crescent’s golden horns; and the will-o’-the-wisps departed from Nele and Ulenspiegel to go off dancing with their comrades in the fields.

Suddenly a great giant hand took hold of Nele and her lover, and threw them high in air as though they had been a child’s playthings. Then the giant caught them again, rolled them one on the other and kneaded them between his hands, and after that he threw them into a pool of water that lay between the hills, and last of all he dragged them out again full of water and water-weeds. And the giant began to sing in a voice so loud that all the sea-gulls of the islands awakened in terror:

With eyes that squint they would discern,These silly, wandering insect-mortals,The sacred symbols none may learn,Safe guarded now within our portalsRead then, flea, the mystery high,Read then, louse, the secret vast,Which to earth and air and skyBy seven nails is anchored fast!

With eyes that squint they would discern,These silly, wandering insect-mortals,The sacred symbols none may learn,Safe guarded now within our portals

With eyes that squint they would discern,

These silly, wandering insect-mortals,

The sacred symbols none may learn,

Safe guarded now within our portals

Read then, flea, the mystery high,Read then, louse, the secret vast,Which to earth and air and skyBy seven nails is anchored fast!

Read then, flea, the mystery high,

Read then, louse, the secret vast,

Which to earth and air and sky

By seven nails is anchored fast!

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.

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.Pope of Popes, King of Kings,Fashioned of wood he is Lord of All Things.

Look at him well—the Master of All,

Before him Cæsar himself must fall.

Pope of Popes, King of Kings,

Fashioned of wood he is Lord of All Things.

Suddenly the lines of the giant’s face suffered a change. He seemed thinner, sadder and greater than ever. And in one hand he held a sceptre, and in the other a sword. And his name was Pride.

And throwing Nele and Ulenspiegel to the ground, he said:

“I am God.”

Then by his side there appeared a ruddy-faced girl, and she was seated on the back of a goat, and her bosom was bare, her gown half open, and she had a wanton eye; and her name was Luxury. After her there came an old woman,a Jewess, who was busy all the time, scraping up the egg-shells of the sea-gulls that lay about on the ground; and her name was Avarice. Then a monk appeared, most greedy and gluttonous, eating chitterlings he was, and cramming himself with sausages and champing his jaws together without ceasing, like the sow whereon he rode; and his name was Greed. Thereafter came Idleness, dragging one leg after the other; wan she was and bloated, and she had a dull eye. And Anger came chasing after Idleness with a sharp needle with which she pricked her so that she cried aloud, and Idleness grieved and lamented with many tears, and kept falling down on to her knees so tired she was. Last of all came Envy, a thin figure with a head like a viper and teeth like the teeth of a pike. And she kept biting all the others with those cruel teeth of hers—Idleness because she had too much leisure, Anger because she was too lively, Greed because he was too well fed, Luxury because she was too ruddy, Avarice because of the treasure of shells she had amassed, Pride because of his robe of purple and his crown. And the wisps kept dancing all around, and they spake with many voices like the voices of men, women, and girls, and in the plaintive voices of children, and they groaned, saying:

“O Pride, father of Ambition, and you, O Anger, that are the source of cruelty, you slew us on many a battlefield, and caused our death in many a prison and many a torture-chamber, that you might keep your sceptres and your crowns! And you, O Envy, that have destroyed so many useful thoughts while yet in the germ, we are the souls of the inventors whom you have persecuted. Avarice, you it is that have turned the blood of the poor into gold, and we are the souls of your victims. O Luxury, you are the friend and the sister of Murder; Nero, Messalina, Philip King of Spain—such are your children, and you buy virtue and you bribe corruption, and we are the souls of your dead. And you, O Idleness, and you, Greed, you befoul the world, but theworld must be cleansed of you; we are the souls of those who have perished at your hands.”

And a voice was heard saying:

From the dung-heap flowers arise,Seven are wicked, but seven are good.Bad teacher oft makes pupil wise.Now longs the wandering louse compriseBoth coal and cinder if he could!

From the dung-heap flowers arise,

Seven are wicked, but seven are good.

Bad teacher oft makes pupil wise.

Now longs the wandering louse comprise

Both coal and cinder if he could!

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 these words the Seven were suddenly transformed into images of wood, though they still lost nothing of their former outline; and a voice was heard saying:

“Burn the wood, Ulenspiegel.”

And Ulenspiegel turned towards the will-o’-the-wisps:

“You that are made of fire, do your office.”

And the wisps thronged around the seven images, which straightway burst into flame and were reduced to ashes.

And from the ashes there flowed a river of blood.

But out of the ashes arose now seven other figures, and the first said:

“Once I was called Pride. But now my name is Nobility.”

And the rest spake after the same fashion, and Nele and Ulenspiegel saw how Economy came forth from Avarice; Vivacity from Anger; Healthy Appetite from Gluttony; Emulation from Envy; and from Idleness the Dreams of poets andwise men. And Luxury, on her goat, was now transformed into the likeness of a beautiful woman, and her name was Love.

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 seaThese Seven transformed shall reign,Mortals lift up your heads again,For happy the world shall be!

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.”

And a powerful hand seized Nele by the arm, and threw her away into the void. And the Spirits sang:

When the NorthShall kiss the WestThen shall be the end of ruin.Find the Cincture.

When the North

Shall kiss the West

Then shall be the end of ruin.

Find the Cincture.

“Alas!” cried Ulenspiegel. “North, West, Cincture!You speak in riddles, Sir Spirits!”

But they went on with their singing and chattering:

The North is the Netherland,Belgium is the West.Cincture is friendship,Cincture is Alliance.

The North is the Netherland,

Belgium is the West.

Cincture is friendship,

Cincture is Alliance.

“Now you are talking sense, Sir Spirits,” said Ulenspiegel.

And yet again they sang:

The Cincture, little man,’Twixt Holland and Belgium—Firm Alliance,And beautiful Friendship.Alliance of Counsel,Alliance of Action,By deathBy blood,Were it notFor the Scheldt,Little man, for the Scheldt.

The Cincture, little man,’Twixt Holland and Belgium—Firm Alliance,And beautiful Friendship.

The Cincture, little man,

’Twixt Holland and Belgium—

Firm Alliance,

And beautiful Friendship.

Alliance of Counsel,Alliance of Action,By deathBy blood,Were it notFor the Scheldt,Little man, for the Scheldt.

Alliance of Counsel,

Alliance of Action,

By death

By blood,

Were it not

For the Scheldt,

Little man, for the Scheldt.

“Alas!” said Ulenspiegel, “such is our life! Tears of man and laughter of destiny!”

And again the Spirits repeated their rune, and their voices were like the clicking of castanets.

Alliance by bloodAnd by deathWere it notFor the Scheldt.

Alliance by blood

And by death

Were it not

For the Scheldt.

And a strong hand took hold of Ulenspiegel and threw him into the void.

XXXVAs she fell, Nele rubbed her eyes but she could see nothing save the sun that was rising, wreathed in a golden mist. And then the tips of the grass all golden too, in that radiance which was soon to tinge with gold the plumage of the sea-gulls who slept as yet, but were about to awaken.Nele looked downwards at herself, and seeing that she was naked she put on her clothes with all haste. Then it was that she noticed the body of Ulenspiegel where it lay there, naked also, and him also she covered with his clothes. He seemed to be still asleep and she gave him a shake, but he remained quite motionless like one dead. Then was Nele seized with fear. “Have I killed him?” she cried. “Have I killed my love with this balm of vision? Would that I too might die! Ah, Tyl, wake up! But he is as cold as marble!”Ulenspiegel did not awake, and two nights passed and a day, and Nele still watched by his side in a fever of grief and fear.It was at the dawn of the second day of her vigil that Nele heard the sound of a little bell in the distance, and saw presently a peasant approaching with a shovel in his hand. Behind him came a burgomaster with two aldermen carrying candles, and then the curé of Stavenisse with a beadle holding a parasol over his head. It appeared that they were going to administer the Holy Sacrament of Unction to one Jacobsen, a brave Beggarman, who had adopted the new religion by compulsion, but being about to die had returned to the bosom of the Holy Roman Church.When they came opposite to Nele they found her still crying, and they saw the body of Ulenspiegel laid out on the grass in front of her, covered with clothes. Nele fell upon her knees in front of the little procession.“My girl,” said the burgomaster, “what are you doing by this corpse?”Without daring to raise her eyes, Nele made answer:“I am praying for the soul of my beloved, he that has fallen dead as if struck by lightning. I am alone now, and I am fain to die.”But already the curé was puffing with pleasure.“Ulenspiegel the Beggarman dead!” he cried. “Praise be to God! Be quick there, peasant, and dig a grave, and take his clothes off before you bury him.”“No,” said Nele, getting up from the ground. “No, you shall not take his clothes, he would be cold there in the cold earth.”“Quick!” cried the curé, addressing himself again to the peasant with the shovel.“You may bury him,” said Nele, all in tears. “I give you leave; for this sand is full of lime, so that his body will keep for ever whole and beautiful, the body of my beloved.”And half mad with anguish as she was, Nele bent over the body of Ulenspiegel, kissing him through her tears.Now the burgomaster, the aldermen, and even the peasant had compassion on the girl, but not so the curé, who ceased not to cry out most joyfully: “The great Beggarman is dead! God be praised!”Then the peasant dug the grave, and Ulenspiegel was placed therein, and covered all over with sand.And over the grave the curé said the prayers for the dead, and the others knelt all round. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the sand, and Ulenspiegel arose, sneezing and shaking the sand from his hair, and he seized the curé by the throat.“Inquisitor!” he cried. “I was asleep, and you buried me alive! Where is Nele? Have you buried her also? Who are you?”The curé began to cry out in terror:“The great Beggarman returns to this world! Lord God have mercy on my soul!”And away he fled like a stag before the hounds.Nele came to Ulenspiegel: “Kiss me, dearest,” she said.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.”And they twain departed, Ulenspiegel singing his sixth song. But no man knoweth where he sang his last.The Sixth SongThe Sixth Song

XXXV

As she fell, Nele rubbed her eyes but she could see nothing save the sun that was rising, wreathed in a golden mist. And then the tips of the grass all golden too, in that radiance which was soon to tinge with gold the plumage of the sea-gulls who slept as yet, but were about to awaken.Nele looked downwards at herself, and seeing that she was naked she put on her clothes with all haste. Then it was that she noticed the body of Ulenspiegel where it lay there, naked also, and him also she covered with his clothes. He seemed to be still asleep and she gave him a shake, but he remained quite motionless like one dead. Then was Nele seized with fear. “Have I killed him?” she cried. “Have I killed my love with this balm of vision? Would that I too might die! Ah, Tyl, wake up! But he is as cold as marble!”Ulenspiegel did not awake, and two nights passed and a day, and Nele still watched by his side in a fever of grief and fear.It was at the dawn of the second day of her vigil that Nele heard the sound of a little bell in the distance, and saw presently a peasant approaching with a shovel in his hand. Behind him came a burgomaster with two aldermen carrying candles, and then the curé of Stavenisse with a beadle holding a parasol over his head. It appeared that they were going to administer the Holy Sacrament of Unction to one Jacobsen, a brave Beggarman, who had adopted the new religion by compulsion, but being about to die had returned to the bosom of the Holy Roman Church.When they came opposite to Nele they found her still crying, and they saw the body of Ulenspiegel laid out on the grass in front of her, covered with clothes. Nele fell upon her knees in front of the little procession.“My girl,” said the burgomaster, “what are you doing by this corpse?”Without daring to raise her eyes, Nele made answer:“I am praying for the soul of my beloved, he that has fallen dead as if struck by lightning. I am alone now, and I am fain to die.”But already the curé was puffing with pleasure.“Ulenspiegel the Beggarman dead!” he cried. “Praise be to God! Be quick there, peasant, and dig a grave, and take his clothes off before you bury him.”“No,” said Nele, getting up from the ground. “No, you shall not take his clothes, he would be cold there in the cold earth.”“Quick!” cried the curé, addressing himself again to the peasant with the shovel.“You may bury him,” said Nele, all in tears. “I give you leave; for this sand is full of lime, so that his body will keep for ever whole and beautiful, the body of my beloved.”And half mad with anguish as she was, Nele bent over the body of Ulenspiegel, kissing him through her tears.Now the burgomaster, the aldermen, and even the peasant had compassion on the girl, but not so the curé, who ceased not to cry out most joyfully: “The great Beggarman is dead! God be praised!”Then the peasant dug the grave, and Ulenspiegel was placed therein, and covered all over with sand.And over the grave the curé said the prayers for the dead, and the others knelt all round. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the sand, and Ulenspiegel arose, sneezing and shaking the sand from his hair, and he seized the curé by the throat.“Inquisitor!” he cried. “I was asleep, and you buried me alive! Where is Nele? Have you buried her also? Who are you?”The curé began to cry out in terror:“The great Beggarman returns to this world! Lord God have mercy on my soul!”And away he fled like a stag before the hounds.Nele came to Ulenspiegel: “Kiss me, dearest,” she said.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.”And they twain departed, Ulenspiegel singing his sixth song. But no man knoweth where he sang his last.The Sixth SongThe Sixth Song

As she fell, Nele rubbed her eyes but she could see nothing save the sun that was rising, wreathed in a golden mist. And then the tips of the grass all golden too, in that radiance which was soon to tinge with gold the plumage of the sea-gulls who slept as yet, but were about to awaken.

Nele looked downwards at herself, and seeing that she was naked she put on her clothes with all haste. Then it was that she noticed the body of Ulenspiegel where it lay there, naked also, and him also she covered with his clothes. He seemed to be still asleep and she gave him a shake, but he remained quite motionless like one dead. Then was Nele seized with fear. “Have I killed him?” she cried. “Have I killed my love with this balm of vision? Would that I too might die! Ah, Tyl, wake up! But he is as cold as marble!”

Ulenspiegel did not awake, and two nights passed and a day, and Nele still watched by his side in a fever of grief and fear.

It was at the dawn of the second day of her vigil that Nele heard the sound of a little bell in the distance, and saw presently a peasant approaching with a shovel in his hand. Behind him came a burgomaster with two aldermen carrying candles, and then the curé of Stavenisse with a beadle holding a parasol over his head. It appeared that they were going to administer the Holy Sacrament of Unction to one Jacobsen, a brave Beggarman, who had adopted the new religion by compulsion, but being about to die had returned to the bosom of the Holy Roman Church.

When they came opposite to Nele they found her still crying, and they saw the body of Ulenspiegel laid out on the grass in front of her, covered with clothes. Nele fell upon her knees in front of the little procession.

“My girl,” said the burgomaster, “what are you doing by this corpse?”

Without daring to raise her eyes, Nele made answer:

“I am praying for the soul of my beloved, he that has fallen dead as if struck by lightning. I am alone now, and I am fain to die.”

But already the curé was puffing with pleasure.

“Ulenspiegel the Beggarman dead!” he cried. “Praise be to God! Be quick there, peasant, and dig a grave, and take his clothes off before you bury him.”

“No,” said Nele, getting up from the ground. “No, you shall not take his clothes, he would be cold there in the cold earth.”

“Quick!” cried the curé, addressing himself again to the peasant with the shovel.

“You may bury him,” said Nele, all in tears. “I give you leave; for this sand is full of lime, so that his body will keep for ever whole and beautiful, the body of my beloved.”

And half mad with anguish as she was, Nele bent over the body of Ulenspiegel, kissing him through her tears.

Now the burgomaster, the aldermen, and even the peasant had compassion on the girl, but not so the curé, who ceased not to cry out most joyfully: “The great Beggarman is dead! God be praised!”

Then the peasant dug the grave, and Ulenspiegel was placed therein, and covered all over with sand.

And over the grave the curé said the prayers for the dead, and the others knelt all round. Suddenly there was a great commotion in the sand, and Ulenspiegel arose, sneezing and shaking the sand from his hair, and he seized the curé by the throat.

“Inquisitor!” he cried. “I was asleep, and you buried me alive! Where is Nele? Have you buried her also? Who are you?”

The curé began to cry out in terror:

“The great Beggarman returns to this world! Lord God have mercy on my soul!”

And away he fled like a stag before the hounds.

Nele came to Ulenspiegel: “Kiss me, dearest,” she said.

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.”

And they twain departed, Ulenspiegel singing his sixth song. But no man knoweth where he sang his last.

The Sixth SongThe Sixth Song

The Sixth Song

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