XXXIX

XXXIXBorgstorm, the great bell of Damme, had summoned the judges to judgment. It was four o’clock, and now they were collected together at theVierschare, around the Tree of Justice.Claes was brought before them. Seated upon the dais was the high bailiff of Damme, and by his side, opposite Claes, the mayor, the alderman, and the clerk of the court.The populace ran together at the sound of the bell. A great crowd they were, and many of them were saying that the judges were there to do—not justice—but merely the will of His Imperial Majesty....After certain preliminaries, the high bailiff began to make proclamation of the acts and deeds for which Claes had been summoned before that tribunal.“The informer,” he said, “had been staying by chance at Damme, not wishing to spend all his money at Bruges in feasting and festivity as is too often the case during these sacred occasions. On a time, then, when he was taking the air soberly on his own doorstep, he saw a man walking towards him along the rue Héron. This man Claes also saw, and went up to him and greeted him. The stranger, who was dressed all in black, entered the house of Claes, leaving the door into the street half open. Curious to find out who the man was,the informer went into the vestibule, and heard Claes talking to the stranger in the kitchen. The talk was all about a certain Josse, the brother of Claes, who it seems had been made prisoner among the army of the Reformers, and had suffered the punishment of being broken alive on the wheel of torture, not far from Aix. The stranger said that he had brought Claes a sum of money which his brother had desired to leave him, which money having been gained from the ignorant and poverty-stricken, it behoved Claes to spend it in bringing up his own son in the Reformed Faith. He also urged Claes to quit the bosom of our Holy Mother Church, and spake also many other impious words to which the only reply vouchsafed by Claes was this: ‘The cruel brutes! Alas, my poor Josse!’ So did the prisoner blaspheme against our Holy Father the Pope and against His Royal Majesty, accusing them of cruelty in that they rightly had punished heresy as a crime of treason against God and man. When the stranger had finished the meal that Claes put before him, our agent heard Claes cry out again: ‘Alas, poor Josse! May God keep thee in his glory! How cruel they were to thee!’ And thus did he accuse God himself of impiety by this suggestion that He could receive a heretic into His heaven. Nor did Claes ever cease to cry aloud: ‘Alas! Alas! My poor Josse!’ The stranger then, launching out into a frenzy, like a preacher beginning his sermon, fell to revile most shamefully our Holy Mother the Church. ‘She will fall,’ he shouted, ‘she will fall, the mighty Babylon, the whore of Rome, and she will become the abode of demons, and the haunt of every bird accursed.’ And Claes meanwhile continued the same old cry: ‘Cruel brutes! Alas, poor Josse!’ And the stranger went on in the same way as he had begun, saying: ‘Verily an angel shall appear that shall take a stone that is great as a millstone, and shall cast it into the sea, crying: “Thus shall it be done to Babylon the mighty, and she shall be no more seen.”’ Whereupon, ‘Sir,’says Claes, ‘your mouth is full of bitterness; but tell me, when cometh that kingdom in which they that are gentle of heart shall be able to dwell in peace upon the earth?’ ‘Never,’ answered the stranger, ‘while yet my Lord Antichrist rules, that is the Pope, who is to-day the enemy to all truth.’ ‘Ah,’ said Claes, ‘you speak with little respect of the Holy Father. But he, surely, is ignorant of the cruel punishments which are meted out to poor Reformers.’ ‘Not at all,’ answered the stranger, ‘and far from it, for it is he who initiates the decrees and causes them to be put into force by the Emperor, now by the King. The latter enjoys all the benefits of confiscation, inherits the property of the dead, and finds it easy to bring charges of heresy against those who have any wealth.’ Claes said: ‘Indeed I know that such things are freely spoken of in the land of Flanders, and one may well believe them, for the flesh of man is weak, even though the flesh be royal flesh. O my poor Josse!’ And by this did Claes give to understand that heretics are punished because of a vile desire on the part of His Majesty for filthy lucre. The stranger wished to argue the matter further, but Claes said: ‘Please, sir, do not let us continue this conversation, for if it were overheard I might easily find myself involved in some awkward inquiry.’ Then Claes got up to go to the cellar, whence he presently returned with a pot of beer. ‘I am going to shut the door,’ said he, and after that the informer heard nothing more, for he had to make his way out of the house as quickly as he could. Not till it was night was the door again opened, and then the stranger came forth. But he soon returned, knocking at the door and calling to Claes: ‘It is very cold, and I know not where I am to lodge this night. Give me shelter, pray. No one has seen me. The town is deserted.’ Claes welcomed him in, lit a lantern, and last of all he was seen to be leading the heretic up the staircase into a little attic room with a window that looked out on to the country.”At this Claes cried out: “And who could have reported all this but you, you wicked fishmonger! I saw you on Sunday, standing at your door, as straight as a post, gazing up, like the hypocrite you are, at the swallows in their flight!”And as he spoke, he pointed with his finger at Josse Grypstuiver, the Dean of the Fishmongers, who showed his ugly phiz in the crowd of people. And the fishmonger gave an evil smile when he saw Claes betraying himself in this way. And the people in the crowd, men, women, and maids, looked one at the other and said: “Poor good man, his words will be the death of him without a doubt.”But the clerk continued his depositions.“Claes and the heretic stayed talking together for a long time that night, and so for six other nights, during which time the stranger was seen to make many gestures of menace or of benediction, and to lift up his hands to heaven as do his fellow-heretics. And Claes appeared to approve of what he said. And there is no doubt that throughout these days and nights they were speaking together opprobriously of the Mass, of the confessional, of indulgences, and of the Royal Majesty....”“No one heard it,” said Claes, “and I cannot be accused in this way without any evidence.”The clerk answered:“There is something else that was overheard. The evening that the stranger left your roof, seven days after he had first come to you, you went with him as far as the end of Katheline’s field. There he asked you what you had done with the wicked idols”—here the bailiff crossed himself—“of Madame the Virgin, and of St. Nicholas and St. Martin. You replied that you had broken them all up and thrown them into the well. They were, in fact, found in the well last night, and the pieces are now in the torture-chamber.”At these words Claes appeared to be quite overcome.The bailiff asked if he had nothing to answer. Claes made a sign with his head in the negative.The bailiff asked him if he would not recant the accursed thoughts which had led him to break the images, and the impious delusion whereby he had spoken such evil words against Pope and Emperor, who were both divine personages.Claes replied that his body was the Emperor’s, but that his soul was Christ’s, whose law he desired to obey. The bailiff asked him if this law were the same as that of Holy Mother Church. Claes answered:“The law of Christ is written in the Holy Gospel.”When ordered to answer the question as to whether the Pope is the representative of God on earth, he answered, “No.”When asked if he believed that it was forbidden to adore images of Our Lady and of the saints, he replied that such was idolatry. Questioned as to whether the practice of auricular confession was a good and salutary thing, he answered: “Christ said, confess your sins one to another.”He spoke out bravely, though at the same time it was evident that he was ill at ease and in his heart afraid.At length, eight o’clock having sounded and evening coming on, the members of the tribunal retired, deferring their judgment until the morrow.XLThe next day the great bell,Borgstorm, clanged out its summons to the judges of the tribunal. When they were all assembled at theVierschare, seated upon the four benches that were set around the lime-tree, Claes was cross-examined afresh, and asked if he was willing to recant his errors.But Claes lifted his hand towards heaven:“The Lord Christ beholdeth me from on high,” he said, “and when my son Ulenspiegel was born I also gazed uponHis Sun. Where is Ulenspiegel now? Where is he now, the vagabond? O Soetkin, sweet wife, will you be brave in the day of trouble?”Then looking at the lime-tree he cursed it, saying: “South wind and drouth, I adjure you to make the trees of our fathers perish one and all where they stand, rather than that beneath their shade freedom of conscience shall be judged to death! O Ulenspiegel, my son, where are you? Harsh was I unto you in days gone by. But now, good sirs, take pity on me, and be merciful to me in your judgment, even as Our Lord would be merciful.”And all that heard him wept, save only the judges.Then Claes asked them a second time if they would not pardon him, saying:“Truly I was always a hard-working man, and one that gained little for all his toil. I was good to the poor and kind to every one. And if I have left the Roman Church it is only in obedience to the spirit of God that spake to me. I ask for no grace except that the pain of fire may be commuted to a sentence of perpetual banishment from the land of Flanders. Banishment for life! A sufficient punishment that, surely!”And all they that were present cried aloud:“Have pity upon him! Have mercy!”But Josse Grypstuiver held his peace.Now the bailiff made a sign to the company that they should keep silence, adding that the placards contained a clause which expressly forbade the petitioning of mercy for heretics. But he said that if Claes would abjure his heresy he should be executed by hanging instead of by burning. And the people murmured:“What matters burning or hanging, they both mean death!”And the women wept and the men murmured under their breath.Claes said:“I will abjure nothing. Do to my body whatsoever is pleasing to your mercy.”Then spoke the Dean of Renaix, Titelman by name:“It is intolerable that these vermin of heretics should raise up their heads in this way before their judges. After all, the burning of the body is but a passing pain, and torture is necessary for the saving of souls, and for the recantation of error, lest the people be given the dangerous spectacle of heretics dying in a state of final impenitence.”At these words the women wept still more, and the men said: “In those cases where the crime is confessed punishment may be rightly inflicted, but torture is illegal!”The tribunal decided that since indeed it was a fact that the ordinances did not order torture to be applied in such cases, there was no occasion to insist that Claes should suffer it. He was asked once more if he would not recant.“I cannot,” he answered.Then, in accordance with the ordinances, sentence was passed upon him. He was declared guilty of simony in that he had taken part in the sale of indulgences, and he was also declared to be a heretic and a harbourer of heretics, and as such he was condemned to be burned alive before the hoardings of the Town Hall. His body was to be left hanging on the stake for the space of two days as a warning to others, and afterwards it was to be interred in the place set apart for the bodies of executed criminals. To the informer, Josse Grypstuiver (whose name had never been mentioned throughout the whole trial), the tribunal ordered to be paid the sum of fifty florins calculated on the first hundred florins of the inheritance of the deceased, and a tenth part of the remainder.When he heard the sentence that had been passed upon him, Claes turned to the Dean of the Fishmongers.“You will come to a bad end,” he said, “you wicked manthat for a paltry sum of money have turned a happy wife into a widow, and a joyous son into a grieving orphan.”The judges suffered Claes to speak in this way for they also, all except Titelman, could not help despising from the bottom of their hearts the Dean of the Fishmongers for the information he had given. Grypstuiver himself went pale with shame and anger.And Claes was led back to his prison.XLIOn the morrow (which was the day before the execution of Claes) the decision of the court was made known to Nele, to Ulenspiegel, and Soetkin. They asked the judges for leave to visit Claes in prison, which permission was granted in the case of the wife and the son only.On entering the prison cell they found Claes tied to the wall by a long chain. A small fire was burning in the grate because of the damp. For it is custom and law in Flanders that they who are condemned to death shall be gently treated and be given bread and meat to eat, or cheese and wine. Still gaolers are a greedy race, and oftentimes the law is broken, there being many prison guards who themselves eat up the greater part of the nourishment provided for the poor prisoners, or keep the best morsels for themselves.Claes embraced Ulenspiegel and Soetkin, crying the while. But he was the first to dry his eyes, for he put control upon himself, being a man and the head of the family. Soetkin, however, went on crying, and Ulenspiegel kept muttering under his breath:“I must break these wicked chains!”And Soetkin said through her tears:“I shall go to King Philip. He surely will have mercy!”But Claes answered that this would be no use since the King was wont to possess himself of the property of those who died as martyrs.... He said also:“My wife and child, my best beloved, it is with sadness and sorrow that I am about to leave this world. If I have some natural apprehension for my own bodily sufferings, I am no less concerned when I think of you and of how poor and wretched you will be when I am gone, for the King will certainly seize for himself all your goods.”Ulenspiegel made answer, speaking in a low voice for fear of being overheard:“Yesterday Nele and I hid all the money.”“I am glad,” Claes answered; “the informer will not laugh when he comes to count his plunder.”“I had rather he died than had a penny of it,” said Soetkin with a look of hate in her eyes now dry of tears. But Claes, who was still thinking about the caroluses, said to Ulenspiegel:“That was clever of you, Tyl, my lad; now Soetkin need not be afraid of going hungry in the old age of her widowhood.”And Claes embraced her, pressing her close to his breast, and she wept all the more bitterly as she thought how soon she was to lose his tender protection.Claes looked at Ulenspiegel and said:“My son, it was wrong of you to go running off along the high roads of the world like any ruffian. You must not do that any more, my boy. You must not leave her alone at home, my widow in her sorrow. For now it is your duty to protect her and take care of her—you, a man.”“I will, father,” said Ulenspiegel.“O my poor husband!” cried Soetkin embracing him again. “What crime can we have committed? Nay, we lived our life peaceably together, lowly and humbly, loving each other well—how well Thou, Lord, knowest! Early in the morning we rose for work, and at eventide, rendering our thanks to Thee, we ate our daily bread. Oh, would that I could come at this King, and tear him with my nails! For in nothing, O Lord God, have we offended!”But here the gaoler entered and said that it was time for them to depart.Soetkin begged to be allowed to stay, and Claes felt her poor face burning hot as it touched his, and her tears falling in floods and wetting all his cheek, and her poor body shaking and trembling in his arms. He, too, entreated the gaoler that she might be suffered to remain with him. But the gaoler was obdurate, and removed Soetkin by force from the arms of Claes.“Take care of her,” Claes said to Ulenspiegel.He promised, and son and mother left the room together, she supported in his arms.XLIIThe next day, which was the day of the execution, the neighbours, out of pity for their suffering, came and shut up Soetkin and Nele and Ulenspiegel in Katheline’s cottage. For they could not bear that they should see the terrible sight of the burning. Yet it had been forgotten that the far-off cries of the tormented one would reach the cottage, and that those within would be able to see through the windows the flames of the fire.Katheline, meanwhile, went wandering through the town, wagging her head and crying out continually:“Make a hole! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!”At nine of the clock Claes was led out of his prison. He was dressed in a shirt only, and his hands were tied behind his back. In accordance with the sentence that had been passed upon him, the pile was set up in the rue Notre Dame, with a stake in the midst, just in front of the hoarding of the Town Hall. When they arrived there the executioner and his assistants had not yet completed the work of stacking the wood. Claes stood patiently in the midst of his tormentors watching while the work was finished, and all the time the provost on his horse, with the officers of the tribunal and thenine foot-soldiers that had been summoned from Bruges, had the greatest difficulty in keeping order among the people. For they murmured one to another, saying that it was cruelty thus to do to death unjustly a man like Claes, a poor man and already old in years, and one that was so gentle, so forgiving, and such a good and steady workman.Suddenly they all fell upon their knees and began to pray, for the bells of Notre Dame were heard tolling for the dead.Katheline also was among the crowd, right in the front, mad as she was. Fixing her eye on Claes and the pile of wood, she wagged her head and cried continually:“Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!”When Nele and Soetkin heard the sound of the tolling they crossed themselves. But Ulenspiegel did not cross himself, saying that he would never pray to God after the same fashion as those hangmen. But he ran about the cottage, trying to force open the doors or jump from the windows. But they were shut and fastened well.Suddenly Soetkin hid her face in her apron.“The smoke!” she cried.And in very fact, the three mourners could see, mounting high to heaven, a great eddy of smoke; all black it was, the smoke of the funeral pile whereon was Claes, tied to a stake, the smoke of that fire which the executioner had just set burning in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.Claes looked around for Soetkin or Ulenspiegel. But not seeing them anywhere in the crowd he felt happier and more at ease, thinking that they would not know how he suffered. And all the time there was a silence like death, except for the sound of Claes’ voice praying, and the crackling of the wood, the murmuring of men, the weeping of the women, the voice of Katheline as she cried: “Put out the fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!” and over all, the bells of Notre Dame tolling for the dead.Suddenly Soetkin’s face went as white as snow, and her body trembled all over. She did not utter a sound, but pointed to the sky with her finger. For there a long, straight flame of fire had risen above the pyre, and now was leaping high above the roofs of the lower houses. It was a flame of pain and cruelty to Claes, for following the caprice of the breeze, it preyed upon his legs, or touched his head so that it smoked, licking and singeing his hair.Ulenspiegel took Soetkin in his arms and tried to tear her away from the window. Then they heard a sharp cry, the cry which came from Claes when one side of his body was burnt by the dancing flames. But then he was silent again, weeping to himself. And his breast was all wet with his tears.Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together:“He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!”The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob.“Kill him!” they shouted. “Put him out of his misery!” And they began to throw missiles at the provost.Soetkin cried aloud: “The flame! The great flame!”And in very truth they saw now a great red flame, mounting heavenwards, in the midst of the smoke.“He is about to die,” said the widow. “O Lord, of your mercy receive the soul of this innocent. Where is the King, that I may go and tear out his heart with my nails?”And all the while the bells of Notre Dame kept tolling for the dead. Yet again did Soetkin hear a great cry from her husband; but mercifully she was spared the sight of his body writhing in the agony of the fire, and his twisted face, and his head that he turned from side to side and beat upon the wood of the stake. Meanwhile the crowd continued toshout and to hiss, and the boys threw stones, until all of a sudden the whole pile of wood caught alight, and the voice of Claes was heard crying out from the midst of the flame and smoke:“Soetkin! Tyl!”And then his head fell down upon his breast as though it were made of lead.And there came a cry, most piteous and piercing, from the cottage of Katheline; and after that there was silence, except for the poor mad woman wagging her head and saying:“My soul wants to get out!”Claes was dead. The fire burned itself away, smouldering at the foot of the stake whereon the poor body still hung by its neck.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.XLIIIIn Katheline’s cottage Soetkin stood leaning against the wall, with her head hanging down and her hands clasped together. She held Ulenspiegel in her arms, speechless and without a tear. Neither did Ulenspiegel say anything. It made him afraid to feel the burning fever that raged in the body of his mother.The neighbours, returning from the place of execution, came to the cottage and told how Claes had made an end of his sufferings.“He is in glory,” said the widow.“Pray for him,” said Nele, putting her rosary into the hands of Ulenspiegel. But he would make no use of it, giving as his reason that the beads had been blessed by the Pope.At last night came, and Ulenspiegel urged his mother to go to bed, telling her that he himself would sit up and keep watch in the room. But Soetkin said that there was no need for him to do that. Let him sleep also, for the young haveneed of a good night’s rest. So Nele prepared two beds for them in the kitchen, and after that she left them.Mother and son stayed up together while what remained of the wood fire burned itself out in the grate. Then Soetkin retired to her bed, and Ulenspiegel did likewise, listening to his mother sobbing to herself under the bedclothes.Outside in the silence of the night the wind made a murmuring sound in the trees by the canal. It was like the far-off sound of waves, and it meant that autumn was coming soon. Also, there were great eddies of dust that beat against the cottage windows.Now it seemed to Ulenspiegel that he saw the figure of a man going to and fro in the room, and he thought he heard the sound of footsteps coming and going in the kitchen. But when he looked he no longer saw the man, and listening he no longer heard those footsteps, but only the sound of the wind as it whistled in the chimney and Soetkin crying under the bedclothes.Then once again he heard those footsteps, and just behind him, near his head, a soft sigh.“Who is it?” he said.No one answered, but quite distinctly came the sound of three taps on the table. Ulenspiegel was afraid, and began to tremble. “Who is it?” he said again. No one answered, but once more there came the three taps upon the table, and after that he felt two arms hugging him round, and over him there leant a man’s body with skin all wrinkled and a great hole in its breast that gave forth a smell of burning.“Father,” said Ulenspiegel, “is it you, and is this your poor body that weighs thus upon me?”He received no answer to his question, and although the shadow seemed still quite close, it was from outside the cottage that he heard a voice crying out to him by name, “Tyl! Tyl!”Suddenly Soetkin got out of bed and came over to where Ulenspiegel was lying.“Do you hear something?” she said.“Yes,” he answered, “it is father calling to me.”“I too,” said Soetkin, “I have felt a cold body beside me in my bed, and the mattress has moved, and the curtains. And I heard a voice that spoke my name: ‘Soetkin!’ it said, a voice soft as a whisper. And I heard a step near by, light as the sound of a gnat’s wings.” Then she addressed herself to the spirit of Claes: “If there is aught that you desire in that heaven where God guards you in his glory, you must tell me, my man, that we may know what you would have us do.”All of a sudden a mighty gust of wind came blowing upon the door, and it burst wide open and straightway the room was filled with dust; and from afar, Soetkin and Ulenspiegel could hear the sound of the cawing of many ravens.They went out of the cottage, and came together to the place of torture....It was a black night, save where the clouds—coursing in the sky like stags before the keen north wind—were parted here and there so as to disclose the glittering face of some star.By the remnants of the pile strode a sergeant of the commune, up and down, keeping guard. Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard his steps as they resounded on the hardened ground, and together with that sound there came the cry of a raven, calling his fellows, doubtless; for from far away there came the sound of other caws in answer.Ulenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesUlenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesAs Soetkin and Ulenspiegel approached the pile the raven swooped down upon the shoulder of Claes, and they could hear its beak pecking upon the body. And soon the other ravens followed. Ulenspiegel would have thrown himself upon the pile and beaten them off had not the sergeant come up and prevented him.“Are you a sorcerer,” cried the man, “that comes hither for the hands of the dead as a talisman, and yet do you not know that the hands of a man that has been burnt to deathpossess no power of invisibility, but only hands of one who has been hanged—such as you yourself will be one of these days?”“Sir,” Ulenspiegel replied, “I am no sorcerer, but the orphaned son of the man tied to this stake here. And this woman is the dead man’s widow. We only wish to kiss him once again, and to take away a few of his ashes in his memory. Give us leave, sir, pray, for you are certainly no foreign soldier, but a son of this land.”“Very well,” said the sergeant.So the orphan and the widow made their way over the charred wood and approached the body. Weeping, they both kissed the face of Claes.Then Ulenspiegel found the place where the heart had been, a great hole hollowed out by the flames, and therefrom he took a few ashes. Then Soetkin and he knelt down and said a prayer, and when the sky began to turn pale in the dawn they were still kneeling there together. But the sergeant drove them off, for he was afraid that he would be punished for his kindness.When they were home again Soetkin took a piece of red silk, and a piece of black silk, and she made a little bag to contain the ashes. And on the little bag she sewed two ribbons so that Ulenspiegel could always carry it suspended round his neck. And she gave it to him with these words:“These ashes are the heart of my husband. This red ribbon is his blood. This black one is our sorrow. Always upon your breast let them lie, and call down thereby the fire of vengeance upon his torturers.”“Amen,” said Ulenspiegel.And the widow embraced her orphan, and the sun rose.XLIVIn that year, being the fifty-eighth year of the century, Katheline came into Soetkin’s house and spake as follows:“Last night, being anointed with balm, I was transported to the tower of Notre Dame, and I beheld the elemental spirits that carry the prayers of men to the angels, and they in their turn, flying up towards the highest heaven, bring them to the Throne of God. And everywhere the sky was strewn with glittering stars. Suddenly I saw the figure of a man that seemed all blackened and charred, rising from a funeral pile. Mounting up towards me, this figure took its place beside me on the tower. I saw that it was Claes, just as he was in life, dressed in his charcoal-burner’s clothes. He asked me what I was doing there on the tower of Notre Dame. ‘And you,’ I asked in my turn, ‘whither are you off to, flying in the air like a bird?’ ‘I am going,’ he answered, ‘to judgment. Hear you not the angel’s trump that summons me?’ I was quite close to him, and could feel the very substance of his spiritual body—not hard and resisting to the touch like the bodies of those that are alive, but so rarefied that to come up against it was like advancing into a kind of warm mist. And at my feet stretched out on every side the land of Flanders, with a few lights shining here and there, and I said to myself: ‘They that rise early and work late, surely they are the blessed of God!’ And all the time I could hear the angel’s trumpet calling through the night. And presently I saw another shade mounting up towards me from the land of Spain. This was an old man and decrepit, with a protruding chin, and quince jam all oozing from the corners of his lips.“On its back it wore a cloak of crimson velvet lined with ermine, and on its head an imperial crown, and it kept nibbling a piece of anchovy which it carried in one hand, while in the other hand it clutched a tankard of beer. I could see that this spirit was tired out and had come to the tower of Notre Dame to rest itself. Kneeling down, I addressed it in these words: ‘Most Imperial Majesty, of a truth I revere you, yet I know not who you are. Whencecome you? And what was your position in the world?’ ‘I come,’ answered the shade, ‘from Saint Juste in the country of Estramadoure. I was the Emperor Charles the Fifth.’ ‘But,’ said I, ‘whither, pray, are you going on such a cold night as this, and over these clouds that are all heavy and charged with hail?’ ‘I go,’ answered the shade, ‘to judgment.’“Just as the Emperor was about to finish his anchovy and drink up his tankard of beer, the angel’s trumpet sounded, and straightway he had to betake himself to the air again, grumbling at this sudden interruption of his repast. High aloft he mounted through space, I following close behind; and as he went he hiccuped with fatigue, and coughed asthmatically, even vomited now and again; for death had come upon him at a time when he was suffering from a fit of indigestion. Thus ceaselessly we soared aloft like arrows shot from a bow of cornel-wood. The stars glimmered all around us, and time and again we saw them detach themselves and fall headlong, tracing long strokes of fire upon the sky. Once more the angel’s trump resounded, very shrill and powerful. Each fanfare seemed to cleave for itself a pathway through the cloudy air, scattering the mists asunder like a hurricane that has begun to blow from near at hand. And by this means our track was marked out clearly for us, till at length, when we had been carried up and up a thousand leagues and more, we beheld Christ Himself in His glory, seated upon a throne of stars. And at His right hand was the angel who records the deeds of men upon a register of brass, and at His left hand stood Mary His Mother, she that for ever implores mercy for poor sinners.“Claes and the Emperor knelt down together before the throne. And the angel took off the crown from the head of the Emperor, and cast it away.“‘There is only one Emperor here,’ he said. It is ‘Christ!’“His Sacred Majesty could not conceal his annoyance;yet managed to assume a humble tone of voice as he begged to be allowed to keep his anchovy and his tankard of beer, for that he had come a long way and was very hungry.“‘Hungry you have been all your life,’ said the angel, ‘nevertheless, you may go on with your eating and drinking if you want to.’“The Emperor emptied the tankard of beer and took a nibble at the anchovy. Then Christ addressed him with these words:“‘Do you present yourself to judgment with a clean soul?’“‘I trust so, dear Lord,’ answered Charles the Emperor, ‘for I have confessed my sins and am well shriven.’“‘And you, Claes? You do not seem to be trembling like the Emperor.’“‘My Lord Jesus,’ answered Claes, ‘there is no soul that is clean, and how should I be afraid of you, you that are sovereign good and sovereign justice. Nevertheless, I am afraid of my sins, for they are many.’“‘Speak, carrion!’ said the angel, addressing himself to the Emperor.“‘I, Lord,’ said Charles, in an embarrassed tone of voice, ‘I am he that was anointed with oil by your priests, and crowned King of Castile, Emperor of Germany, and King of the Romans. It has ever been my first care to maintain that power which was given me by you, and to that end I have done my best by hanging and by sword, by burning and by burying alive, by pit and by fire to keep down all Reformers and Protestants.’“But the angel said:“‘O you false and dyspeptic man, you are trying to deceive us. In Germany, forsooth, you were tolerant enough of the Protestants, seeing that there you had good cause to be afraid of them. But in the Netherlands you beheaded, burned, hanged, and buried them alive, for there your only fear was lest you might fail to inherit sufficient of theirproperty—so rich and plenteous, like the honey made by busy bees. And there perished at your hands one hundred thousand souls, not at all because you loved the Lord Christ, but because you were a despot, a tyrant, a waster of your country, and one that loved himself first of all, and after that, nothing but meat, fish, wine, and beer, for you were always as greedy as a dog and as thirsty as a sponge.’“When the angel had made an end, Christ commanded that Claes should speak, but now the angel rose from his place, saying: ‘This man has nothing to answer. He was a good, hard-working man, as are all the poor people of Flanders, willing either for work or play; one that kept faith with his masters and trusted his masters to keep faith with him. But he possessed a certain amount of money, and it was for this reason that an accusation was brought against him, and inasmuch as he had harboured in his house a heretic, he was condemned to be burnt alive.’“‘Alas!’ cried Mary, ‘the poor martyr! But here in heaven there are springs of fresh water, fountains of milk, and exquisite wine which will refresh you, and I myself will lead you there, good charcoal-burner!’“And now the angel’s trumpet sounded yet again, and I saw a man, naked and very beautiful, rising from the abyss. On his head was an iron crown, and on the rim of the crown these words inscribed: ‘Sorrowful till the day of judgment.’“He approached the throne and said to Christ:“‘Thy slave I am until that day when I shall be Thy master!’“‘O Satan,’ said Mary, ‘the day will come when there shall be neither slave nor master any more, and when Christ who is Love, and Satan who is Pride, shall stand forth together as the One Lord both of Power and of Knowledge.’“‘Woman,’ said Satan, ‘thou art all goodness and all beauty.’“Then addressing himself to Christ, and pointing at thesame time towards the Emperor, Satan demanded what was to be done with him. Christ answered:“‘Take this crowned wormling and put him in a room wherein you have collected together all instruments of torture which were in use under his rule. And each time that some innocent wretch is made to suffer the torture of water, whereby the bodies of men swell up like bladders; or the torture of the candles, whereby the soles of their feet or their armpits are burned and scorched; or the torture of thestrappado, whereby their limbs are broken; or the torture of the four wagons that drags them asunder—and every time that a free soul breathes out its last upon the funeral pile let this man also endure in his turn these same deaths and tortures, to the end that he may learn in his own person what evil may be wrought in the world by an unjust man who has power over his fellows. Let him languish in prison, let him meet death upon the scaffold, let him mourn in exile, far from his native land, let him be scorned, abused, and flogged with many whips. Let him know what it is to be rich and see all his property eaten up by the tax-gatherer, let him be accused by informers and ruined by confiscations. Turn him into an ass that he may know what it is to be gentle by nature and at the same time ill-treated and badly fed; let him be a poor man that asks for alms and is answered only with abuse; let him be a workman that labours too long and eats too little; and then, when he has thus well suffered both in his body and his soul, turn him into a dog that he may be beaten, an Indian slave that he may be sold to the highest bidder, a soldier that he may fight for another and be killed without knowing why. And then, at the end of three hundred years, when he has exhausted all sufferings and all miseries, make a free man of him, and if in that state of life he is good like Claes here, you may lay at last his body to rest in some quiet corner of earth that is shady in the noonday heat and open to the morning sun, and there beneath a beautifultree and covered with fresh sward, he shall find eternal repose. And his friends shall come to his grave to moisten it with their tears, and to sow violets there, which are called the flowers of remembrance.’“But Mary said: ‘Have mercy upon him, O my Son; he knew not what he did, and we know how power hardens the heart.’“‘There is no mercy for him,’ said Christ.“‘Alas!’ cried His Sacred Majesty, ‘woe is me! Would that I had but a single glass of Andalusian wine!’“‘Come,’ said Satan, ‘it is past the time for wine or meat or poultry!’“And away he carried off the soul of the poor Emperor, down to the nethermost hell, still nibbling as he went his piece of anchovy. For this Satan suffered him to do out of pity.“Thereafter I saw that Our Lady conducted Claes away and up into the highest heaven, where is nothing but stars hanging from the roof like clusters of grapes. And there the angels washed him clean, and he became all beautiful and young, and they gave himrystpapto drink in silver ladles. And then the heavens closed.”“Claes is in glory,” said the widow.“His ashes beat against my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.XLVDuring all the three and twenty days that followed, Katheline grew paler and paler, and thin and all dried up as though devoured not only by the madness that consumed her but by some interior fire that was even deadlier still. No more did she cry out as of old: “Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!” But she was continually transported into a kind of ecstasy, in which she spake to Nele many strange words.“A wife I am,” she said, “and a wife you also ought to be.My husband is a handsome man. A hairy man is he, hot with love. But his knees and his arms, they are cold!” And Soetkin looked at her sadly, wondering what new kind of madness this might be. But Katheline continued:“Three times three are nine, the sacred number. He whose eyes glitter in the night like the eyes of a cat—he only it is that sees the mystery.”One evening when Katheline was talking in this way, Soetkin made a gesture of misgiving. But Katheline said:“Under Saturn, four and three mean misfortune. But under Venus, it is the marriage number. Cold arms! Cold knees! Heart of fire!”Soetkin answered:“It is wrong to talk in this way of these wicked pagan idols.”But Katheline only crossed herself and said:“Blessed be the grey horseman. Nele must have a husband—a handsome husband that carries a sword, a dusky husband with a shining face!”“Yes,” cried Ulenspiegel, “a very fricassee of a husband, for whom I will make a sauce with my knife!”Nele looked at her lover with eyes that were moist with pleasure to see him so jealous.“None of your husbands for me!” she said.But Katheline made answer:“When cometh he? He that is clad in grey, and booted and spurred?”Soetkin bade them say a prayer to God for the poor afflicted one, whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch four quarts ofdobbel kuytwhat time she made ready someheete-koeken, as pancakes are called in Flanders.Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Saturday like the Jews.“Because the butter is ready,” said Katheline.So Ulenspiegel stood up and took in his hand the big pot of English pewter that held just four quarts.“Mother,” he asked, “what shall I do?”“Go,” said Katheline.Soetkin did not like to say anything more, for she was not mistress of the house. So she told her son to go and do as Katheline had bidden him. Ulenspiegel ran to the tavern and brought back with him the four quarts ofdobbel kuyt. And soon the kitchen reeked with the good smell of pancakes, and every one felt hungry, even the poor afflicted Katheline.Ulenspiegel ate heartily, and drank heartily also, for Katheline had given him a full tankard, saying, with a malicious look, that it behoved him to drink more than the others seeing that he was the only male and the head of the house. Afterwards she asked him to give them a song.But Ulenspiegel did not sing, and Nele was all tearful, seeing Soetkin so pale, and as it were all sunken into herself. Katheline alone of them all appeared to be happy.When the meal was over Soetkin and Ulenspiegel went up into the loft to bed. Katheline and Nele stayed behind, for they slept together in the kitchen.All was quiet until the second hour after midnight. Ulenspiegel had already been asleep for a long time because of all the beer he had been drinking. But Soetkin, as her custom was, lay on with eyes wide open, praying Our Lady to send her sleep, but with no avail.All of a sudden she heard the cry of a sea-eagle, and from the kitchen came a like cry, in answer. Then, from far off in the country somewhere, other cries resounded, always as it seemed in answer to that cry in the kitchen just below.Soetkin tried to think it was only the night-birds calling to one another, and endeavoured to distract her attention from those sounds. But presently she heard a neighing of horses and a noise as of iron sabots beating along the high road. Then it was that she opened the window of the loftand saw that in very fact there were a couple of horses saddled just outside the cottage, pawing the ground and nibbling the grass that grew by the side of the road. Thereafter she heard the voice of a woman crying out in fear, and a man’s voice threatening, followed by the sound of blows, more cries, a door shutting with a bang, and then steps running up the ladder in mortal fear:Allthistime Ulenspiegel was snoring away in his bed, hearing nothing, till the door of the loft opened and Nele came in, out of breath, sobbing, and with scarcely anything on. As hastily as she could the girl dragged against the door a table, some chairs, an old heating stove, any bit of furniture that was to hand. With these she made a rough-and-ready barricade. Meanwhile, outside, the last stars were paling in the heavens and the cocks beginning to crow.Ulenspiegel had turned over in his bed at the noise Nele was making, but now he had gone to sleep again. Nele, meanwhile, had thrown herself on to Soetkin’s neck.“Soetkin,” she said, “I am afraid. Light the candle, do!”Soetkin did so, and all the time Nele never left off moaning. By the light of the candle Soetkin looked the girl up and down. Her shift was torn at the shoulder and in front, and there were traces of blood upon her neck and cheek, such as might be left by the scratch of a finger-nail.“Whence have you come? And what are these wounds?” Soetkin asked her.Trembling and groaning all the time, the girl made answer:“For mercy’s sake, Soetkin, do not bring us to the stake!”Ulenspiegel meanwhile had awakened from his sleep, and was blinking his eyes in the sudden light of the candle. Soetkin said:“Who is it down there?”“Not so loud!” Nele whispered. “It is the husband Katheline desired for me.”All at once Soetkin and Nele heard Katheline cry out in aloud voice, and their legs gave way beneath them in their terror.“He is beating her,” said Nele, “he is beating her because of me!”“Who is it in the house?” cried Ulenspiegel, jumping out of bed. And then, rubbing his eyes, he went stalking up and down the room till at last he found a heavy poker that stood in the corner. He took hold of it, but Nele tried to dissuade him, telling him that there was no one there. But he paid no attention, running to the door and throwing to one side the chairs and tables and the stove that Nele had piled up in front of it. All this time Katheline was crying out from the kitchen, and Nele and Soetkin held Ulenspiegel—the one by the waist, the other by the legs—and tried to prevent him from descending the stairs. “Don’t go down,” they told him. “Don’t go down, Ulenspiegel. There are devils down there.”“Forsooth,” says he, “Nele’s devil-husband! Him verily will I join in marriage to this long poker of mine! A marriage of iron and flesh! Let me go!”But they did not loose their hold, hanging on as they were to the landing rail.And all the time Ulenspiegel was trying to drag them down the staircase, and they the more frightened as they came nearer to the devils below. And they could avail naught against him, so that at last, descending now by leaps and bounds like a snowball that falls from the top of a mountain, he came into the kitchen. And there was Katheline, all exhausted and pale in the light of dawn.“Hanske,” she was saying, “O Hanske, why must you leave me? Is it my fault if Nele is naughty?”Ulenspiegel did not take any notice of her, but straightway opened the door of the shed, and finding no one there, rushed out into the yard, and thence into the high road. Far away he descried two horses galloping off and disappearing in themist. He ran after them hoping to overtake them, but he could not, for they went like a south wind that scours the dry autumn leaves.Ulenspiegel was angry with disappointment, and he came back into the cottage grieving sore in his heart and muttering between his teeth:“They have done their worst on her! They have done their worst!...”And he looked on Nele with eyes that burned with an evil flame. But Nele, all trembling, stood up before Katheline and the widow.“No!” she cried. “No, Tyl, my lover! No!”And as she spoke she looked him straight in the face, so sadly and so frankly that Ulenspiegel saw clearly that what she said was true. Then he spake again, and questioned her:“But whence came those cries, and whither went those men? Why is your shift all torn on the shoulder and the back? And why do you bear on forehead and cheek these marks of a man’s nails?”“I will tell you,” she said, “but be careful that you do not have us burned at the stake for what I shall tell you. You must know that Katheline—whom God save from Hell—hath had these three-and-twenty days a devil for her lover. He is dressed all in black, he is booted and spurred. His face gleams with a flame of fire like what one sees in summer-time when it is hot, on the waves of the sea.”And Katheline whimpered: “Why, oh why, have you left me, Hanske, my pet? Nele is naughty!”But Nele went on with her story:“The devil announces his approach in a voice that is like the crying of a sea-eagle. Every Saturday my mother receives him in the kitchen. And she says that his kisses are cold and that his body is like snow. One time he brought her some florins, but he took from her all the other money that she had.”All this time Soetkin kept on praying for Katheline, with clasped hands. But Katheline spake joyfully:“My body is mine no more. My mind is mine no more. O Hanske, my pet, take me with you yet once again, I beg you, to the Witches’ Sabbath. Only Nele will never come. Nele is naughty, I tell you.”But Nele went on with her story:“At dawn,” she said, “the devil would go away, and the next day my mother would relate to me a hundred strange things. But, Tyl dear, you must not look at me with those cruel eyes.... Yesterday, for instance, she told me that a splendid prince, clad in grey, Hilbert by name, was anxious to take me in marriage, and that he was coming here himself that I might see him. I told her that I wanted no husband, handsome or plain. Nevertheless, by weight of her maternal authority she persuaded me to stay up for him, for she certainly keeps all her wits about her in whatever pertains to her amours. Well, we were half undressed, ready to go to bed; and I had gone off to sleep sitting on that chair. It seems that I did not wake up when they came in, and the first thing I knew was that some one was embracing me and kissing me on the neck. And then, by the bright light of the moon, I beheld a face that shone like the crests of the waves of a July sea when there is thunder in the air, and I heard a low voice speaking to me and saying: ‘I am your husband, Hilbert. Be mine! I will make thee rich.’ And from the face of him that spake these words there came an odour like the odour of fish. Quickly I pushed that face away from me, but the man tried to take me by force, and although I had the strength of ten against him, he managed to tear my shift and scratch my face, crying out the while that if only I would give myself to him he would make me rich. ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘as rich as my mother, whom you have deprived of her lastliard!’ At that he redoubled his violence, but he could not do anything against me. And at last, since he was moredisgusting than a corpse, I scratched him in the eye with my nails so sharply that he cried out with pain, and I was able to make my escape and run up here to Soetkin.”And all this while Katheline kept on with her “Nele is naughty. And why did you go away so soon, O Hanske, my pet?”But Soetkin asked her where she had been while wicked men were attempting the honour of her child.“It is Nele that is naughty,” Katheline replied. “As for me, I was in company of my black master, when the devil in grey comes to us, with his face all bloody. ‘Come away,’ he cries, ‘come away, my boy, this is an evil house; for the men, it seems, are of a mind to fight with one to the death, and the women carry knives at the tips of their fingers.’ And there and then they ran off to their horses, and disappeared in the mist. Ah, Nele, Nele! She is a naughty lass, I tell you!”

XXXIXBorgstorm, the great bell of Damme, had summoned the judges to judgment. It was four o’clock, and now they were collected together at theVierschare, around the Tree of Justice.Claes was brought before them. Seated upon the dais was the high bailiff of Damme, and by his side, opposite Claes, the mayor, the alderman, and the clerk of the court.The populace ran together at the sound of the bell. A great crowd they were, and many of them were saying that the judges were there to do—not justice—but merely the will of His Imperial Majesty....After certain preliminaries, the high bailiff began to make proclamation of the acts and deeds for which Claes had been summoned before that tribunal.“The informer,” he said, “had been staying by chance at Damme, not wishing to spend all his money at Bruges in feasting and festivity as is too often the case during these sacred occasions. On a time, then, when he was taking the air soberly on his own doorstep, he saw a man walking towards him along the rue Héron. This man Claes also saw, and went up to him and greeted him. The stranger, who was dressed all in black, entered the house of Claes, leaving the door into the street half open. Curious to find out who the man was,the informer went into the vestibule, and heard Claes talking to the stranger in the kitchen. The talk was all about a certain Josse, the brother of Claes, who it seems had been made prisoner among the army of the Reformers, and had suffered the punishment of being broken alive on the wheel of torture, not far from Aix. The stranger said that he had brought Claes a sum of money which his brother had desired to leave him, which money having been gained from the ignorant and poverty-stricken, it behoved Claes to spend it in bringing up his own son in the Reformed Faith. He also urged Claes to quit the bosom of our Holy Mother Church, and spake also many other impious words to which the only reply vouchsafed by Claes was this: ‘The cruel brutes! Alas, my poor Josse!’ So did the prisoner blaspheme against our Holy Father the Pope and against His Royal Majesty, accusing them of cruelty in that they rightly had punished heresy as a crime of treason against God and man. When the stranger had finished the meal that Claes put before him, our agent heard Claes cry out again: ‘Alas, poor Josse! May God keep thee in his glory! How cruel they were to thee!’ And thus did he accuse God himself of impiety by this suggestion that He could receive a heretic into His heaven. Nor did Claes ever cease to cry aloud: ‘Alas! Alas! My poor Josse!’ The stranger then, launching out into a frenzy, like a preacher beginning his sermon, fell to revile most shamefully our Holy Mother the Church. ‘She will fall,’ he shouted, ‘she will fall, the mighty Babylon, the whore of Rome, and she will become the abode of demons, and the haunt of every bird accursed.’ And Claes meanwhile continued the same old cry: ‘Cruel brutes! Alas, poor Josse!’ And the stranger went on in the same way as he had begun, saying: ‘Verily an angel shall appear that shall take a stone that is great as a millstone, and shall cast it into the sea, crying: “Thus shall it be done to Babylon the mighty, and she shall be no more seen.”’ Whereupon, ‘Sir,’says Claes, ‘your mouth is full of bitterness; but tell me, when cometh that kingdom in which they that are gentle of heart shall be able to dwell in peace upon the earth?’ ‘Never,’ answered the stranger, ‘while yet my Lord Antichrist rules, that is the Pope, who is to-day the enemy to all truth.’ ‘Ah,’ said Claes, ‘you speak with little respect of the Holy Father. But he, surely, is ignorant of the cruel punishments which are meted out to poor Reformers.’ ‘Not at all,’ answered the stranger, ‘and far from it, for it is he who initiates the decrees and causes them to be put into force by the Emperor, now by the King. The latter enjoys all the benefits of confiscation, inherits the property of the dead, and finds it easy to bring charges of heresy against those who have any wealth.’ Claes said: ‘Indeed I know that such things are freely spoken of in the land of Flanders, and one may well believe them, for the flesh of man is weak, even though the flesh be royal flesh. O my poor Josse!’ And by this did Claes give to understand that heretics are punished because of a vile desire on the part of His Majesty for filthy lucre. The stranger wished to argue the matter further, but Claes said: ‘Please, sir, do not let us continue this conversation, for if it were overheard I might easily find myself involved in some awkward inquiry.’ Then Claes got up to go to the cellar, whence he presently returned with a pot of beer. ‘I am going to shut the door,’ said he, and after that the informer heard nothing more, for he had to make his way out of the house as quickly as he could. Not till it was night was the door again opened, and then the stranger came forth. But he soon returned, knocking at the door and calling to Claes: ‘It is very cold, and I know not where I am to lodge this night. Give me shelter, pray. No one has seen me. The town is deserted.’ Claes welcomed him in, lit a lantern, and last of all he was seen to be leading the heretic up the staircase into a little attic room with a window that looked out on to the country.”At this Claes cried out: “And who could have reported all this but you, you wicked fishmonger! I saw you on Sunday, standing at your door, as straight as a post, gazing up, like the hypocrite you are, at the swallows in their flight!”And as he spoke, he pointed with his finger at Josse Grypstuiver, the Dean of the Fishmongers, who showed his ugly phiz in the crowd of people. And the fishmonger gave an evil smile when he saw Claes betraying himself in this way. And the people in the crowd, men, women, and maids, looked one at the other and said: “Poor good man, his words will be the death of him without a doubt.”But the clerk continued his depositions.“Claes and the heretic stayed talking together for a long time that night, and so for six other nights, during which time the stranger was seen to make many gestures of menace or of benediction, and to lift up his hands to heaven as do his fellow-heretics. And Claes appeared to approve of what he said. And there is no doubt that throughout these days and nights they were speaking together opprobriously of the Mass, of the confessional, of indulgences, and of the Royal Majesty....”“No one heard it,” said Claes, “and I cannot be accused in this way without any evidence.”The clerk answered:“There is something else that was overheard. The evening that the stranger left your roof, seven days after he had first come to you, you went with him as far as the end of Katheline’s field. There he asked you what you had done with the wicked idols”—here the bailiff crossed himself—“of Madame the Virgin, and of St. Nicholas and St. Martin. You replied that you had broken them all up and thrown them into the well. They were, in fact, found in the well last night, and the pieces are now in the torture-chamber.”At these words Claes appeared to be quite overcome.The bailiff asked if he had nothing to answer. Claes made a sign with his head in the negative.The bailiff asked him if he would not recant the accursed thoughts which had led him to break the images, and the impious delusion whereby he had spoken such evil words against Pope and Emperor, who were both divine personages.Claes replied that his body was the Emperor’s, but that his soul was Christ’s, whose law he desired to obey. The bailiff asked him if this law were the same as that of Holy Mother Church. Claes answered:“The law of Christ is written in the Holy Gospel.”When ordered to answer the question as to whether the Pope is the representative of God on earth, he answered, “No.”When asked if he believed that it was forbidden to adore images of Our Lady and of the saints, he replied that such was idolatry. Questioned as to whether the practice of auricular confession was a good and salutary thing, he answered: “Christ said, confess your sins one to another.”He spoke out bravely, though at the same time it was evident that he was ill at ease and in his heart afraid.At length, eight o’clock having sounded and evening coming on, the members of the tribunal retired, deferring their judgment until the morrow.XLThe next day the great bell,Borgstorm, clanged out its summons to the judges of the tribunal. When they were all assembled at theVierschare, seated upon the four benches that were set around the lime-tree, Claes was cross-examined afresh, and asked if he was willing to recant his errors.But Claes lifted his hand towards heaven:“The Lord Christ beholdeth me from on high,” he said, “and when my son Ulenspiegel was born I also gazed uponHis Sun. Where is Ulenspiegel now? Where is he now, the vagabond? O Soetkin, sweet wife, will you be brave in the day of trouble?”Then looking at the lime-tree he cursed it, saying: “South wind and drouth, I adjure you to make the trees of our fathers perish one and all where they stand, rather than that beneath their shade freedom of conscience shall be judged to death! O Ulenspiegel, my son, where are you? Harsh was I unto you in days gone by. But now, good sirs, take pity on me, and be merciful to me in your judgment, even as Our Lord would be merciful.”And all that heard him wept, save only the judges.Then Claes asked them a second time if they would not pardon him, saying:“Truly I was always a hard-working man, and one that gained little for all his toil. I was good to the poor and kind to every one. And if I have left the Roman Church it is only in obedience to the spirit of God that spake to me. I ask for no grace except that the pain of fire may be commuted to a sentence of perpetual banishment from the land of Flanders. Banishment for life! A sufficient punishment that, surely!”And all they that were present cried aloud:“Have pity upon him! Have mercy!”But Josse Grypstuiver held his peace.Now the bailiff made a sign to the company that they should keep silence, adding that the placards contained a clause which expressly forbade the petitioning of mercy for heretics. But he said that if Claes would abjure his heresy he should be executed by hanging instead of by burning. And the people murmured:“What matters burning or hanging, they both mean death!”And the women wept and the men murmured under their breath.Claes said:“I will abjure nothing. Do to my body whatsoever is pleasing to your mercy.”Then spoke the Dean of Renaix, Titelman by name:“It is intolerable that these vermin of heretics should raise up their heads in this way before their judges. After all, the burning of the body is but a passing pain, and torture is necessary for the saving of souls, and for the recantation of error, lest the people be given the dangerous spectacle of heretics dying in a state of final impenitence.”At these words the women wept still more, and the men said: “In those cases where the crime is confessed punishment may be rightly inflicted, but torture is illegal!”The tribunal decided that since indeed it was a fact that the ordinances did not order torture to be applied in such cases, there was no occasion to insist that Claes should suffer it. He was asked once more if he would not recant.“I cannot,” he answered.Then, in accordance with the ordinances, sentence was passed upon him. He was declared guilty of simony in that he had taken part in the sale of indulgences, and he was also declared to be a heretic and a harbourer of heretics, and as such he was condemned to be burned alive before the hoardings of the Town Hall. His body was to be left hanging on the stake for the space of two days as a warning to others, and afterwards it was to be interred in the place set apart for the bodies of executed criminals. To the informer, Josse Grypstuiver (whose name had never been mentioned throughout the whole trial), the tribunal ordered to be paid the sum of fifty florins calculated on the first hundred florins of the inheritance of the deceased, and a tenth part of the remainder.When he heard the sentence that had been passed upon him, Claes turned to the Dean of the Fishmongers.“You will come to a bad end,” he said, “you wicked manthat for a paltry sum of money have turned a happy wife into a widow, and a joyous son into a grieving orphan.”The judges suffered Claes to speak in this way for they also, all except Titelman, could not help despising from the bottom of their hearts the Dean of the Fishmongers for the information he had given. Grypstuiver himself went pale with shame and anger.And Claes was led back to his prison.XLIOn the morrow (which was the day before the execution of Claes) the decision of the court was made known to Nele, to Ulenspiegel, and Soetkin. They asked the judges for leave to visit Claes in prison, which permission was granted in the case of the wife and the son only.On entering the prison cell they found Claes tied to the wall by a long chain. A small fire was burning in the grate because of the damp. For it is custom and law in Flanders that they who are condemned to death shall be gently treated and be given bread and meat to eat, or cheese and wine. Still gaolers are a greedy race, and oftentimes the law is broken, there being many prison guards who themselves eat up the greater part of the nourishment provided for the poor prisoners, or keep the best morsels for themselves.Claes embraced Ulenspiegel and Soetkin, crying the while. But he was the first to dry his eyes, for he put control upon himself, being a man and the head of the family. Soetkin, however, went on crying, and Ulenspiegel kept muttering under his breath:“I must break these wicked chains!”And Soetkin said through her tears:“I shall go to King Philip. He surely will have mercy!”But Claes answered that this would be no use since the King was wont to possess himself of the property of those who died as martyrs.... He said also:“My wife and child, my best beloved, it is with sadness and sorrow that I am about to leave this world. If I have some natural apprehension for my own bodily sufferings, I am no less concerned when I think of you and of how poor and wretched you will be when I am gone, for the King will certainly seize for himself all your goods.”Ulenspiegel made answer, speaking in a low voice for fear of being overheard:“Yesterday Nele and I hid all the money.”“I am glad,” Claes answered; “the informer will not laugh when he comes to count his plunder.”“I had rather he died than had a penny of it,” said Soetkin with a look of hate in her eyes now dry of tears. But Claes, who was still thinking about the caroluses, said to Ulenspiegel:“That was clever of you, Tyl, my lad; now Soetkin need not be afraid of going hungry in the old age of her widowhood.”And Claes embraced her, pressing her close to his breast, and she wept all the more bitterly as she thought how soon she was to lose his tender protection.Claes looked at Ulenspiegel and said:“My son, it was wrong of you to go running off along the high roads of the world like any ruffian. You must not do that any more, my boy. You must not leave her alone at home, my widow in her sorrow. For now it is your duty to protect her and take care of her—you, a man.”“I will, father,” said Ulenspiegel.“O my poor husband!” cried Soetkin embracing him again. “What crime can we have committed? Nay, we lived our life peaceably together, lowly and humbly, loving each other well—how well Thou, Lord, knowest! Early in the morning we rose for work, and at eventide, rendering our thanks to Thee, we ate our daily bread. Oh, would that I could come at this King, and tear him with my nails! For in nothing, O Lord God, have we offended!”But here the gaoler entered and said that it was time for them to depart.Soetkin begged to be allowed to stay, and Claes felt her poor face burning hot as it touched his, and her tears falling in floods and wetting all his cheek, and her poor body shaking and trembling in his arms. He, too, entreated the gaoler that she might be suffered to remain with him. But the gaoler was obdurate, and removed Soetkin by force from the arms of Claes.“Take care of her,” Claes said to Ulenspiegel.He promised, and son and mother left the room together, she supported in his arms.XLIIThe next day, which was the day of the execution, the neighbours, out of pity for their suffering, came and shut up Soetkin and Nele and Ulenspiegel in Katheline’s cottage. For they could not bear that they should see the terrible sight of the burning. Yet it had been forgotten that the far-off cries of the tormented one would reach the cottage, and that those within would be able to see through the windows the flames of the fire.Katheline, meanwhile, went wandering through the town, wagging her head and crying out continually:“Make a hole! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!”At nine of the clock Claes was led out of his prison. He was dressed in a shirt only, and his hands were tied behind his back. In accordance with the sentence that had been passed upon him, the pile was set up in the rue Notre Dame, with a stake in the midst, just in front of the hoarding of the Town Hall. When they arrived there the executioner and his assistants had not yet completed the work of stacking the wood. Claes stood patiently in the midst of his tormentors watching while the work was finished, and all the time the provost on his horse, with the officers of the tribunal and thenine foot-soldiers that had been summoned from Bruges, had the greatest difficulty in keeping order among the people. For they murmured one to another, saying that it was cruelty thus to do to death unjustly a man like Claes, a poor man and already old in years, and one that was so gentle, so forgiving, and such a good and steady workman.Suddenly they all fell upon their knees and began to pray, for the bells of Notre Dame were heard tolling for the dead.Katheline also was among the crowd, right in the front, mad as she was. Fixing her eye on Claes and the pile of wood, she wagged her head and cried continually:“Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!”When Nele and Soetkin heard the sound of the tolling they crossed themselves. But Ulenspiegel did not cross himself, saying that he would never pray to God after the same fashion as those hangmen. But he ran about the cottage, trying to force open the doors or jump from the windows. But they were shut and fastened well.Suddenly Soetkin hid her face in her apron.“The smoke!” she cried.And in very fact, the three mourners could see, mounting high to heaven, a great eddy of smoke; all black it was, the smoke of the funeral pile whereon was Claes, tied to a stake, the smoke of that fire which the executioner had just set burning in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.Claes looked around for Soetkin or Ulenspiegel. But not seeing them anywhere in the crowd he felt happier and more at ease, thinking that they would not know how he suffered. And all the time there was a silence like death, except for the sound of Claes’ voice praying, and the crackling of the wood, the murmuring of men, the weeping of the women, the voice of Katheline as she cried: “Put out the fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!” and over all, the bells of Notre Dame tolling for the dead.Suddenly Soetkin’s face went as white as snow, and her body trembled all over. She did not utter a sound, but pointed to the sky with her finger. For there a long, straight flame of fire had risen above the pyre, and now was leaping high above the roofs of the lower houses. It was a flame of pain and cruelty to Claes, for following the caprice of the breeze, it preyed upon his legs, or touched his head so that it smoked, licking and singeing his hair.Ulenspiegel took Soetkin in his arms and tried to tear her away from the window. Then they heard a sharp cry, the cry which came from Claes when one side of his body was burnt by the dancing flames. But then he was silent again, weeping to himself. And his breast was all wet with his tears.Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together:“He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!”The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob.“Kill him!” they shouted. “Put him out of his misery!” And they began to throw missiles at the provost.Soetkin cried aloud: “The flame! The great flame!”And in very truth they saw now a great red flame, mounting heavenwards, in the midst of the smoke.“He is about to die,” said the widow. “O Lord, of your mercy receive the soul of this innocent. Where is the King, that I may go and tear out his heart with my nails?”And all the while the bells of Notre Dame kept tolling for the dead. Yet again did Soetkin hear a great cry from her husband; but mercifully she was spared the sight of his body writhing in the agony of the fire, and his twisted face, and his head that he turned from side to side and beat upon the wood of the stake. Meanwhile the crowd continued toshout and to hiss, and the boys threw stones, until all of a sudden the whole pile of wood caught alight, and the voice of Claes was heard crying out from the midst of the flame and smoke:“Soetkin! Tyl!”And then his head fell down upon his breast as though it were made of lead.And there came a cry, most piteous and piercing, from the cottage of Katheline; and after that there was silence, except for the poor mad woman wagging her head and saying:“My soul wants to get out!”Claes was dead. The fire burned itself away, smouldering at the foot of the stake whereon the poor body still hung by its neck.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.XLIIIIn Katheline’s cottage Soetkin stood leaning against the wall, with her head hanging down and her hands clasped together. She held Ulenspiegel in her arms, speechless and without a tear. Neither did Ulenspiegel say anything. It made him afraid to feel the burning fever that raged in the body of his mother.The neighbours, returning from the place of execution, came to the cottage and told how Claes had made an end of his sufferings.“He is in glory,” said the widow.“Pray for him,” said Nele, putting her rosary into the hands of Ulenspiegel. But he would make no use of it, giving as his reason that the beads had been blessed by the Pope.At last night came, and Ulenspiegel urged his mother to go to bed, telling her that he himself would sit up and keep watch in the room. But Soetkin said that there was no need for him to do that. Let him sleep also, for the young haveneed of a good night’s rest. So Nele prepared two beds for them in the kitchen, and after that she left them.Mother and son stayed up together while what remained of the wood fire burned itself out in the grate. Then Soetkin retired to her bed, and Ulenspiegel did likewise, listening to his mother sobbing to herself under the bedclothes.Outside in the silence of the night the wind made a murmuring sound in the trees by the canal. It was like the far-off sound of waves, and it meant that autumn was coming soon. Also, there were great eddies of dust that beat against the cottage windows.Now it seemed to Ulenspiegel that he saw the figure of a man going to and fro in the room, and he thought he heard the sound of footsteps coming and going in the kitchen. But when he looked he no longer saw the man, and listening he no longer heard those footsteps, but only the sound of the wind as it whistled in the chimney and Soetkin crying under the bedclothes.Then once again he heard those footsteps, and just behind him, near his head, a soft sigh.“Who is it?” he said.No one answered, but quite distinctly came the sound of three taps on the table. Ulenspiegel was afraid, and began to tremble. “Who is it?” he said again. No one answered, but once more there came the three taps upon the table, and after that he felt two arms hugging him round, and over him there leant a man’s body with skin all wrinkled and a great hole in its breast that gave forth a smell of burning.“Father,” said Ulenspiegel, “is it you, and is this your poor body that weighs thus upon me?”He received no answer to his question, and although the shadow seemed still quite close, it was from outside the cottage that he heard a voice crying out to him by name, “Tyl! Tyl!”Suddenly Soetkin got out of bed and came over to where Ulenspiegel was lying.“Do you hear something?” she said.“Yes,” he answered, “it is father calling to me.”“I too,” said Soetkin, “I have felt a cold body beside me in my bed, and the mattress has moved, and the curtains. And I heard a voice that spoke my name: ‘Soetkin!’ it said, a voice soft as a whisper. And I heard a step near by, light as the sound of a gnat’s wings.” Then she addressed herself to the spirit of Claes: “If there is aught that you desire in that heaven where God guards you in his glory, you must tell me, my man, that we may know what you would have us do.”All of a sudden a mighty gust of wind came blowing upon the door, and it burst wide open and straightway the room was filled with dust; and from afar, Soetkin and Ulenspiegel could hear the sound of the cawing of many ravens.They went out of the cottage, and came together to the place of torture....It was a black night, save where the clouds—coursing in the sky like stags before the keen north wind—were parted here and there so as to disclose the glittering face of some star.By the remnants of the pile strode a sergeant of the commune, up and down, keeping guard. Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard his steps as they resounded on the hardened ground, and together with that sound there came the cry of a raven, calling his fellows, doubtless; for from far away there came the sound of other caws in answer.Ulenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesUlenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesAs Soetkin and Ulenspiegel approached the pile the raven swooped down upon the shoulder of Claes, and they could hear its beak pecking upon the body. And soon the other ravens followed. Ulenspiegel would have thrown himself upon the pile and beaten them off had not the sergeant come up and prevented him.“Are you a sorcerer,” cried the man, “that comes hither for the hands of the dead as a talisman, and yet do you not know that the hands of a man that has been burnt to deathpossess no power of invisibility, but only hands of one who has been hanged—such as you yourself will be one of these days?”“Sir,” Ulenspiegel replied, “I am no sorcerer, but the orphaned son of the man tied to this stake here. And this woman is the dead man’s widow. We only wish to kiss him once again, and to take away a few of his ashes in his memory. Give us leave, sir, pray, for you are certainly no foreign soldier, but a son of this land.”“Very well,” said the sergeant.So the orphan and the widow made their way over the charred wood and approached the body. Weeping, they both kissed the face of Claes.Then Ulenspiegel found the place where the heart had been, a great hole hollowed out by the flames, and therefrom he took a few ashes. Then Soetkin and he knelt down and said a prayer, and when the sky began to turn pale in the dawn they were still kneeling there together. But the sergeant drove them off, for he was afraid that he would be punished for his kindness.When they were home again Soetkin took a piece of red silk, and a piece of black silk, and she made a little bag to contain the ashes. And on the little bag she sewed two ribbons so that Ulenspiegel could always carry it suspended round his neck. And she gave it to him with these words:“These ashes are the heart of my husband. This red ribbon is his blood. This black one is our sorrow. Always upon your breast let them lie, and call down thereby the fire of vengeance upon his torturers.”“Amen,” said Ulenspiegel.And the widow embraced her orphan, and the sun rose.XLIVIn that year, being the fifty-eighth year of the century, Katheline came into Soetkin’s house and spake as follows:“Last night, being anointed with balm, I was transported to the tower of Notre Dame, and I beheld the elemental spirits that carry the prayers of men to the angels, and they in their turn, flying up towards the highest heaven, bring them to the Throne of God. And everywhere the sky was strewn with glittering stars. Suddenly I saw the figure of a man that seemed all blackened and charred, rising from a funeral pile. Mounting up towards me, this figure took its place beside me on the tower. I saw that it was Claes, just as he was in life, dressed in his charcoal-burner’s clothes. He asked me what I was doing there on the tower of Notre Dame. ‘And you,’ I asked in my turn, ‘whither are you off to, flying in the air like a bird?’ ‘I am going,’ he answered, ‘to judgment. Hear you not the angel’s trump that summons me?’ I was quite close to him, and could feel the very substance of his spiritual body—not hard and resisting to the touch like the bodies of those that are alive, but so rarefied that to come up against it was like advancing into a kind of warm mist. And at my feet stretched out on every side the land of Flanders, with a few lights shining here and there, and I said to myself: ‘They that rise early and work late, surely they are the blessed of God!’ And all the time I could hear the angel’s trumpet calling through the night. And presently I saw another shade mounting up towards me from the land of Spain. This was an old man and decrepit, with a protruding chin, and quince jam all oozing from the corners of his lips.“On its back it wore a cloak of crimson velvet lined with ermine, and on its head an imperial crown, and it kept nibbling a piece of anchovy which it carried in one hand, while in the other hand it clutched a tankard of beer. I could see that this spirit was tired out and had come to the tower of Notre Dame to rest itself. Kneeling down, I addressed it in these words: ‘Most Imperial Majesty, of a truth I revere you, yet I know not who you are. Whencecome you? And what was your position in the world?’ ‘I come,’ answered the shade, ‘from Saint Juste in the country of Estramadoure. I was the Emperor Charles the Fifth.’ ‘But,’ said I, ‘whither, pray, are you going on such a cold night as this, and over these clouds that are all heavy and charged with hail?’ ‘I go,’ answered the shade, ‘to judgment.’“Just as the Emperor was about to finish his anchovy and drink up his tankard of beer, the angel’s trumpet sounded, and straightway he had to betake himself to the air again, grumbling at this sudden interruption of his repast. High aloft he mounted through space, I following close behind; and as he went he hiccuped with fatigue, and coughed asthmatically, even vomited now and again; for death had come upon him at a time when he was suffering from a fit of indigestion. Thus ceaselessly we soared aloft like arrows shot from a bow of cornel-wood. The stars glimmered all around us, and time and again we saw them detach themselves and fall headlong, tracing long strokes of fire upon the sky. Once more the angel’s trump resounded, very shrill and powerful. Each fanfare seemed to cleave for itself a pathway through the cloudy air, scattering the mists asunder like a hurricane that has begun to blow from near at hand. And by this means our track was marked out clearly for us, till at length, when we had been carried up and up a thousand leagues and more, we beheld Christ Himself in His glory, seated upon a throne of stars. And at His right hand was the angel who records the deeds of men upon a register of brass, and at His left hand stood Mary His Mother, she that for ever implores mercy for poor sinners.“Claes and the Emperor knelt down together before the throne. And the angel took off the crown from the head of the Emperor, and cast it away.“‘There is only one Emperor here,’ he said. It is ‘Christ!’“His Sacred Majesty could not conceal his annoyance;yet managed to assume a humble tone of voice as he begged to be allowed to keep his anchovy and his tankard of beer, for that he had come a long way and was very hungry.“‘Hungry you have been all your life,’ said the angel, ‘nevertheless, you may go on with your eating and drinking if you want to.’“The Emperor emptied the tankard of beer and took a nibble at the anchovy. Then Christ addressed him with these words:“‘Do you present yourself to judgment with a clean soul?’“‘I trust so, dear Lord,’ answered Charles the Emperor, ‘for I have confessed my sins and am well shriven.’“‘And you, Claes? You do not seem to be trembling like the Emperor.’“‘My Lord Jesus,’ answered Claes, ‘there is no soul that is clean, and how should I be afraid of you, you that are sovereign good and sovereign justice. Nevertheless, I am afraid of my sins, for they are many.’“‘Speak, carrion!’ said the angel, addressing himself to the Emperor.“‘I, Lord,’ said Charles, in an embarrassed tone of voice, ‘I am he that was anointed with oil by your priests, and crowned King of Castile, Emperor of Germany, and King of the Romans. It has ever been my first care to maintain that power which was given me by you, and to that end I have done my best by hanging and by sword, by burning and by burying alive, by pit and by fire to keep down all Reformers and Protestants.’“But the angel said:“‘O you false and dyspeptic man, you are trying to deceive us. In Germany, forsooth, you were tolerant enough of the Protestants, seeing that there you had good cause to be afraid of them. But in the Netherlands you beheaded, burned, hanged, and buried them alive, for there your only fear was lest you might fail to inherit sufficient of theirproperty—so rich and plenteous, like the honey made by busy bees. And there perished at your hands one hundred thousand souls, not at all because you loved the Lord Christ, but because you were a despot, a tyrant, a waster of your country, and one that loved himself first of all, and after that, nothing but meat, fish, wine, and beer, for you were always as greedy as a dog and as thirsty as a sponge.’“When the angel had made an end, Christ commanded that Claes should speak, but now the angel rose from his place, saying: ‘This man has nothing to answer. He was a good, hard-working man, as are all the poor people of Flanders, willing either for work or play; one that kept faith with his masters and trusted his masters to keep faith with him. But he possessed a certain amount of money, and it was for this reason that an accusation was brought against him, and inasmuch as he had harboured in his house a heretic, he was condemned to be burnt alive.’“‘Alas!’ cried Mary, ‘the poor martyr! But here in heaven there are springs of fresh water, fountains of milk, and exquisite wine which will refresh you, and I myself will lead you there, good charcoal-burner!’“And now the angel’s trumpet sounded yet again, and I saw a man, naked and very beautiful, rising from the abyss. On his head was an iron crown, and on the rim of the crown these words inscribed: ‘Sorrowful till the day of judgment.’“He approached the throne and said to Christ:“‘Thy slave I am until that day when I shall be Thy master!’“‘O Satan,’ said Mary, ‘the day will come when there shall be neither slave nor master any more, and when Christ who is Love, and Satan who is Pride, shall stand forth together as the One Lord both of Power and of Knowledge.’“‘Woman,’ said Satan, ‘thou art all goodness and all beauty.’“Then addressing himself to Christ, and pointing at thesame time towards the Emperor, Satan demanded what was to be done with him. Christ answered:“‘Take this crowned wormling and put him in a room wherein you have collected together all instruments of torture which were in use under his rule. And each time that some innocent wretch is made to suffer the torture of water, whereby the bodies of men swell up like bladders; or the torture of the candles, whereby the soles of their feet or their armpits are burned and scorched; or the torture of thestrappado, whereby their limbs are broken; or the torture of the four wagons that drags them asunder—and every time that a free soul breathes out its last upon the funeral pile let this man also endure in his turn these same deaths and tortures, to the end that he may learn in his own person what evil may be wrought in the world by an unjust man who has power over his fellows. Let him languish in prison, let him meet death upon the scaffold, let him mourn in exile, far from his native land, let him be scorned, abused, and flogged with many whips. Let him know what it is to be rich and see all his property eaten up by the tax-gatherer, let him be accused by informers and ruined by confiscations. Turn him into an ass that he may know what it is to be gentle by nature and at the same time ill-treated and badly fed; let him be a poor man that asks for alms and is answered only with abuse; let him be a workman that labours too long and eats too little; and then, when he has thus well suffered both in his body and his soul, turn him into a dog that he may be beaten, an Indian slave that he may be sold to the highest bidder, a soldier that he may fight for another and be killed without knowing why. And then, at the end of three hundred years, when he has exhausted all sufferings and all miseries, make a free man of him, and if in that state of life he is good like Claes here, you may lay at last his body to rest in some quiet corner of earth that is shady in the noonday heat and open to the morning sun, and there beneath a beautifultree and covered with fresh sward, he shall find eternal repose. And his friends shall come to his grave to moisten it with their tears, and to sow violets there, which are called the flowers of remembrance.’“But Mary said: ‘Have mercy upon him, O my Son; he knew not what he did, and we know how power hardens the heart.’“‘There is no mercy for him,’ said Christ.“‘Alas!’ cried His Sacred Majesty, ‘woe is me! Would that I had but a single glass of Andalusian wine!’“‘Come,’ said Satan, ‘it is past the time for wine or meat or poultry!’“And away he carried off the soul of the poor Emperor, down to the nethermost hell, still nibbling as he went his piece of anchovy. For this Satan suffered him to do out of pity.“Thereafter I saw that Our Lady conducted Claes away and up into the highest heaven, where is nothing but stars hanging from the roof like clusters of grapes. And there the angels washed him clean, and he became all beautiful and young, and they gave himrystpapto drink in silver ladles. And then the heavens closed.”“Claes is in glory,” said the widow.“His ashes beat against my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.XLVDuring all the three and twenty days that followed, Katheline grew paler and paler, and thin and all dried up as though devoured not only by the madness that consumed her but by some interior fire that was even deadlier still. No more did she cry out as of old: “Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!” But she was continually transported into a kind of ecstasy, in which she spake to Nele many strange words.“A wife I am,” she said, “and a wife you also ought to be.My husband is a handsome man. A hairy man is he, hot with love. But his knees and his arms, they are cold!” And Soetkin looked at her sadly, wondering what new kind of madness this might be. But Katheline continued:“Three times three are nine, the sacred number. He whose eyes glitter in the night like the eyes of a cat—he only it is that sees the mystery.”One evening when Katheline was talking in this way, Soetkin made a gesture of misgiving. But Katheline said:“Under Saturn, four and three mean misfortune. But under Venus, it is the marriage number. Cold arms! Cold knees! Heart of fire!”Soetkin answered:“It is wrong to talk in this way of these wicked pagan idols.”But Katheline only crossed herself and said:“Blessed be the grey horseman. Nele must have a husband—a handsome husband that carries a sword, a dusky husband with a shining face!”“Yes,” cried Ulenspiegel, “a very fricassee of a husband, for whom I will make a sauce with my knife!”Nele looked at her lover with eyes that were moist with pleasure to see him so jealous.“None of your husbands for me!” she said.But Katheline made answer:“When cometh he? He that is clad in grey, and booted and spurred?”Soetkin bade them say a prayer to God for the poor afflicted one, whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch four quarts ofdobbel kuytwhat time she made ready someheete-koeken, as pancakes are called in Flanders.Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Saturday like the Jews.“Because the butter is ready,” said Katheline.So Ulenspiegel stood up and took in his hand the big pot of English pewter that held just four quarts.“Mother,” he asked, “what shall I do?”“Go,” said Katheline.Soetkin did not like to say anything more, for she was not mistress of the house. So she told her son to go and do as Katheline had bidden him. Ulenspiegel ran to the tavern and brought back with him the four quarts ofdobbel kuyt. And soon the kitchen reeked with the good smell of pancakes, and every one felt hungry, even the poor afflicted Katheline.Ulenspiegel ate heartily, and drank heartily also, for Katheline had given him a full tankard, saying, with a malicious look, that it behoved him to drink more than the others seeing that he was the only male and the head of the house. Afterwards she asked him to give them a song.But Ulenspiegel did not sing, and Nele was all tearful, seeing Soetkin so pale, and as it were all sunken into herself. Katheline alone of them all appeared to be happy.When the meal was over Soetkin and Ulenspiegel went up into the loft to bed. Katheline and Nele stayed behind, for they slept together in the kitchen.All was quiet until the second hour after midnight. Ulenspiegel had already been asleep for a long time because of all the beer he had been drinking. But Soetkin, as her custom was, lay on with eyes wide open, praying Our Lady to send her sleep, but with no avail.All of a sudden she heard the cry of a sea-eagle, and from the kitchen came a like cry, in answer. Then, from far off in the country somewhere, other cries resounded, always as it seemed in answer to that cry in the kitchen just below.Soetkin tried to think it was only the night-birds calling to one another, and endeavoured to distract her attention from those sounds. But presently she heard a neighing of horses and a noise as of iron sabots beating along the high road. Then it was that she opened the window of the loftand saw that in very fact there were a couple of horses saddled just outside the cottage, pawing the ground and nibbling the grass that grew by the side of the road. Thereafter she heard the voice of a woman crying out in fear, and a man’s voice threatening, followed by the sound of blows, more cries, a door shutting with a bang, and then steps running up the ladder in mortal fear:Allthistime Ulenspiegel was snoring away in his bed, hearing nothing, till the door of the loft opened and Nele came in, out of breath, sobbing, and with scarcely anything on. As hastily as she could the girl dragged against the door a table, some chairs, an old heating stove, any bit of furniture that was to hand. With these she made a rough-and-ready barricade. Meanwhile, outside, the last stars were paling in the heavens and the cocks beginning to crow.Ulenspiegel had turned over in his bed at the noise Nele was making, but now he had gone to sleep again. Nele, meanwhile, had thrown herself on to Soetkin’s neck.“Soetkin,” she said, “I am afraid. Light the candle, do!”Soetkin did so, and all the time Nele never left off moaning. By the light of the candle Soetkin looked the girl up and down. Her shift was torn at the shoulder and in front, and there were traces of blood upon her neck and cheek, such as might be left by the scratch of a finger-nail.“Whence have you come? And what are these wounds?” Soetkin asked her.Trembling and groaning all the time, the girl made answer:“For mercy’s sake, Soetkin, do not bring us to the stake!”Ulenspiegel meanwhile had awakened from his sleep, and was blinking his eyes in the sudden light of the candle. Soetkin said:“Who is it down there?”“Not so loud!” Nele whispered. “It is the husband Katheline desired for me.”All at once Soetkin and Nele heard Katheline cry out in aloud voice, and their legs gave way beneath them in their terror.“He is beating her,” said Nele, “he is beating her because of me!”“Who is it in the house?” cried Ulenspiegel, jumping out of bed. And then, rubbing his eyes, he went stalking up and down the room till at last he found a heavy poker that stood in the corner. He took hold of it, but Nele tried to dissuade him, telling him that there was no one there. But he paid no attention, running to the door and throwing to one side the chairs and tables and the stove that Nele had piled up in front of it. All this time Katheline was crying out from the kitchen, and Nele and Soetkin held Ulenspiegel—the one by the waist, the other by the legs—and tried to prevent him from descending the stairs. “Don’t go down,” they told him. “Don’t go down, Ulenspiegel. There are devils down there.”“Forsooth,” says he, “Nele’s devil-husband! Him verily will I join in marriage to this long poker of mine! A marriage of iron and flesh! Let me go!”But they did not loose their hold, hanging on as they were to the landing rail.And all the time Ulenspiegel was trying to drag them down the staircase, and they the more frightened as they came nearer to the devils below. And they could avail naught against him, so that at last, descending now by leaps and bounds like a snowball that falls from the top of a mountain, he came into the kitchen. And there was Katheline, all exhausted and pale in the light of dawn.“Hanske,” she was saying, “O Hanske, why must you leave me? Is it my fault if Nele is naughty?”Ulenspiegel did not take any notice of her, but straightway opened the door of the shed, and finding no one there, rushed out into the yard, and thence into the high road. Far away he descried two horses galloping off and disappearing in themist. He ran after them hoping to overtake them, but he could not, for they went like a south wind that scours the dry autumn leaves.Ulenspiegel was angry with disappointment, and he came back into the cottage grieving sore in his heart and muttering between his teeth:“They have done their worst on her! They have done their worst!...”And he looked on Nele with eyes that burned with an evil flame. But Nele, all trembling, stood up before Katheline and the widow.“No!” she cried. “No, Tyl, my lover! No!”And as she spoke she looked him straight in the face, so sadly and so frankly that Ulenspiegel saw clearly that what she said was true. Then he spake again, and questioned her:“But whence came those cries, and whither went those men? Why is your shift all torn on the shoulder and the back? And why do you bear on forehead and cheek these marks of a man’s nails?”“I will tell you,” she said, “but be careful that you do not have us burned at the stake for what I shall tell you. You must know that Katheline—whom God save from Hell—hath had these three-and-twenty days a devil for her lover. He is dressed all in black, he is booted and spurred. His face gleams with a flame of fire like what one sees in summer-time when it is hot, on the waves of the sea.”And Katheline whimpered: “Why, oh why, have you left me, Hanske, my pet? Nele is naughty!”But Nele went on with her story:“The devil announces his approach in a voice that is like the crying of a sea-eagle. Every Saturday my mother receives him in the kitchen. And she says that his kisses are cold and that his body is like snow. One time he brought her some florins, but he took from her all the other money that she had.”All this time Soetkin kept on praying for Katheline, with clasped hands. But Katheline spake joyfully:“My body is mine no more. My mind is mine no more. O Hanske, my pet, take me with you yet once again, I beg you, to the Witches’ Sabbath. Only Nele will never come. Nele is naughty, I tell you.”But Nele went on with her story:“At dawn,” she said, “the devil would go away, and the next day my mother would relate to me a hundred strange things. But, Tyl dear, you must not look at me with those cruel eyes.... Yesterday, for instance, she told me that a splendid prince, clad in grey, Hilbert by name, was anxious to take me in marriage, and that he was coming here himself that I might see him. I told her that I wanted no husband, handsome or plain. Nevertheless, by weight of her maternal authority she persuaded me to stay up for him, for she certainly keeps all her wits about her in whatever pertains to her amours. Well, we were half undressed, ready to go to bed; and I had gone off to sleep sitting on that chair. It seems that I did not wake up when they came in, and the first thing I knew was that some one was embracing me and kissing me on the neck. And then, by the bright light of the moon, I beheld a face that shone like the crests of the waves of a July sea when there is thunder in the air, and I heard a low voice speaking to me and saying: ‘I am your husband, Hilbert. Be mine! I will make thee rich.’ And from the face of him that spake these words there came an odour like the odour of fish. Quickly I pushed that face away from me, but the man tried to take me by force, and although I had the strength of ten against him, he managed to tear my shift and scratch my face, crying out the while that if only I would give myself to him he would make me rich. ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘as rich as my mother, whom you have deprived of her lastliard!’ At that he redoubled his violence, but he could not do anything against me. And at last, since he was moredisgusting than a corpse, I scratched him in the eye with my nails so sharply that he cried out with pain, and I was able to make my escape and run up here to Soetkin.”And all this while Katheline kept on with her “Nele is naughty. And why did you go away so soon, O Hanske, my pet?”But Soetkin asked her where she had been while wicked men were attempting the honour of her child.“It is Nele that is naughty,” Katheline replied. “As for me, I was in company of my black master, when the devil in grey comes to us, with his face all bloody. ‘Come away,’ he cries, ‘come away, my boy, this is an evil house; for the men, it seems, are of a mind to fight with one to the death, and the women carry knives at the tips of their fingers.’ And there and then they ran off to their horses, and disappeared in the mist. Ah, Nele, Nele! She is a naughty lass, I tell you!”

XXXIXBorgstorm, the great bell of Damme, had summoned the judges to judgment. It was four o’clock, and now they were collected together at theVierschare, around the Tree of Justice.Claes was brought before them. Seated upon the dais was the high bailiff of Damme, and by his side, opposite Claes, the mayor, the alderman, and the clerk of the court.The populace ran together at the sound of the bell. A great crowd they were, and many of them were saying that the judges were there to do—not justice—but merely the will of His Imperial Majesty....After certain preliminaries, the high bailiff began to make proclamation of the acts and deeds for which Claes had been summoned before that tribunal.“The informer,” he said, “had been staying by chance at Damme, not wishing to spend all his money at Bruges in feasting and festivity as is too often the case during these sacred occasions. On a time, then, when he was taking the air soberly on his own doorstep, he saw a man walking towards him along the rue Héron. This man Claes also saw, and went up to him and greeted him. The stranger, who was dressed all in black, entered the house of Claes, leaving the door into the street half open. Curious to find out who the man was,the informer went into the vestibule, and heard Claes talking to the stranger in the kitchen. The talk was all about a certain Josse, the brother of Claes, who it seems had been made prisoner among the army of the Reformers, and had suffered the punishment of being broken alive on the wheel of torture, not far from Aix. The stranger said that he had brought Claes a sum of money which his brother had desired to leave him, which money having been gained from the ignorant and poverty-stricken, it behoved Claes to spend it in bringing up his own son in the Reformed Faith. He also urged Claes to quit the bosom of our Holy Mother Church, and spake also many other impious words to which the only reply vouchsafed by Claes was this: ‘The cruel brutes! Alas, my poor Josse!’ So did the prisoner blaspheme against our Holy Father the Pope and against His Royal Majesty, accusing them of cruelty in that they rightly had punished heresy as a crime of treason against God and man. When the stranger had finished the meal that Claes put before him, our agent heard Claes cry out again: ‘Alas, poor Josse! May God keep thee in his glory! How cruel they were to thee!’ And thus did he accuse God himself of impiety by this suggestion that He could receive a heretic into His heaven. Nor did Claes ever cease to cry aloud: ‘Alas! Alas! My poor Josse!’ The stranger then, launching out into a frenzy, like a preacher beginning his sermon, fell to revile most shamefully our Holy Mother the Church. ‘She will fall,’ he shouted, ‘she will fall, the mighty Babylon, the whore of Rome, and she will become the abode of demons, and the haunt of every bird accursed.’ And Claes meanwhile continued the same old cry: ‘Cruel brutes! Alas, poor Josse!’ And the stranger went on in the same way as he had begun, saying: ‘Verily an angel shall appear that shall take a stone that is great as a millstone, and shall cast it into the sea, crying: “Thus shall it be done to Babylon the mighty, and she shall be no more seen.”’ Whereupon, ‘Sir,’says Claes, ‘your mouth is full of bitterness; but tell me, when cometh that kingdom in which they that are gentle of heart shall be able to dwell in peace upon the earth?’ ‘Never,’ answered the stranger, ‘while yet my Lord Antichrist rules, that is the Pope, who is to-day the enemy to all truth.’ ‘Ah,’ said Claes, ‘you speak with little respect of the Holy Father. But he, surely, is ignorant of the cruel punishments which are meted out to poor Reformers.’ ‘Not at all,’ answered the stranger, ‘and far from it, for it is he who initiates the decrees and causes them to be put into force by the Emperor, now by the King. The latter enjoys all the benefits of confiscation, inherits the property of the dead, and finds it easy to bring charges of heresy against those who have any wealth.’ Claes said: ‘Indeed I know that such things are freely spoken of in the land of Flanders, and one may well believe them, for the flesh of man is weak, even though the flesh be royal flesh. O my poor Josse!’ And by this did Claes give to understand that heretics are punished because of a vile desire on the part of His Majesty for filthy lucre. The stranger wished to argue the matter further, but Claes said: ‘Please, sir, do not let us continue this conversation, for if it were overheard I might easily find myself involved in some awkward inquiry.’ Then Claes got up to go to the cellar, whence he presently returned with a pot of beer. ‘I am going to shut the door,’ said he, and after that the informer heard nothing more, for he had to make his way out of the house as quickly as he could. Not till it was night was the door again opened, and then the stranger came forth. But he soon returned, knocking at the door and calling to Claes: ‘It is very cold, and I know not where I am to lodge this night. Give me shelter, pray. No one has seen me. The town is deserted.’ Claes welcomed him in, lit a lantern, and last of all he was seen to be leading the heretic up the staircase into a little attic room with a window that looked out on to the country.”At this Claes cried out: “And who could have reported all this but you, you wicked fishmonger! I saw you on Sunday, standing at your door, as straight as a post, gazing up, like the hypocrite you are, at the swallows in their flight!”And as he spoke, he pointed with his finger at Josse Grypstuiver, the Dean of the Fishmongers, who showed his ugly phiz in the crowd of people. And the fishmonger gave an evil smile when he saw Claes betraying himself in this way. And the people in the crowd, men, women, and maids, looked one at the other and said: “Poor good man, his words will be the death of him without a doubt.”But the clerk continued his depositions.“Claes and the heretic stayed talking together for a long time that night, and so for six other nights, during which time the stranger was seen to make many gestures of menace or of benediction, and to lift up his hands to heaven as do his fellow-heretics. And Claes appeared to approve of what he said. And there is no doubt that throughout these days and nights they were speaking together opprobriously of the Mass, of the confessional, of indulgences, and of the Royal Majesty....”“No one heard it,” said Claes, “and I cannot be accused in this way without any evidence.”The clerk answered:“There is something else that was overheard. The evening that the stranger left your roof, seven days after he had first come to you, you went with him as far as the end of Katheline’s field. There he asked you what you had done with the wicked idols”—here the bailiff crossed himself—“of Madame the Virgin, and of St. Nicholas and St. Martin. You replied that you had broken them all up and thrown them into the well. They were, in fact, found in the well last night, and the pieces are now in the torture-chamber.”At these words Claes appeared to be quite overcome.The bailiff asked if he had nothing to answer. Claes made a sign with his head in the negative.The bailiff asked him if he would not recant the accursed thoughts which had led him to break the images, and the impious delusion whereby he had spoken such evil words against Pope and Emperor, who were both divine personages.Claes replied that his body was the Emperor’s, but that his soul was Christ’s, whose law he desired to obey. The bailiff asked him if this law were the same as that of Holy Mother Church. Claes answered:“The law of Christ is written in the Holy Gospel.”When ordered to answer the question as to whether the Pope is the representative of God on earth, he answered, “No.”When asked if he believed that it was forbidden to adore images of Our Lady and of the saints, he replied that such was idolatry. Questioned as to whether the practice of auricular confession was a good and salutary thing, he answered: “Christ said, confess your sins one to another.”He spoke out bravely, though at the same time it was evident that he was ill at ease and in his heart afraid.At length, eight o’clock having sounded and evening coming on, the members of the tribunal retired, deferring their judgment until the morrow.XLThe next day the great bell,Borgstorm, clanged out its summons to the judges of the tribunal. When they were all assembled at theVierschare, seated upon the four benches that were set around the lime-tree, Claes was cross-examined afresh, and asked if he was willing to recant his errors.But Claes lifted his hand towards heaven:“The Lord Christ beholdeth me from on high,” he said, “and when my son Ulenspiegel was born I also gazed uponHis Sun. Where is Ulenspiegel now? Where is he now, the vagabond? O Soetkin, sweet wife, will you be brave in the day of trouble?”Then looking at the lime-tree he cursed it, saying: “South wind and drouth, I adjure you to make the trees of our fathers perish one and all where they stand, rather than that beneath their shade freedom of conscience shall be judged to death! O Ulenspiegel, my son, where are you? Harsh was I unto you in days gone by. But now, good sirs, take pity on me, and be merciful to me in your judgment, even as Our Lord would be merciful.”And all that heard him wept, save only the judges.Then Claes asked them a second time if they would not pardon him, saying:“Truly I was always a hard-working man, and one that gained little for all his toil. I was good to the poor and kind to every one. And if I have left the Roman Church it is only in obedience to the spirit of God that spake to me. I ask for no grace except that the pain of fire may be commuted to a sentence of perpetual banishment from the land of Flanders. Banishment for life! A sufficient punishment that, surely!”And all they that were present cried aloud:“Have pity upon him! Have mercy!”But Josse Grypstuiver held his peace.Now the bailiff made a sign to the company that they should keep silence, adding that the placards contained a clause which expressly forbade the petitioning of mercy for heretics. But he said that if Claes would abjure his heresy he should be executed by hanging instead of by burning. And the people murmured:“What matters burning or hanging, they both mean death!”And the women wept and the men murmured under their breath.Claes said:“I will abjure nothing. Do to my body whatsoever is pleasing to your mercy.”Then spoke the Dean of Renaix, Titelman by name:“It is intolerable that these vermin of heretics should raise up their heads in this way before their judges. After all, the burning of the body is but a passing pain, and torture is necessary for the saving of souls, and for the recantation of error, lest the people be given the dangerous spectacle of heretics dying in a state of final impenitence.”At these words the women wept still more, and the men said: “In those cases where the crime is confessed punishment may be rightly inflicted, but torture is illegal!”The tribunal decided that since indeed it was a fact that the ordinances did not order torture to be applied in such cases, there was no occasion to insist that Claes should suffer it. He was asked once more if he would not recant.“I cannot,” he answered.Then, in accordance with the ordinances, sentence was passed upon him. He was declared guilty of simony in that he had taken part in the sale of indulgences, and he was also declared to be a heretic and a harbourer of heretics, and as such he was condemned to be burned alive before the hoardings of the Town Hall. His body was to be left hanging on the stake for the space of two days as a warning to others, and afterwards it was to be interred in the place set apart for the bodies of executed criminals. To the informer, Josse Grypstuiver (whose name had never been mentioned throughout the whole trial), the tribunal ordered to be paid the sum of fifty florins calculated on the first hundred florins of the inheritance of the deceased, and a tenth part of the remainder.When he heard the sentence that had been passed upon him, Claes turned to the Dean of the Fishmongers.“You will come to a bad end,” he said, “you wicked manthat for a paltry sum of money have turned a happy wife into a widow, and a joyous son into a grieving orphan.”The judges suffered Claes to speak in this way for they also, all except Titelman, could not help despising from the bottom of their hearts the Dean of the Fishmongers for the information he had given. Grypstuiver himself went pale with shame and anger.And Claes was led back to his prison.XLIOn the morrow (which was the day before the execution of Claes) the decision of the court was made known to Nele, to Ulenspiegel, and Soetkin. They asked the judges for leave to visit Claes in prison, which permission was granted in the case of the wife and the son only.On entering the prison cell they found Claes tied to the wall by a long chain. A small fire was burning in the grate because of the damp. For it is custom and law in Flanders that they who are condemned to death shall be gently treated and be given bread and meat to eat, or cheese and wine. Still gaolers are a greedy race, and oftentimes the law is broken, there being many prison guards who themselves eat up the greater part of the nourishment provided for the poor prisoners, or keep the best morsels for themselves.Claes embraced Ulenspiegel and Soetkin, crying the while. But he was the first to dry his eyes, for he put control upon himself, being a man and the head of the family. Soetkin, however, went on crying, and Ulenspiegel kept muttering under his breath:“I must break these wicked chains!”And Soetkin said through her tears:“I shall go to King Philip. He surely will have mercy!”But Claes answered that this would be no use since the King was wont to possess himself of the property of those who died as martyrs.... He said also:“My wife and child, my best beloved, it is with sadness and sorrow that I am about to leave this world. If I have some natural apprehension for my own bodily sufferings, I am no less concerned when I think of you and of how poor and wretched you will be when I am gone, for the King will certainly seize for himself all your goods.”Ulenspiegel made answer, speaking in a low voice for fear of being overheard:“Yesterday Nele and I hid all the money.”“I am glad,” Claes answered; “the informer will not laugh when he comes to count his plunder.”“I had rather he died than had a penny of it,” said Soetkin with a look of hate in her eyes now dry of tears. But Claes, who was still thinking about the caroluses, said to Ulenspiegel:“That was clever of you, Tyl, my lad; now Soetkin need not be afraid of going hungry in the old age of her widowhood.”And Claes embraced her, pressing her close to his breast, and she wept all the more bitterly as she thought how soon she was to lose his tender protection.Claes looked at Ulenspiegel and said:“My son, it was wrong of you to go running off along the high roads of the world like any ruffian. You must not do that any more, my boy. You must not leave her alone at home, my widow in her sorrow. For now it is your duty to protect her and take care of her—you, a man.”“I will, father,” said Ulenspiegel.“O my poor husband!” cried Soetkin embracing him again. “What crime can we have committed? Nay, we lived our life peaceably together, lowly and humbly, loving each other well—how well Thou, Lord, knowest! Early in the morning we rose for work, and at eventide, rendering our thanks to Thee, we ate our daily bread. Oh, would that I could come at this King, and tear him with my nails! For in nothing, O Lord God, have we offended!”But here the gaoler entered and said that it was time for them to depart.Soetkin begged to be allowed to stay, and Claes felt her poor face burning hot as it touched his, and her tears falling in floods and wetting all his cheek, and her poor body shaking and trembling in his arms. He, too, entreated the gaoler that she might be suffered to remain with him. But the gaoler was obdurate, and removed Soetkin by force from the arms of Claes.“Take care of her,” Claes said to Ulenspiegel.He promised, and son and mother left the room together, she supported in his arms.XLIIThe next day, which was the day of the execution, the neighbours, out of pity for their suffering, came and shut up Soetkin and Nele and Ulenspiegel in Katheline’s cottage. For they could not bear that they should see the terrible sight of the burning. Yet it had been forgotten that the far-off cries of the tormented one would reach the cottage, and that those within would be able to see through the windows the flames of the fire.Katheline, meanwhile, went wandering through the town, wagging her head and crying out continually:“Make a hole! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!”At nine of the clock Claes was led out of his prison. He was dressed in a shirt only, and his hands were tied behind his back. In accordance with the sentence that had been passed upon him, the pile was set up in the rue Notre Dame, with a stake in the midst, just in front of the hoarding of the Town Hall. When they arrived there the executioner and his assistants had not yet completed the work of stacking the wood. Claes stood patiently in the midst of his tormentors watching while the work was finished, and all the time the provost on his horse, with the officers of the tribunal and thenine foot-soldiers that had been summoned from Bruges, had the greatest difficulty in keeping order among the people. For they murmured one to another, saying that it was cruelty thus to do to death unjustly a man like Claes, a poor man and already old in years, and one that was so gentle, so forgiving, and such a good and steady workman.Suddenly they all fell upon their knees and began to pray, for the bells of Notre Dame were heard tolling for the dead.Katheline also was among the crowd, right in the front, mad as she was. Fixing her eye on Claes and the pile of wood, she wagged her head and cried continually:“Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!”When Nele and Soetkin heard the sound of the tolling they crossed themselves. But Ulenspiegel did not cross himself, saying that he would never pray to God after the same fashion as those hangmen. But he ran about the cottage, trying to force open the doors or jump from the windows. But they were shut and fastened well.Suddenly Soetkin hid her face in her apron.“The smoke!” she cried.And in very fact, the three mourners could see, mounting high to heaven, a great eddy of smoke; all black it was, the smoke of the funeral pile whereon was Claes, tied to a stake, the smoke of that fire which the executioner had just set burning in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.Claes looked around for Soetkin or Ulenspiegel. But not seeing them anywhere in the crowd he felt happier and more at ease, thinking that they would not know how he suffered. And all the time there was a silence like death, except for the sound of Claes’ voice praying, and the crackling of the wood, the murmuring of men, the weeping of the women, the voice of Katheline as she cried: “Put out the fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!” and over all, the bells of Notre Dame tolling for the dead.Suddenly Soetkin’s face went as white as snow, and her body trembled all over. She did not utter a sound, but pointed to the sky with her finger. For there a long, straight flame of fire had risen above the pyre, and now was leaping high above the roofs of the lower houses. It was a flame of pain and cruelty to Claes, for following the caprice of the breeze, it preyed upon his legs, or touched his head so that it smoked, licking and singeing his hair.Ulenspiegel took Soetkin in his arms and tried to tear her away from the window. Then they heard a sharp cry, the cry which came from Claes when one side of his body was burnt by the dancing flames. But then he was silent again, weeping to himself. And his breast was all wet with his tears.Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together:“He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!”The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob.“Kill him!” they shouted. “Put him out of his misery!” And they began to throw missiles at the provost.Soetkin cried aloud: “The flame! The great flame!”And in very truth they saw now a great red flame, mounting heavenwards, in the midst of the smoke.“He is about to die,” said the widow. “O Lord, of your mercy receive the soul of this innocent. Where is the King, that I may go and tear out his heart with my nails?”And all the while the bells of Notre Dame kept tolling for the dead. Yet again did Soetkin hear a great cry from her husband; but mercifully she was spared the sight of his body writhing in the agony of the fire, and his twisted face, and his head that he turned from side to side and beat upon the wood of the stake. Meanwhile the crowd continued toshout and to hiss, and the boys threw stones, until all of a sudden the whole pile of wood caught alight, and the voice of Claes was heard crying out from the midst of the flame and smoke:“Soetkin! Tyl!”And then his head fell down upon his breast as though it were made of lead.And there came a cry, most piteous and piercing, from the cottage of Katheline; and after that there was silence, except for the poor mad woman wagging her head and saying:“My soul wants to get out!”Claes was dead. The fire burned itself away, smouldering at the foot of the stake whereon the poor body still hung by its neck.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.XLIIIIn Katheline’s cottage Soetkin stood leaning against the wall, with her head hanging down and her hands clasped together. She held Ulenspiegel in her arms, speechless and without a tear. Neither did Ulenspiegel say anything. It made him afraid to feel the burning fever that raged in the body of his mother.The neighbours, returning from the place of execution, came to the cottage and told how Claes had made an end of his sufferings.“He is in glory,” said the widow.“Pray for him,” said Nele, putting her rosary into the hands of Ulenspiegel. But he would make no use of it, giving as his reason that the beads had been blessed by the Pope.At last night came, and Ulenspiegel urged his mother to go to bed, telling her that he himself would sit up and keep watch in the room. But Soetkin said that there was no need for him to do that. Let him sleep also, for the young haveneed of a good night’s rest. So Nele prepared two beds for them in the kitchen, and after that she left them.Mother and son stayed up together while what remained of the wood fire burned itself out in the grate. Then Soetkin retired to her bed, and Ulenspiegel did likewise, listening to his mother sobbing to herself under the bedclothes.Outside in the silence of the night the wind made a murmuring sound in the trees by the canal. It was like the far-off sound of waves, and it meant that autumn was coming soon. Also, there were great eddies of dust that beat against the cottage windows.Now it seemed to Ulenspiegel that he saw the figure of a man going to and fro in the room, and he thought he heard the sound of footsteps coming and going in the kitchen. But when he looked he no longer saw the man, and listening he no longer heard those footsteps, but only the sound of the wind as it whistled in the chimney and Soetkin crying under the bedclothes.Then once again he heard those footsteps, and just behind him, near his head, a soft sigh.“Who is it?” he said.No one answered, but quite distinctly came the sound of three taps on the table. Ulenspiegel was afraid, and began to tremble. “Who is it?” he said again. No one answered, but once more there came the three taps upon the table, and after that he felt two arms hugging him round, and over him there leant a man’s body with skin all wrinkled and a great hole in its breast that gave forth a smell of burning.“Father,” said Ulenspiegel, “is it you, and is this your poor body that weighs thus upon me?”He received no answer to his question, and although the shadow seemed still quite close, it was from outside the cottage that he heard a voice crying out to him by name, “Tyl! Tyl!”Suddenly Soetkin got out of bed and came over to where Ulenspiegel was lying.“Do you hear something?” she said.“Yes,” he answered, “it is father calling to me.”“I too,” said Soetkin, “I have felt a cold body beside me in my bed, and the mattress has moved, and the curtains. And I heard a voice that spoke my name: ‘Soetkin!’ it said, a voice soft as a whisper. And I heard a step near by, light as the sound of a gnat’s wings.” Then she addressed herself to the spirit of Claes: “If there is aught that you desire in that heaven where God guards you in his glory, you must tell me, my man, that we may know what you would have us do.”All of a sudden a mighty gust of wind came blowing upon the door, and it burst wide open and straightway the room was filled with dust; and from afar, Soetkin and Ulenspiegel could hear the sound of the cawing of many ravens.They went out of the cottage, and came together to the place of torture....It was a black night, save where the clouds—coursing in the sky like stags before the keen north wind—were parted here and there so as to disclose the glittering face of some star.By the remnants of the pile strode a sergeant of the commune, up and down, keeping guard. Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard his steps as they resounded on the hardened ground, and together with that sound there came the cry of a raven, calling his fellows, doubtless; for from far away there came the sound of other caws in answer.Ulenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesUlenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesAs Soetkin and Ulenspiegel approached the pile the raven swooped down upon the shoulder of Claes, and they could hear its beak pecking upon the body. And soon the other ravens followed. Ulenspiegel would have thrown himself upon the pile and beaten them off had not the sergeant come up and prevented him.“Are you a sorcerer,” cried the man, “that comes hither for the hands of the dead as a talisman, and yet do you not know that the hands of a man that has been burnt to deathpossess no power of invisibility, but only hands of one who has been hanged—such as you yourself will be one of these days?”“Sir,” Ulenspiegel replied, “I am no sorcerer, but the orphaned son of the man tied to this stake here. And this woman is the dead man’s widow. We only wish to kiss him once again, and to take away a few of his ashes in his memory. Give us leave, sir, pray, for you are certainly no foreign soldier, but a son of this land.”“Very well,” said the sergeant.So the orphan and the widow made their way over the charred wood and approached the body. Weeping, they both kissed the face of Claes.Then Ulenspiegel found the place where the heart had been, a great hole hollowed out by the flames, and therefrom he took a few ashes. Then Soetkin and he knelt down and said a prayer, and when the sky began to turn pale in the dawn they were still kneeling there together. But the sergeant drove them off, for he was afraid that he would be punished for his kindness.When they were home again Soetkin took a piece of red silk, and a piece of black silk, and she made a little bag to contain the ashes. And on the little bag she sewed two ribbons so that Ulenspiegel could always carry it suspended round his neck. And she gave it to him with these words:“These ashes are the heart of my husband. This red ribbon is his blood. This black one is our sorrow. Always upon your breast let them lie, and call down thereby the fire of vengeance upon his torturers.”“Amen,” said Ulenspiegel.And the widow embraced her orphan, and the sun rose.XLIVIn that year, being the fifty-eighth year of the century, Katheline came into Soetkin’s house and spake as follows:“Last night, being anointed with balm, I was transported to the tower of Notre Dame, and I beheld the elemental spirits that carry the prayers of men to the angels, and they in their turn, flying up towards the highest heaven, bring them to the Throne of God. And everywhere the sky was strewn with glittering stars. Suddenly I saw the figure of a man that seemed all blackened and charred, rising from a funeral pile. Mounting up towards me, this figure took its place beside me on the tower. I saw that it was Claes, just as he was in life, dressed in his charcoal-burner’s clothes. He asked me what I was doing there on the tower of Notre Dame. ‘And you,’ I asked in my turn, ‘whither are you off to, flying in the air like a bird?’ ‘I am going,’ he answered, ‘to judgment. Hear you not the angel’s trump that summons me?’ I was quite close to him, and could feel the very substance of his spiritual body—not hard and resisting to the touch like the bodies of those that are alive, but so rarefied that to come up against it was like advancing into a kind of warm mist. And at my feet stretched out on every side the land of Flanders, with a few lights shining here and there, and I said to myself: ‘They that rise early and work late, surely they are the blessed of God!’ And all the time I could hear the angel’s trumpet calling through the night. And presently I saw another shade mounting up towards me from the land of Spain. This was an old man and decrepit, with a protruding chin, and quince jam all oozing from the corners of his lips.“On its back it wore a cloak of crimson velvet lined with ermine, and on its head an imperial crown, and it kept nibbling a piece of anchovy which it carried in one hand, while in the other hand it clutched a tankard of beer. I could see that this spirit was tired out and had come to the tower of Notre Dame to rest itself. Kneeling down, I addressed it in these words: ‘Most Imperial Majesty, of a truth I revere you, yet I know not who you are. Whencecome you? And what was your position in the world?’ ‘I come,’ answered the shade, ‘from Saint Juste in the country of Estramadoure. I was the Emperor Charles the Fifth.’ ‘But,’ said I, ‘whither, pray, are you going on such a cold night as this, and over these clouds that are all heavy and charged with hail?’ ‘I go,’ answered the shade, ‘to judgment.’“Just as the Emperor was about to finish his anchovy and drink up his tankard of beer, the angel’s trumpet sounded, and straightway he had to betake himself to the air again, grumbling at this sudden interruption of his repast. High aloft he mounted through space, I following close behind; and as he went he hiccuped with fatigue, and coughed asthmatically, even vomited now and again; for death had come upon him at a time when he was suffering from a fit of indigestion. Thus ceaselessly we soared aloft like arrows shot from a bow of cornel-wood. The stars glimmered all around us, and time and again we saw them detach themselves and fall headlong, tracing long strokes of fire upon the sky. Once more the angel’s trump resounded, very shrill and powerful. Each fanfare seemed to cleave for itself a pathway through the cloudy air, scattering the mists asunder like a hurricane that has begun to blow from near at hand. And by this means our track was marked out clearly for us, till at length, when we had been carried up and up a thousand leagues and more, we beheld Christ Himself in His glory, seated upon a throne of stars. And at His right hand was the angel who records the deeds of men upon a register of brass, and at His left hand stood Mary His Mother, she that for ever implores mercy for poor sinners.“Claes and the Emperor knelt down together before the throne. And the angel took off the crown from the head of the Emperor, and cast it away.“‘There is only one Emperor here,’ he said. It is ‘Christ!’“His Sacred Majesty could not conceal his annoyance;yet managed to assume a humble tone of voice as he begged to be allowed to keep his anchovy and his tankard of beer, for that he had come a long way and was very hungry.“‘Hungry you have been all your life,’ said the angel, ‘nevertheless, you may go on with your eating and drinking if you want to.’“The Emperor emptied the tankard of beer and took a nibble at the anchovy. Then Christ addressed him with these words:“‘Do you present yourself to judgment with a clean soul?’“‘I trust so, dear Lord,’ answered Charles the Emperor, ‘for I have confessed my sins and am well shriven.’“‘And you, Claes? You do not seem to be trembling like the Emperor.’“‘My Lord Jesus,’ answered Claes, ‘there is no soul that is clean, and how should I be afraid of you, you that are sovereign good and sovereign justice. Nevertheless, I am afraid of my sins, for they are many.’“‘Speak, carrion!’ said the angel, addressing himself to the Emperor.“‘I, Lord,’ said Charles, in an embarrassed tone of voice, ‘I am he that was anointed with oil by your priests, and crowned King of Castile, Emperor of Germany, and King of the Romans. It has ever been my first care to maintain that power which was given me by you, and to that end I have done my best by hanging and by sword, by burning and by burying alive, by pit and by fire to keep down all Reformers and Protestants.’“But the angel said:“‘O you false and dyspeptic man, you are trying to deceive us. In Germany, forsooth, you were tolerant enough of the Protestants, seeing that there you had good cause to be afraid of them. But in the Netherlands you beheaded, burned, hanged, and buried them alive, for there your only fear was lest you might fail to inherit sufficient of theirproperty—so rich and plenteous, like the honey made by busy bees. And there perished at your hands one hundred thousand souls, not at all because you loved the Lord Christ, but because you were a despot, a tyrant, a waster of your country, and one that loved himself first of all, and after that, nothing but meat, fish, wine, and beer, for you were always as greedy as a dog and as thirsty as a sponge.’“When the angel had made an end, Christ commanded that Claes should speak, but now the angel rose from his place, saying: ‘This man has nothing to answer. He was a good, hard-working man, as are all the poor people of Flanders, willing either for work or play; one that kept faith with his masters and trusted his masters to keep faith with him. But he possessed a certain amount of money, and it was for this reason that an accusation was brought against him, and inasmuch as he had harboured in his house a heretic, he was condemned to be burnt alive.’“‘Alas!’ cried Mary, ‘the poor martyr! But here in heaven there are springs of fresh water, fountains of milk, and exquisite wine which will refresh you, and I myself will lead you there, good charcoal-burner!’“And now the angel’s trumpet sounded yet again, and I saw a man, naked and very beautiful, rising from the abyss. On his head was an iron crown, and on the rim of the crown these words inscribed: ‘Sorrowful till the day of judgment.’“He approached the throne and said to Christ:“‘Thy slave I am until that day when I shall be Thy master!’“‘O Satan,’ said Mary, ‘the day will come when there shall be neither slave nor master any more, and when Christ who is Love, and Satan who is Pride, shall stand forth together as the One Lord both of Power and of Knowledge.’“‘Woman,’ said Satan, ‘thou art all goodness and all beauty.’“Then addressing himself to Christ, and pointing at thesame time towards the Emperor, Satan demanded what was to be done with him. Christ answered:“‘Take this crowned wormling and put him in a room wherein you have collected together all instruments of torture which were in use under his rule. And each time that some innocent wretch is made to suffer the torture of water, whereby the bodies of men swell up like bladders; or the torture of the candles, whereby the soles of their feet or their armpits are burned and scorched; or the torture of thestrappado, whereby their limbs are broken; or the torture of the four wagons that drags them asunder—and every time that a free soul breathes out its last upon the funeral pile let this man also endure in his turn these same deaths and tortures, to the end that he may learn in his own person what evil may be wrought in the world by an unjust man who has power over his fellows. Let him languish in prison, let him meet death upon the scaffold, let him mourn in exile, far from his native land, let him be scorned, abused, and flogged with many whips. Let him know what it is to be rich and see all his property eaten up by the tax-gatherer, let him be accused by informers and ruined by confiscations. Turn him into an ass that he may know what it is to be gentle by nature and at the same time ill-treated and badly fed; let him be a poor man that asks for alms and is answered only with abuse; let him be a workman that labours too long and eats too little; and then, when he has thus well suffered both in his body and his soul, turn him into a dog that he may be beaten, an Indian slave that he may be sold to the highest bidder, a soldier that he may fight for another and be killed without knowing why. And then, at the end of three hundred years, when he has exhausted all sufferings and all miseries, make a free man of him, and if in that state of life he is good like Claes here, you may lay at last his body to rest in some quiet corner of earth that is shady in the noonday heat and open to the morning sun, and there beneath a beautifultree and covered with fresh sward, he shall find eternal repose. And his friends shall come to his grave to moisten it with their tears, and to sow violets there, which are called the flowers of remembrance.’“But Mary said: ‘Have mercy upon him, O my Son; he knew not what he did, and we know how power hardens the heart.’“‘There is no mercy for him,’ said Christ.“‘Alas!’ cried His Sacred Majesty, ‘woe is me! Would that I had but a single glass of Andalusian wine!’“‘Come,’ said Satan, ‘it is past the time for wine or meat or poultry!’“And away he carried off the soul of the poor Emperor, down to the nethermost hell, still nibbling as he went his piece of anchovy. For this Satan suffered him to do out of pity.“Thereafter I saw that Our Lady conducted Claes away and up into the highest heaven, where is nothing but stars hanging from the roof like clusters of grapes. And there the angels washed him clean, and he became all beautiful and young, and they gave himrystpapto drink in silver ladles. And then the heavens closed.”“Claes is in glory,” said the widow.“His ashes beat against my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.XLVDuring all the three and twenty days that followed, Katheline grew paler and paler, and thin and all dried up as though devoured not only by the madness that consumed her but by some interior fire that was even deadlier still. No more did she cry out as of old: “Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!” But she was continually transported into a kind of ecstasy, in which she spake to Nele many strange words.“A wife I am,” she said, “and a wife you also ought to be.My husband is a handsome man. A hairy man is he, hot with love. But his knees and his arms, they are cold!” And Soetkin looked at her sadly, wondering what new kind of madness this might be. But Katheline continued:“Three times three are nine, the sacred number. He whose eyes glitter in the night like the eyes of a cat—he only it is that sees the mystery.”One evening when Katheline was talking in this way, Soetkin made a gesture of misgiving. But Katheline said:“Under Saturn, four and three mean misfortune. But under Venus, it is the marriage number. Cold arms! Cold knees! Heart of fire!”Soetkin answered:“It is wrong to talk in this way of these wicked pagan idols.”But Katheline only crossed herself and said:“Blessed be the grey horseman. Nele must have a husband—a handsome husband that carries a sword, a dusky husband with a shining face!”“Yes,” cried Ulenspiegel, “a very fricassee of a husband, for whom I will make a sauce with my knife!”Nele looked at her lover with eyes that were moist with pleasure to see him so jealous.“None of your husbands for me!” she said.But Katheline made answer:“When cometh he? He that is clad in grey, and booted and spurred?”Soetkin bade them say a prayer to God for the poor afflicted one, whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch four quarts ofdobbel kuytwhat time she made ready someheete-koeken, as pancakes are called in Flanders.Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Saturday like the Jews.“Because the butter is ready,” said Katheline.So Ulenspiegel stood up and took in his hand the big pot of English pewter that held just four quarts.“Mother,” he asked, “what shall I do?”“Go,” said Katheline.Soetkin did not like to say anything more, for she was not mistress of the house. So she told her son to go and do as Katheline had bidden him. Ulenspiegel ran to the tavern and brought back with him the four quarts ofdobbel kuyt. And soon the kitchen reeked with the good smell of pancakes, and every one felt hungry, even the poor afflicted Katheline.Ulenspiegel ate heartily, and drank heartily also, for Katheline had given him a full tankard, saying, with a malicious look, that it behoved him to drink more than the others seeing that he was the only male and the head of the house. Afterwards she asked him to give them a song.But Ulenspiegel did not sing, and Nele was all tearful, seeing Soetkin so pale, and as it were all sunken into herself. Katheline alone of them all appeared to be happy.When the meal was over Soetkin and Ulenspiegel went up into the loft to bed. Katheline and Nele stayed behind, for they slept together in the kitchen.All was quiet until the second hour after midnight. Ulenspiegel had already been asleep for a long time because of all the beer he had been drinking. But Soetkin, as her custom was, lay on with eyes wide open, praying Our Lady to send her sleep, but with no avail.All of a sudden she heard the cry of a sea-eagle, and from the kitchen came a like cry, in answer. Then, from far off in the country somewhere, other cries resounded, always as it seemed in answer to that cry in the kitchen just below.Soetkin tried to think it was only the night-birds calling to one another, and endeavoured to distract her attention from those sounds. But presently she heard a neighing of horses and a noise as of iron sabots beating along the high road. Then it was that she opened the window of the loftand saw that in very fact there were a couple of horses saddled just outside the cottage, pawing the ground and nibbling the grass that grew by the side of the road. Thereafter she heard the voice of a woman crying out in fear, and a man’s voice threatening, followed by the sound of blows, more cries, a door shutting with a bang, and then steps running up the ladder in mortal fear:Allthistime Ulenspiegel was snoring away in his bed, hearing nothing, till the door of the loft opened and Nele came in, out of breath, sobbing, and with scarcely anything on. As hastily as she could the girl dragged against the door a table, some chairs, an old heating stove, any bit of furniture that was to hand. With these she made a rough-and-ready barricade. Meanwhile, outside, the last stars were paling in the heavens and the cocks beginning to crow.Ulenspiegel had turned over in his bed at the noise Nele was making, but now he had gone to sleep again. Nele, meanwhile, had thrown herself on to Soetkin’s neck.“Soetkin,” she said, “I am afraid. Light the candle, do!”Soetkin did so, and all the time Nele never left off moaning. By the light of the candle Soetkin looked the girl up and down. Her shift was torn at the shoulder and in front, and there were traces of blood upon her neck and cheek, such as might be left by the scratch of a finger-nail.“Whence have you come? And what are these wounds?” Soetkin asked her.Trembling and groaning all the time, the girl made answer:“For mercy’s sake, Soetkin, do not bring us to the stake!”Ulenspiegel meanwhile had awakened from his sleep, and was blinking his eyes in the sudden light of the candle. Soetkin said:“Who is it down there?”“Not so loud!” Nele whispered. “It is the husband Katheline desired for me.”All at once Soetkin and Nele heard Katheline cry out in aloud voice, and their legs gave way beneath them in their terror.“He is beating her,” said Nele, “he is beating her because of me!”“Who is it in the house?” cried Ulenspiegel, jumping out of bed. And then, rubbing his eyes, he went stalking up and down the room till at last he found a heavy poker that stood in the corner. He took hold of it, but Nele tried to dissuade him, telling him that there was no one there. But he paid no attention, running to the door and throwing to one side the chairs and tables and the stove that Nele had piled up in front of it. All this time Katheline was crying out from the kitchen, and Nele and Soetkin held Ulenspiegel—the one by the waist, the other by the legs—and tried to prevent him from descending the stairs. “Don’t go down,” they told him. “Don’t go down, Ulenspiegel. There are devils down there.”“Forsooth,” says he, “Nele’s devil-husband! Him verily will I join in marriage to this long poker of mine! A marriage of iron and flesh! Let me go!”But they did not loose their hold, hanging on as they were to the landing rail.And all the time Ulenspiegel was trying to drag them down the staircase, and they the more frightened as they came nearer to the devils below. And they could avail naught against him, so that at last, descending now by leaps and bounds like a snowball that falls from the top of a mountain, he came into the kitchen. And there was Katheline, all exhausted and pale in the light of dawn.“Hanske,” she was saying, “O Hanske, why must you leave me? Is it my fault if Nele is naughty?”Ulenspiegel did not take any notice of her, but straightway opened the door of the shed, and finding no one there, rushed out into the yard, and thence into the high road. Far away he descried two horses galloping off and disappearing in themist. He ran after them hoping to overtake them, but he could not, for they went like a south wind that scours the dry autumn leaves.Ulenspiegel was angry with disappointment, and he came back into the cottage grieving sore in his heart and muttering between his teeth:“They have done their worst on her! They have done their worst!...”And he looked on Nele with eyes that burned with an evil flame. But Nele, all trembling, stood up before Katheline and the widow.“No!” she cried. “No, Tyl, my lover! No!”And as she spoke she looked him straight in the face, so sadly and so frankly that Ulenspiegel saw clearly that what she said was true. Then he spake again, and questioned her:“But whence came those cries, and whither went those men? Why is your shift all torn on the shoulder and the back? And why do you bear on forehead and cheek these marks of a man’s nails?”“I will tell you,” she said, “but be careful that you do not have us burned at the stake for what I shall tell you. You must know that Katheline—whom God save from Hell—hath had these three-and-twenty days a devil for her lover. He is dressed all in black, he is booted and spurred. His face gleams with a flame of fire like what one sees in summer-time when it is hot, on the waves of the sea.”And Katheline whimpered: “Why, oh why, have you left me, Hanske, my pet? Nele is naughty!”But Nele went on with her story:“The devil announces his approach in a voice that is like the crying of a sea-eagle. Every Saturday my mother receives him in the kitchen. And she says that his kisses are cold and that his body is like snow. One time he brought her some florins, but he took from her all the other money that she had.”All this time Soetkin kept on praying for Katheline, with clasped hands. But Katheline spake joyfully:“My body is mine no more. My mind is mine no more. O Hanske, my pet, take me with you yet once again, I beg you, to the Witches’ Sabbath. Only Nele will never come. Nele is naughty, I tell you.”But Nele went on with her story:“At dawn,” she said, “the devil would go away, and the next day my mother would relate to me a hundred strange things. But, Tyl dear, you must not look at me with those cruel eyes.... Yesterday, for instance, she told me that a splendid prince, clad in grey, Hilbert by name, was anxious to take me in marriage, and that he was coming here himself that I might see him. I told her that I wanted no husband, handsome or plain. Nevertheless, by weight of her maternal authority she persuaded me to stay up for him, for she certainly keeps all her wits about her in whatever pertains to her amours. Well, we were half undressed, ready to go to bed; and I had gone off to sleep sitting on that chair. It seems that I did not wake up when they came in, and the first thing I knew was that some one was embracing me and kissing me on the neck. And then, by the bright light of the moon, I beheld a face that shone like the crests of the waves of a July sea when there is thunder in the air, and I heard a low voice speaking to me and saying: ‘I am your husband, Hilbert. Be mine! I will make thee rich.’ And from the face of him that spake these words there came an odour like the odour of fish. Quickly I pushed that face away from me, but the man tried to take me by force, and although I had the strength of ten against him, he managed to tear my shift and scratch my face, crying out the while that if only I would give myself to him he would make me rich. ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘as rich as my mother, whom you have deprived of her lastliard!’ At that he redoubled his violence, but he could not do anything against me. And at last, since he was moredisgusting than a corpse, I scratched him in the eye with my nails so sharply that he cried out with pain, and I was able to make my escape and run up here to Soetkin.”And all this while Katheline kept on with her “Nele is naughty. And why did you go away so soon, O Hanske, my pet?”But Soetkin asked her where she had been while wicked men were attempting the honour of her child.“It is Nele that is naughty,” Katheline replied. “As for me, I was in company of my black master, when the devil in grey comes to us, with his face all bloody. ‘Come away,’ he cries, ‘come away, my boy, this is an evil house; for the men, it seems, are of a mind to fight with one to the death, and the women carry knives at the tips of their fingers.’ And there and then they ran off to their horses, and disappeared in the mist. Ah, Nele, Nele! She is a naughty lass, I tell you!”

XXXIXBorgstorm, the great bell of Damme, had summoned the judges to judgment. It was four o’clock, and now they were collected together at theVierschare, around the Tree of Justice.Claes was brought before them. Seated upon the dais was the high bailiff of Damme, and by his side, opposite Claes, the mayor, the alderman, and the clerk of the court.The populace ran together at the sound of the bell. A great crowd they were, and many of them were saying that the judges were there to do—not justice—but merely the will of His Imperial Majesty....After certain preliminaries, the high bailiff began to make proclamation of the acts and deeds for which Claes had been summoned before that tribunal.“The informer,” he said, “had been staying by chance at Damme, not wishing to spend all his money at Bruges in feasting and festivity as is too often the case during these sacred occasions. On a time, then, when he was taking the air soberly on his own doorstep, he saw a man walking towards him along the rue Héron. This man Claes also saw, and went up to him and greeted him. The stranger, who was dressed all in black, entered the house of Claes, leaving the door into the street half open. Curious to find out who the man was,the informer went into the vestibule, and heard Claes talking to the stranger in the kitchen. The talk was all about a certain Josse, the brother of Claes, who it seems had been made prisoner among the army of the Reformers, and had suffered the punishment of being broken alive on the wheel of torture, not far from Aix. The stranger said that he had brought Claes a sum of money which his brother had desired to leave him, which money having been gained from the ignorant and poverty-stricken, it behoved Claes to spend it in bringing up his own son in the Reformed Faith. He also urged Claes to quit the bosom of our Holy Mother Church, and spake also many other impious words to which the only reply vouchsafed by Claes was this: ‘The cruel brutes! Alas, my poor Josse!’ So did the prisoner blaspheme against our Holy Father the Pope and against His Royal Majesty, accusing them of cruelty in that they rightly had punished heresy as a crime of treason against God and man. When the stranger had finished the meal that Claes put before him, our agent heard Claes cry out again: ‘Alas, poor Josse! May God keep thee in his glory! How cruel they were to thee!’ And thus did he accuse God himself of impiety by this suggestion that He could receive a heretic into His heaven. Nor did Claes ever cease to cry aloud: ‘Alas! Alas! My poor Josse!’ The stranger then, launching out into a frenzy, like a preacher beginning his sermon, fell to revile most shamefully our Holy Mother the Church. ‘She will fall,’ he shouted, ‘she will fall, the mighty Babylon, the whore of Rome, and she will become the abode of demons, and the haunt of every bird accursed.’ And Claes meanwhile continued the same old cry: ‘Cruel brutes! Alas, poor Josse!’ And the stranger went on in the same way as he had begun, saying: ‘Verily an angel shall appear that shall take a stone that is great as a millstone, and shall cast it into the sea, crying: “Thus shall it be done to Babylon the mighty, and she shall be no more seen.”’ Whereupon, ‘Sir,’says Claes, ‘your mouth is full of bitterness; but tell me, when cometh that kingdom in which they that are gentle of heart shall be able to dwell in peace upon the earth?’ ‘Never,’ answered the stranger, ‘while yet my Lord Antichrist rules, that is the Pope, who is to-day the enemy to all truth.’ ‘Ah,’ said Claes, ‘you speak with little respect of the Holy Father. But he, surely, is ignorant of the cruel punishments which are meted out to poor Reformers.’ ‘Not at all,’ answered the stranger, ‘and far from it, for it is he who initiates the decrees and causes them to be put into force by the Emperor, now by the King. The latter enjoys all the benefits of confiscation, inherits the property of the dead, and finds it easy to bring charges of heresy against those who have any wealth.’ Claes said: ‘Indeed I know that such things are freely spoken of in the land of Flanders, and one may well believe them, for the flesh of man is weak, even though the flesh be royal flesh. O my poor Josse!’ And by this did Claes give to understand that heretics are punished because of a vile desire on the part of His Majesty for filthy lucre. The stranger wished to argue the matter further, but Claes said: ‘Please, sir, do not let us continue this conversation, for if it were overheard I might easily find myself involved in some awkward inquiry.’ Then Claes got up to go to the cellar, whence he presently returned with a pot of beer. ‘I am going to shut the door,’ said he, and after that the informer heard nothing more, for he had to make his way out of the house as quickly as he could. Not till it was night was the door again opened, and then the stranger came forth. But he soon returned, knocking at the door and calling to Claes: ‘It is very cold, and I know not where I am to lodge this night. Give me shelter, pray. No one has seen me. The town is deserted.’ Claes welcomed him in, lit a lantern, and last of all he was seen to be leading the heretic up the staircase into a little attic room with a window that looked out on to the country.”At this Claes cried out: “And who could have reported all this but you, you wicked fishmonger! I saw you on Sunday, standing at your door, as straight as a post, gazing up, like the hypocrite you are, at the swallows in their flight!”And as he spoke, he pointed with his finger at Josse Grypstuiver, the Dean of the Fishmongers, who showed his ugly phiz in the crowd of people. And the fishmonger gave an evil smile when he saw Claes betraying himself in this way. And the people in the crowd, men, women, and maids, looked one at the other and said: “Poor good man, his words will be the death of him without a doubt.”But the clerk continued his depositions.“Claes and the heretic stayed talking together for a long time that night, and so for six other nights, during which time the stranger was seen to make many gestures of menace or of benediction, and to lift up his hands to heaven as do his fellow-heretics. And Claes appeared to approve of what he said. And there is no doubt that throughout these days and nights they were speaking together opprobriously of the Mass, of the confessional, of indulgences, and of the Royal Majesty....”“No one heard it,” said Claes, “and I cannot be accused in this way without any evidence.”The clerk answered:“There is something else that was overheard. The evening that the stranger left your roof, seven days after he had first come to you, you went with him as far as the end of Katheline’s field. There he asked you what you had done with the wicked idols”—here the bailiff crossed himself—“of Madame the Virgin, and of St. Nicholas and St. Martin. You replied that you had broken them all up and thrown them into the well. They were, in fact, found in the well last night, and the pieces are now in the torture-chamber.”At these words Claes appeared to be quite overcome.The bailiff asked if he had nothing to answer. Claes made a sign with his head in the negative.The bailiff asked him if he would not recant the accursed thoughts which had led him to break the images, and the impious delusion whereby he had spoken such evil words against Pope and Emperor, who were both divine personages.Claes replied that his body was the Emperor’s, but that his soul was Christ’s, whose law he desired to obey. The bailiff asked him if this law were the same as that of Holy Mother Church. Claes answered:“The law of Christ is written in the Holy Gospel.”When ordered to answer the question as to whether the Pope is the representative of God on earth, he answered, “No.”When asked if he believed that it was forbidden to adore images of Our Lady and of the saints, he replied that such was idolatry. Questioned as to whether the practice of auricular confession was a good and salutary thing, he answered: “Christ said, confess your sins one to another.”He spoke out bravely, though at the same time it was evident that he was ill at ease and in his heart afraid.At length, eight o’clock having sounded and evening coming on, the members of the tribunal retired, deferring their judgment until the morrow.

XXXIX

Borgstorm, the great bell of Damme, had summoned the judges to judgment. It was four o’clock, and now they were collected together at theVierschare, around the Tree of Justice.Claes was brought before them. Seated upon the dais was the high bailiff of Damme, and by his side, opposite Claes, the mayor, the alderman, and the clerk of the court.The populace ran together at the sound of the bell. A great crowd they were, and many of them were saying that the judges were there to do—not justice—but merely the will of His Imperial Majesty....After certain preliminaries, the high bailiff began to make proclamation of the acts and deeds for which Claes had been summoned before that tribunal.“The informer,” he said, “had been staying by chance at Damme, not wishing to spend all his money at Bruges in feasting and festivity as is too often the case during these sacred occasions. On a time, then, when he was taking the air soberly on his own doorstep, he saw a man walking towards him along the rue Héron. This man Claes also saw, and went up to him and greeted him. The stranger, who was dressed all in black, entered the house of Claes, leaving the door into the street half open. Curious to find out who the man was,the informer went into the vestibule, and heard Claes talking to the stranger in the kitchen. The talk was all about a certain Josse, the brother of Claes, who it seems had been made prisoner among the army of the Reformers, and had suffered the punishment of being broken alive on the wheel of torture, not far from Aix. The stranger said that he had brought Claes a sum of money which his brother had desired to leave him, which money having been gained from the ignorant and poverty-stricken, it behoved Claes to spend it in bringing up his own son in the Reformed Faith. He also urged Claes to quit the bosom of our Holy Mother Church, and spake also many other impious words to which the only reply vouchsafed by Claes was this: ‘The cruel brutes! Alas, my poor Josse!’ So did the prisoner blaspheme against our Holy Father the Pope and against His Royal Majesty, accusing them of cruelty in that they rightly had punished heresy as a crime of treason against God and man. When the stranger had finished the meal that Claes put before him, our agent heard Claes cry out again: ‘Alas, poor Josse! May God keep thee in his glory! How cruel they were to thee!’ And thus did he accuse God himself of impiety by this suggestion that He could receive a heretic into His heaven. Nor did Claes ever cease to cry aloud: ‘Alas! Alas! My poor Josse!’ The stranger then, launching out into a frenzy, like a preacher beginning his sermon, fell to revile most shamefully our Holy Mother the Church. ‘She will fall,’ he shouted, ‘she will fall, the mighty Babylon, the whore of Rome, and she will become the abode of demons, and the haunt of every bird accursed.’ And Claes meanwhile continued the same old cry: ‘Cruel brutes! Alas, poor Josse!’ And the stranger went on in the same way as he had begun, saying: ‘Verily an angel shall appear that shall take a stone that is great as a millstone, and shall cast it into the sea, crying: “Thus shall it be done to Babylon the mighty, and she shall be no more seen.”’ Whereupon, ‘Sir,’says Claes, ‘your mouth is full of bitterness; but tell me, when cometh that kingdom in which they that are gentle of heart shall be able to dwell in peace upon the earth?’ ‘Never,’ answered the stranger, ‘while yet my Lord Antichrist rules, that is the Pope, who is to-day the enemy to all truth.’ ‘Ah,’ said Claes, ‘you speak with little respect of the Holy Father. But he, surely, is ignorant of the cruel punishments which are meted out to poor Reformers.’ ‘Not at all,’ answered the stranger, ‘and far from it, for it is he who initiates the decrees and causes them to be put into force by the Emperor, now by the King. The latter enjoys all the benefits of confiscation, inherits the property of the dead, and finds it easy to bring charges of heresy against those who have any wealth.’ Claes said: ‘Indeed I know that such things are freely spoken of in the land of Flanders, and one may well believe them, for the flesh of man is weak, even though the flesh be royal flesh. O my poor Josse!’ And by this did Claes give to understand that heretics are punished because of a vile desire on the part of His Majesty for filthy lucre. The stranger wished to argue the matter further, but Claes said: ‘Please, sir, do not let us continue this conversation, for if it were overheard I might easily find myself involved in some awkward inquiry.’ Then Claes got up to go to the cellar, whence he presently returned with a pot of beer. ‘I am going to shut the door,’ said he, and after that the informer heard nothing more, for he had to make his way out of the house as quickly as he could. Not till it was night was the door again opened, and then the stranger came forth. But he soon returned, knocking at the door and calling to Claes: ‘It is very cold, and I know not where I am to lodge this night. Give me shelter, pray. No one has seen me. The town is deserted.’ Claes welcomed him in, lit a lantern, and last of all he was seen to be leading the heretic up the staircase into a little attic room with a window that looked out on to the country.”At this Claes cried out: “And who could have reported all this but you, you wicked fishmonger! I saw you on Sunday, standing at your door, as straight as a post, gazing up, like the hypocrite you are, at the swallows in their flight!”And as he spoke, he pointed with his finger at Josse Grypstuiver, the Dean of the Fishmongers, who showed his ugly phiz in the crowd of people. And the fishmonger gave an evil smile when he saw Claes betraying himself in this way. And the people in the crowd, men, women, and maids, looked one at the other and said: “Poor good man, his words will be the death of him without a doubt.”But the clerk continued his depositions.“Claes and the heretic stayed talking together for a long time that night, and so for six other nights, during which time the stranger was seen to make many gestures of menace or of benediction, and to lift up his hands to heaven as do his fellow-heretics. And Claes appeared to approve of what he said. And there is no doubt that throughout these days and nights they were speaking together opprobriously of the Mass, of the confessional, of indulgences, and of the Royal Majesty....”“No one heard it,” said Claes, “and I cannot be accused in this way without any evidence.”The clerk answered:“There is something else that was overheard. The evening that the stranger left your roof, seven days after he had first come to you, you went with him as far as the end of Katheline’s field. There he asked you what you had done with the wicked idols”—here the bailiff crossed himself—“of Madame the Virgin, and of St. Nicholas and St. Martin. You replied that you had broken them all up and thrown them into the well. They were, in fact, found in the well last night, and the pieces are now in the torture-chamber.”At these words Claes appeared to be quite overcome.The bailiff asked if he had nothing to answer. Claes made a sign with his head in the negative.The bailiff asked him if he would not recant the accursed thoughts which had led him to break the images, and the impious delusion whereby he had spoken such evil words against Pope and Emperor, who were both divine personages.Claes replied that his body was the Emperor’s, but that his soul was Christ’s, whose law he desired to obey. The bailiff asked him if this law were the same as that of Holy Mother Church. Claes answered:“The law of Christ is written in the Holy Gospel.”When ordered to answer the question as to whether the Pope is the representative of God on earth, he answered, “No.”When asked if he believed that it was forbidden to adore images of Our Lady and of the saints, he replied that such was idolatry. Questioned as to whether the practice of auricular confession was a good and salutary thing, he answered: “Christ said, confess your sins one to another.”He spoke out bravely, though at the same time it was evident that he was ill at ease and in his heart afraid.At length, eight o’clock having sounded and evening coming on, the members of the tribunal retired, deferring their judgment until the morrow.

Borgstorm, the great bell of Damme, had summoned the judges to judgment. It was four o’clock, and now they were collected together at theVierschare, around the Tree of Justice.

Claes was brought before them. Seated upon the dais was the high bailiff of Damme, and by his side, opposite Claes, the mayor, the alderman, and the clerk of the court.

The populace ran together at the sound of the bell. A great crowd they were, and many of them were saying that the judges were there to do—not justice—but merely the will of His Imperial Majesty....

After certain preliminaries, the high bailiff began to make proclamation of the acts and deeds for which Claes had been summoned before that tribunal.

“The informer,” he said, “had been staying by chance at Damme, not wishing to spend all his money at Bruges in feasting and festivity as is too often the case during these sacred occasions. On a time, then, when he was taking the air soberly on his own doorstep, he saw a man walking towards him along the rue Héron. This man Claes also saw, and went up to him and greeted him. The stranger, who was dressed all in black, entered the house of Claes, leaving the door into the street half open. Curious to find out who the man was,the informer went into the vestibule, and heard Claes talking to the stranger in the kitchen. The talk was all about a certain Josse, the brother of Claes, who it seems had been made prisoner among the army of the Reformers, and had suffered the punishment of being broken alive on the wheel of torture, not far from Aix. The stranger said that he had brought Claes a sum of money which his brother had desired to leave him, which money having been gained from the ignorant and poverty-stricken, it behoved Claes to spend it in bringing up his own son in the Reformed Faith. He also urged Claes to quit the bosom of our Holy Mother Church, and spake also many other impious words to which the only reply vouchsafed by Claes was this: ‘The cruel brutes! Alas, my poor Josse!’ So did the prisoner blaspheme against our Holy Father the Pope and against His Royal Majesty, accusing them of cruelty in that they rightly had punished heresy as a crime of treason against God and man. When the stranger had finished the meal that Claes put before him, our agent heard Claes cry out again: ‘Alas, poor Josse! May God keep thee in his glory! How cruel they were to thee!’ And thus did he accuse God himself of impiety by this suggestion that He could receive a heretic into His heaven. Nor did Claes ever cease to cry aloud: ‘Alas! Alas! My poor Josse!’ The stranger then, launching out into a frenzy, like a preacher beginning his sermon, fell to revile most shamefully our Holy Mother the Church. ‘She will fall,’ he shouted, ‘she will fall, the mighty Babylon, the whore of Rome, and she will become the abode of demons, and the haunt of every bird accursed.’ And Claes meanwhile continued the same old cry: ‘Cruel brutes! Alas, poor Josse!’ And the stranger went on in the same way as he had begun, saying: ‘Verily an angel shall appear that shall take a stone that is great as a millstone, and shall cast it into the sea, crying: “Thus shall it be done to Babylon the mighty, and she shall be no more seen.”’ Whereupon, ‘Sir,’says Claes, ‘your mouth is full of bitterness; but tell me, when cometh that kingdom in which they that are gentle of heart shall be able to dwell in peace upon the earth?’ ‘Never,’ answered the stranger, ‘while yet my Lord Antichrist rules, that is the Pope, who is to-day the enemy to all truth.’ ‘Ah,’ said Claes, ‘you speak with little respect of the Holy Father. But he, surely, is ignorant of the cruel punishments which are meted out to poor Reformers.’ ‘Not at all,’ answered the stranger, ‘and far from it, for it is he who initiates the decrees and causes them to be put into force by the Emperor, now by the King. The latter enjoys all the benefits of confiscation, inherits the property of the dead, and finds it easy to bring charges of heresy against those who have any wealth.’ Claes said: ‘Indeed I know that such things are freely spoken of in the land of Flanders, and one may well believe them, for the flesh of man is weak, even though the flesh be royal flesh. O my poor Josse!’ And by this did Claes give to understand that heretics are punished because of a vile desire on the part of His Majesty for filthy lucre. The stranger wished to argue the matter further, but Claes said: ‘Please, sir, do not let us continue this conversation, for if it were overheard I might easily find myself involved in some awkward inquiry.’ Then Claes got up to go to the cellar, whence he presently returned with a pot of beer. ‘I am going to shut the door,’ said he, and after that the informer heard nothing more, for he had to make his way out of the house as quickly as he could. Not till it was night was the door again opened, and then the stranger came forth. But he soon returned, knocking at the door and calling to Claes: ‘It is very cold, and I know not where I am to lodge this night. Give me shelter, pray. No one has seen me. The town is deserted.’ Claes welcomed him in, lit a lantern, and last of all he was seen to be leading the heretic up the staircase into a little attic room with a window that looked out on to the country.”

At this Claes cried out: “And who could have reported all this but you, you wicked fishmonger! I saw you on Sunday, standing at your door, as straight as a post, gazing up, like the hypocrite you are, at the swallows in their flight!”

And as he spoke, he pointed with his finger at Josse Grypstuiver, the Dean of the Fishmongers, who showed his ugly phiz in the crowd of people. And the fishmonger gave an evil smile when he saw Claes betraying himself in this way. And the people in the crowd, men, women, and maids, looked one at the other and said: “Poor good man, his words will be the death of him without a doubt.”

But the clerk continued his depositions.

“Claes and the heretic stayed talking together for a long time that night, and so for six other nights, during which time the stranger was seen to make many gestures of menace or of benediction, and to lift up his hands to heaven as do his fellow-heretics. And Claes appeared to approve of what he said. And there is no doubt that throughout these days and nights they were speaking together opprobriously of the Mass, of the confessional, of indulgences, and of the Royal Majesty....”

“No one heard it,” said Claes, “and I cannot be accused in this way without any evidence.”

The clerk answered:

“There is something else that was overheard. The evening that the stranger left your roof, seven days after he had first come to you, you went with him as far as the end of Katheline’s field. There he asked you what you had done with the wicked idols”—here the bailiff crossed himself—“of Madame the Virgin, and of St. Nicholas and St. Martin. You replied that you had broken them all up and thrown them into the well. They were, in fact, found in the well last night, and the pieces are now in the torture-chamber.”

At these words Claes appeared to be quite overcome.The bailiff asked if he had nothing to answer. Claes made a sign with his head in the negative.

The bailiff asked him if he would not recant the accursed thoughts which had led him to break the images, and the impious delusion whereby he had spoken such evil words against Pope and Emperor, who were both divine personages.

Claes replied that his body was the Emperor’s, but that his soul was Christ’s, whose law he desired to obey. The bailiff asked him if this law were the same as that of Holy Mother Church. Claes answered:

“The law of Christ is written in the Holy Gospel.”

When ordered to answer the question as to whether the Pope is the representative of God on earth, he answered, “No.”

When asked if he believed that it was forbidden to adore images of Our Lady and of the saints, he replied that such was idolatry. Questioned as to whether the practice of auricular confession was a good and salutary thing, he answered: “Christ said, confess your sins one to another.”

He spoke out bravely, though at the same time it was evident that he was ill at ease and in his heart afraid.

At length, eight o’clock having sounded and evening coming on, the members of the tribunal retired, deferring their judgment until the morrow.

XLThe next day the great bell,Borgstorm, clanged out its summons to the judges of the tribunal. When they were all assembled at theVierschare, seated upon the four benches that were set around the lime-tree, Claes was cross-examined afresh, and asked if he was willing to recant his errors.But Claes lifted his hand towards heaven:“The Lord Christ beholdeth me from on high,” he said, “and when my son Ulenspiegel was born I also gazed uponHis Sun. Where is Ulenspiegel now? Where is he now, the vagabond? O Soetkin, sweet wife, will you be brave in the day of trouble?”Then looking at the lime-tree he cursed it, saying: “South wind and drouth, I adjure you to make the trees of our fathers perish one and all where they stand, rather than that beneath their shade freedom of conscience shall be judged to death! O Ulenspiegel, my son, where are you? Harsh was I unto you in days gone by. But now, good sirs, take pity on me, and be merciful to me in your judgment, even as Our Lord would be merciful.”And all that heard him wept, save only the judges.Then Claes asked them a second time if they would not pardon him, saying:“Truly I was always a hard-working man, and one that gained little for all his toil. I was good to the poor and kind to every one. And if I have left the Roman Church it is only in obedience to the spirit of God that spake to me. I ask for no grace except that the pain of fire may be commuted to a sentence of perpetual banishment from the land of Flanders. Banishment for life! A sufficient punishment that, surely!”And all they that were present cried aloud:“Have pity upon him! Have mercy!”But Josse Grypstuiver held his peace.Now the bailiff made a sign to the company that they should keep silence, adding that the placards contained a clause which expressly forbade the petitioning of mercy for heretics. But he said that if Claes would abjure his heresy he should be executed by hanging instead of by burning. And the people murmured:“What matters burning or hanging, they both mean death!”And the women wept and the men murmured under their breath.Claes said:“I will abjure nothing. Do to my body whatsoever is pleasing to your mercy.”Then spoke the Dean of Renaix, Titelman by name:“It is intolerable that these vermin of heretics should raise up their heads in this way before their judges. After all, the burning of the body is but a passing pain, and torture is necessary for the saving of souls, and for the recantation of error, lest the people be given the dangerous spectacle of heretics dying in a state of final impenitence.”At these words the women wept still more, and the men said: “In those cases where the crime is confessed punishment may be rightly inflicted, but torture is illegal!”The tribunal decided that since indeed it was a fact that the ordinances did not order torture to be applied in such cases, there was no occasion to insist that Claes should suffer it. He was asked once more if he would not recant.“I cannot,” he answered.Then, in accordance with the ordinances, sentence was passed upon him. He was declared guilty of simony in that he had taken part in the sale of indulgences, and he was also declared to be a heretic and a harbourer of heretics, and as such he was condemned to be burned alive before the hoardings of the Town Hall. His body was to be left hanging on the stake for the space of two days as a warning to others, and afterwards it was to be interred in the place set apart for the bodies of executed criminals. To the informer, Josse Grypstuiver (whose name had never been mentioned throughout the whole trial), the tribunal ordered to be paid the sum of fifty florins calculated on the first hundred florins of the inheritance of the deceased, and a tenth part of the remainder.When he heard the sentence that had been passed upon him, Claes turned to the Dean of the Fishmongers.“You will come to a bad end,” he said, “you wicked manthat for a paltry sum of money have turned a happy wife into a widow, and a joyous son into a grieving orphan.”The judges suffered Claes to speak in this way for they also, all except Titelman, could not help despising from the bottom of their hearts the Dean of the Fishmongers for the information he had given. Grypstuiver himself went pale with shame and anger.And Claes was led back to his prison.

XL

The next day the great bell,Borgstorm, clanged out its summons to the judges of the tribunal. When they were all assembled at theVierschare, seated upon the four benches that were set around the lime-tree, Claes was cross-examined afresh, and asked if he was willing to recant his errors.But Claes lifted his hand towards heaven:“The Lord Christ beholdeth me from on high,” he said, “and when my son Ulenspiegel was born I also gazed uponHis Sun. Where is Ulenspiegel now? Where is he now, the vagabond? O Soetkin, sweet wife, will you be brave in the day of trouble?”Then looking at the lime-tree he cursed it, saying: “South wind and drouth, I adjure you to make the trees of our fathers perish one and all where they stand, rather than that beneath their shade freedom of conscience shall be judged to death! O Ulenspiegel, my son, where are you? Harsh was I unto you in days gone by. But now, good sirs, take pity on me, and be merciful to me in your judgment, even as Our Lord would be merciful.”And all that heard him wept, save only the judges.Then Claes asked them a second time if they would not pardon him, saying:“Truly I was always a hard-working man, and one that gained little for all his toil. I was good to the poor and kind to every one. And if I have left the Roman Church it is only in obedience to the spirit of God that spake to me. I ask for no grace except that the pain of fire may be commuted to a sentence of perpetual banishment from the land of Flanders. Banishment for life! A sufficient punishment that, surely!”And all they that were present cried aloud:“Have pity upon him! Have mercy!”But Josse Grypstuiver held his peace.Now the bailiff made a sign to the company that they should keep silence, adding that the placards contained a clause which expressly forbade the petitioning of mercy for heretics. But he said that if Claes would abjure his heresy he should be executed by hanging instead of by burning. And the people murmured:“What matters burning or hanging, they both mean death!”And the women wept and the men murmured under their breath.Claes said:“I will abjure nothing. Do to my body whatsoever is pleasing to your mercy.”Then spoke the Dean of Renaix, Titelman by name:“It is intolerable that these vermin of heretics should raise up their heads in this way before their judges. After all, the burning of the body is but a passing pain, and torture is necessary for the saving of souls, and for the recantation of error, lest the people be given the dangerous spectacle of heretics dying in a state of final impenitence.”At these words the women wept still more, and the men said: “In those cases where the crime is confessed punishment may be rightly inflicted, but torture is illegal!”The tribunal decided that since indeed it was a fact that the ordinances did not order torture to be applied in such cases, there was no occasion to insist that Claes should suffer it. He was asked once more if he would not recant.“I cannot,” he answered.Then, in accordance with the ordinances, sentence was passed upon him. He was declared guilty of simony in that he had taken part in the sale of indulgences, and he was also declared to be a heretic and a harbourer of heretics, and as such he was condemned to be burned alive before the hoardings of the Town Hall. His body was to be left hanging on the stake for the space of two days as a warning to others, and afterwards it was to be interred in the place set apart for the bodies of executed criminals. To the informer, Josse Grypstuiver (whose name had never been mentioned throughout the whole trial), the tribunal ordered to be paid the sum of fifty florins calculated on the first hundred florins of the inheritance of the deceased, and a tenth part of the remainder.When he heard the sentence that had been passed upon him, Claes turned to the Dean of the Fishmongers.“You will come to a bad end,” he said, “you wicked manthat for a paltry sum of money have turned a happy wife into a widow, and a joyous son into a grieving orphan.”The judges suffered Claes to speak in this way for they also, all except Titelman, could not help despising from the bottom of their hearts the Dean of the Fishmongers for the information he had given. Grypstuiver himself went pale with shame and anger.And Claes was led back to his prison.

The next day the great bell,Borgstorm, clanged out its summons to the judges of the tribunal. When they were all assembled at theVierschare, seated upon the four benches that were set around the lime-tree, Claes was cross-examined afresh, and asked if he was willing to recant his errors.

But Claes lifted his hand towards heaven:

“The Lord Christ beholdeth me from on high,” he said, “and when my son Ulenspiegel was born I also gazed uponHis Sun. Where is Ulenspiegel now? Where is he now, the vagabond? O Soetkin, sweet wife, will you be brave in the day of trouble?”

Then looking at the lime-tree he cursed it, saying: “South wind and drouth, I adjure you to make the trees of our fathers perish one and all where they stand, rather than that beneath their shade freedom of conscience shall be judged to death! O Ulenspiegel, my son, where are you? Harsh was I unto you in days gone by. But now, good sirs, take pity on me, and be merciful to me in your judgment, even as Our Lord would be merciful.”

And all that heard him wept, save only the judges.

Then Claes asked them a second time if they would not pardon him, saying:

“Truly I was always a hard-working man, and one that gained little for all his toil. I was good to the poor and kind to every one. And if I have left the Roman Church it is only in obedience to the spirit of God that spake to me. I ask for no grace except that the pain of fire may be commuted to a sentence of perpetual banishment from the land of Flanders. Banishment for life! A sufficient punishment that, surely!”

And all they that were present cried aloud:

“Have pity upon him! Have mercy!”

But Josse Grypstuiver held his peace.

Now the bailiff made a sign to the company that they should keep silence, adding that the placards contained a clause which expressly forbade the petitioning of mercy for heretics. But he said that if Claes would abjure his heresy he should be executed by hanging instead of by burning. And the people murmured:

“What matters burning or hanging, they both mean death!”

And the women wept and the men murmured under their breath.

Claes said:

“I will abjure nothing. Do to my body whatsoever is pleasing to your mercy.”

Then spoke the Dean of Renaix, Titelman by name:

“It is intolerable that these vermin of heretics should raise up their heads in this way before their judges. After all, the burning of the body is but a passing pain, and torture is necessary for the saving of souls, and for the recantation of error, lest the people be given the dangerous spectacle of heretics dying in a state of final impenitence.”

At these words the women wept still more, and the men said: “In those cases where the crime is confessed punishment may be rightly inflicted, but torture is illegal!”

The tribunal decided that since indeed it was a fact that the ordinances did not order torture to be applied in such cases, there was no occasion to insist that Claes should suffer it. He was asked once more if he would not recant.

“I cannot,” he answered.

Then, in accordance with the ordinances, sentence was passed upon him. He was declared guilty of simony in that he had taken part in the sale of indulgences, and he was also declared to be a heretic and a harbourer of heretics, and as such he was condemned to be burned alive before the hoardings of the Town Hall. His body was to be left hanging on the stake for the space of two days as a warning to others, and afterwards it was to be interred in the place set apart for the bodies of executed criminals. To the informer, Josse Grypstuiver (whose name had never been mentioned throughout the whole trial), the tribunal ordered to be paid the sum of fifty florins calculated on the first hundred florins of the inheritance of the deceased, and a tenth part of the remainder.

When he heard the sentence that had been passed upon him, Claes turned to the Dean of the Fishmongers.

“You will come to a bad end,” he said, “you wicked manthat for a paltry sum of money have turned a happy wife into a widow, and a joyous son into a grieving orphan.”

The judges suffered Claes to speak in this way for they also, all except Titelman, could not help despising from the bottom of their hearts the Dean of the Fishmongers for the information he had given. Grypstuiver himself went pale with shame and anger.

And Claes was led back to his prison.

XLIOn the morrow (which was the day before the execution of Claes) the decision of the court was made known to Nele, to Ulenspiegel, and Soetkin. They asked the judges for leave to visit Claes in prison, which permission was granted in the case of the wife and the son only.On entering the prison cell they found Claes tied to the wall by a long chain. A small fire was burning in the grate because of the damp. For it is custom and law in Flanders that they who are condemned to death shall be gently treated and be given bread and meat to eat, or cheese and wine. Still gaolers are a greedy race, and oftentimes the law is broken, there being many prison guards who themselves eat up the greater part of the nourishment provided for the poor prisoners, or keep the best morsels for themselves.Claes embraced Ulenspiegel and Soetkin, crying the while. But he was the first to dry his eyes, for he put control upon himself, being a man and the head of the family. Soetkin, however, went on crying, and Ulenspiegel kept muttering under his breath:“I must break these wicked chains!”And Soetkin said through her tears:“I shall go to King Philip. He surely will have mercy!”But Claes answered that this would be no use since the King was wont to possess himself of the property of those who died as martyrs.... He said also:“My wife and child, my best beloved, it is with sadness and sorrow that I am about to leave this world. If I have some natural apprehension for my own bodily sufferings, I am no less concerned when I think of you and of how poor and wretched you will be when I am gone, for the King will certainly seize for himself all your goods.”Ulenspiegel made answer, speaking in a low voice for fear of being overheard:“Yesterday Nele and I hid all the money.”“I am glad,” Claes answered; “the informer will not laugh when he comes to count his plunder.”“I had rather he died than had a penny of it,” said Soetkin with a look of hate in her eyes now dry of tears. But Claes, who was still thinking about the caroluses, said to Ulenspiegel:“That was clever of you, Tyl, my lad; now Soetkin need not be afraid of going hungry in the old age of her widowhood.”And Claes embraced her, pressing her close to his breast, and she wept all the more bitterly as she thought how soon she was to lose his tender protection.Claes looked at Ulenspiegel and said:“My son, it was wrong of you to go running off along the high roads of the world like any ruffian. You must not do that any more, my boy. You must not leave her alone at home, my widow in her sorrow. For now it is your duty to protect her and take care of her—you, a man.”“I will, father,” said Ulenspiegel.“O my poor husband!” cried Soetkin embracing him again. “What crime can we have committed? Nay, we lived our life peaceably together, lowly and humbly, loving each other well—how well Thou, Lord, knowest! Early in the morning we rose for work, and at eventide, rendering our thanks to Thee, we ate our daily bread. Oh, would that I could come at this King, and tear him with my nails! For in nothing, O Lord God, have we offended!”But here the gaoler entered and said that it was time for them to depart.Soetkin begged to be allowed to stay, and Claes felt her poor face burning hot as it touched his, and her tears falling in floods and wetting all his cheek, and her poor body shaking and trembling in his arms. He, too, entreated the gaoler that she might be suffered to remain with him. But the gaoler was obdurate, and removed Soetkin by force from the arms of Claes.“Take care of her,” Claes said to Ulenspiegel.He promised, and son and mother left the room together, she supported in his arms.

XLI

On the morrow (which was the day before the execution of Claes) the decision of the court was made known to Nele, to Ulenspiegel, and Soetkin. They asked the judges for leave to visit Claes in prison, which permission was granted in the case of the wife and the son only.On entering the prison cell they found Claes tied to the wall by a long chain. A small fire was burning in the grate because of the damp. For it is custom and law in Flanders that they who are condemned to death shall be gently treated and be given bread and meat to eat, or cheese and wine. Still gaolers are a greedy race, and oftentimes the law is broken, there being many prison guards who themselves eat up the greater part of the nourishment provided for the poor prisoners, or keep the best morsels for themselves.Claes embraced Ulenspiegel and Soetkin, crying the while. But he was the first to dry his eyes, for he put control upon himself, being a man and the head of the family. Soetkin, however, went on crying, and Ulenspiegel kept muttering under his breath:“I must break these wicked chains!”And Soetkin said through her tears:“I shall go to King Philip. He surely will have mercy!”But Claes answered that this would be no use since the King was wont to possess himself of the property of those who died as martyrs.... He said also:“My wife and child, my best beloved, it is with sadness and sorrow that I am about to leave this world. If I have some natural apprehension for my own bodily sufferings, I am no less concerned when I think of you and of how poor and wretched you will be when I am gone, for the King will certainly seize for himself all your goods.”Ulenspiegel made answer, speaking in a low voice for fear of being overheard:“Yesterday Nele and I hid all the money.”“I am glad,” Claes answered; “the informer will not laugh when he comes to count his plunder.”“I had rather he died than had a penny of it,” said Soetkin with a look of hate in her eyes now dry of tears. But Claes, who was still thinking about the caroluses, said to Ulenspiegel:“That was clever of you, Tyl, my lad; now Soetkin need not be afraid of going hungry in the old age of her widowhood.”And Claes embraced her, pressing her close to his breast, and she wept all the more bitterly as she thought how soon she was to lose his tender protection.Claes looked at Ulenspiegel and said:“My son, it was wrong of you to go running off along the high roads of the world like any ruffian. You must not do that any more, my boy. You must not leave her alone at home, my widow in her sorrow. For now it is your duty to protect her and take care of her—you, a man.”“I will, father,” said Ulenspiegel.“O my poor husband!” cried Soetkin embracing him again. “What crime can we have committed? Nay, we lived our life peaceably together, lowly and humbly, loving each other well—how well Thou, Lord, knowest! Early in the morning we rose for work, and at eventide, rendering our thanks to Thee, we ate our daily bread. Oh, would that I could come at this King, and tear him with my nails! For in nothing, O Lord God, have we offended!”But here the gaoler entered and said that it was time for them to depart.Soetkin begged to be allowed to stay, and Claes felt her poor face burning hot as it touched his, and her tears falling in floods and wetting all his cheek, and her poor body shaking and trembling in his arms. He, too, entreated the gaoler that she might be suffered to remain with him. But the gaoler was obdurate, and removed Soetkin by force from the arms of Claes.“Take care of her,” Claes said to Ulenspiegel.He promised, and son and mother left the room together, she supported in his arms.

On the morrow (which was the day before the execution of Claes) the decision of the court was made known to Nele, to Ulenspiegel, and Soetkin. They asked the judges for leave to visit Claes in prison, which permission was granted in the case of the wife and the son only.

On entering the prison cell they found Claes tied to the wall by a long chain. A small fire was burning in the grate because of the damp. For it is custom and law in Flanders that they who are condemned to death shall be gently treated and be given bread and meat to eat, or cheese and wine. Still gaolers are a greedy race, and oftentimes the law is broken, there being many prison guards who themselves eat up the greater part of the nourishment provided for the poor prisoners, or keep the best morsels for themselves.

Claes embraced Ulenspiegel and Soetkin, crying the while. But he was the first to dry his eyes, for he put control upon himself, being a man and the head of the family. Soetkin, however, went on crying, and Ulenspiegel kept muttering under his breath:

“I must break these wicked chains!”

And Soetkin said through her tears:

“I shall go to King Philip. He surely will have mercy!”

But Claes answered that this would be no use since the King was wont to possess himself of the property of those who died as martyrs.... He said also:

“My wife and child, my best beloved, it is with sadness and sorrow that I am about to leave this world. If I have some natural apprehension for my own bodily sufferings, I am no less concerned when I think of you and of how poor and wretched you will be when I am gone, for the King will certainly seize for himself all your goods.”

Ulenspiegel made answer, speaking in a low voice for fear of being overheard:

“Yesterday Nele and I hid all the money.”

“I am glad,” Claes answered; “the informer will not laugh when he comes to count his plunder.”

“I had rather he died than had a penny of it,” said Soetkin with a look of hate in her eyes now dry of tears. But Claes, who was still thinking about the caroluses, said to Ulenspiegel:

“That was clever of you, Tyl, my lad; now Soetkin need not be afraid of going hungry in the old age of her widowhood.”

And Claes embraced her, pressing her close to his breast, and she wept all the more bitterly as she thought how soon she was to lose his tender protection.

Claes looked at Ulenspiegel and said:

“My son, it was wrong of you to go running off along the high roads of the world like any ruffian. You must not do that any more, my boy. You must not leave her alone at home, my widow in her sorrow. For now it is your duty to protect her and take care of her—you, a man.”

“I will, father,” said Ulenspiegel.

“O my poor husband!” cried Soetkin embracing him again. “What crime can we have committed? Nay, we lived our life peaceably together, lowly and humbly, loving each other well—how well Thou, Lord, knowest! Early in the morning we rose for work, and at eventide, rendering our thanks to Thee, we ate our daily bread. Oh, would that I could come at this King, and tear him with my nails! For in nothing, O Lord God, have we offended!”

But here the gaoler entered and said that it was time for them to depart.

Soetkin begged to be allowed to stay, and Claes felt her poor face burning hot as it touched his, and her tears falling in floods and wetting all his cheek, and her poor body shaking and trembling in his arms. He, too, entreated the gaoler that she might be suffered to remain with him. But the gaoler was obdurate, and removed Soetkin by force from the arms of Claes.

“Take care of her,” Claes said to Ulenspiegel.

He promised, and son and mother left the room together, she supported in his arms.

XLIIThe next day, which was the day of the execution, the neighbours, out of pity for their suffering, came and shut up Soetkin and Nele and Ulenspiegel in Katheline’s cottage. For they could not bear that they should see the terrible sight of the burning. Yet it had been forgotten that the far-off cries of the tormented one would reach the cottage, and that those within would be able to see through the windows the flames of the fire.Katheline, meanwhile, went wandering through the town, wagging her head and crying out continually:“Make a hole! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!”At nine of the clock Claes was led out of his prison. He was dressed in a shirt only, and his hands were tied behind his back. In accordance with the sentence that had been passed upon him, the pile was set up in the rue Notre Dame, with a stake in the midst, just in front of the hoarding of the Town Hall. When they arrived there the executioner and his assistants had not yet completed the work of stacking the wood. Claes stood patiently in the midst of his tormentors watching while the work was finished, and all the time the provost on his horse, with the officers of the tribunal and thenine foot-soldiers that had been summoned from Bruges, had the greatest difficulty in keeping order among the people. For they murmured one to another, saying that it was cruelty thus to do to death unjustly a man like Claes, a poor man and already old in years, and one that was so gentle, so forgiving, and such a good and steady workman.Suddenly they all fell upon their knees and began to pray, for the bells of Notre Dame were heard tolling for the dead.Katheline also was among the crowd, right in the front, mad as she was. Fixing her eye on Claes and the pile of wood, she wagged her head and cried continually:“Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!”When Nele and Soetkin heard the sound of the tolling they crossed themselves. But Ulenspiegel did not cross himself, saying that he would never pray to God after the same fashion as those hangmen. But he ran about the cottage, trying to force open the doors or jump from the windows. But they were shut and fastened well.Suddenly Soetkin hid her face in her apron.“The smoke!” she cried.And in very fact, the three mourners could see, mounting high to heaven, a great eddy of smoke; all black it was, the smoke of the funeral pile whereon was Claes, tied to a stake, the smoke of that fire which the executioner had just set burning in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.Claes looked around for Soetkin or Ulenspiegel. But not seeing them anywhere in the crowd he felt happier and more at ease, thinking that they would not know how he suffered. And all the time there was a silence like death, except for the sound of Claes’ voice praying, and the crackling of the wood, the murmuring of men, the weeping of the women, the voice of Katheline as she cried: “Put out the fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!” and over all, the bells of Notre Dame tolling for the dead.Suddenly Soetkin’s face went as white as snow, and her body trembled all over. She did not utter a sound, but pointed to the sky with her finger. For there a long, straight flame of fire had risen above the pyre, and now was leaping high above the roofs of the lower houses. It was a flame of pain and cruelty to Claes, for following the caprice of the breeze, it preyed upon his legs, or touched his head so that it smoked, licking and singeing his hair.Ulenspiegel took Soetkin in his arms and tried to tear her away from the window. Then they heard a sharp cry, the cry which came from Claes when one side of his body was burnt by the dancing flames. But then he was silent again, weeping to himself. And his breast was all wet with his tears.Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together:“He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!”The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob.“Kill him!” they shouted. “Put him out of his misery!” And they began to throw missiles at the provost.Soetkin cried aloud: “The flame! The great flame!”And in very truth they saw now a great red flame, mounting heavenwards, in the midst of the smoke.“He is about to die,” said the widow. “O Lord, of your mercy receive the soul of this innocent. Where is the King, that I may go and tear out his heart with my nails?”And all the while the bells of Notre Dame kept tolling for the dead. Yet again did Soetkin hear a great cry from her husband; but mercifully she was spared the sight of his body writhing in the agony of the fire, and his twisted face, and his head that he turned from side to side and beat upon the wood of the stake. Meanwhile the crowd continued toshout and to hiss, and the boys threw stones, until all of a sudden the whole pile of wood caught alight, and the voice of Claes was heard crying out from the midst of the flame and smoke:“Soetkin! Tyl!”And then his head fell down upon his breast as though it were made of lead.And there came a cry, most piteous and piercing, from the cottage of Katheline; and after that there was silence, except for the poor mad woman wagging her head and saying:“My soul wants to get out!”Claes was dead. The fire burned itself away, smouldering at the foot of the stake whereon the poor body still hung by its neck.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.

XLII

The next day, which was the day of the execution, the neighbours, out of pity for their suffering, came and shut up Soetkin and Nele and Ulenspiegel in Katheline’s cottage. For they could not bear that they should see the terrible sight of the burning. Yet it had been forgotten that the far-off cries of the tormented one would reach the cottage, and that those within would be able to see through the windows the flames of the fire.Katheline, meanwhile, went wandering through the town, wagging her head and crying out continually:“Make a hole! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!”At nine of the clock Claes was led out of his prison. He was dressed in a shirt only, and his hands were tied behind his back. In accordance with the sentence that had been passed upon him, the pile was set up in the rue Notre Dame, with a stake in the midst, just in front of the hoarding of the Town Hall. When they arrived there the executioner and his assistants had not yet completed the work of stacking the wood. Claes stood patiently in the midst of his tormentors watching while the work was finished, and all the time the provost on his horse, with the officers of the tribunal and thenine foot-soldiers that had been summoned from Bruges, had the greatest difficulty in keeping order among the people. For they murmured one to another, saying that it was cruelty thus to do to death unjustly a man like Claes, a poor man and already old in years, and one that was so gentle, so forgiving, and such a good and steady workman.Suddenly they all fell upon their knees and began to pray, for the bells of Notre Dame were heard tolling for the dead.Katheline also was among the crowd, right in the front, mad as she was. Fixing her eye on Claes and the pile of wood, she wagged her head and cried continually:“Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!”When Nele and Soetkin heard the sound of the tolling they crossed themselves. But Ulenspiegel did not cross himself, saying that he would never pray to God after the same fashion as those hangmen. But he ran about the cottage, trying to force open the doors or jump from the windows. But they were shut and fastened well.Suddenly Soetkin hid her face in her apron.“The smoke!” she cried.And in very fact, the three mourners could see, mounting high to heaven, a great eddy of smoke; all black it was, the smoke of the funeral pile whereon was Claes, tied to a stake, the smoke of that fire which the executioner had just set burning in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.Claes looked around for Soetkin or Ulenspiegel. But not seeing them anywhere in the crowd he felt happier and more at ease, thinking that they would not know how he suffered. And all the time there was a silence like death, except for the sound of Claes’ voice praying, and the crackling of the wood, the murmuring of men, the weeping of the women, the voice of Katheline as she cried: “Put out the fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!” and over all, the bells of Notre Dame tolling for the dead.Suddenly Soetkin’s face went as white as snow, and her body trembled all over. She did not utter a sound, but pointed to the sky with her finger. For there a long, straight flame of fire had risen above the pyre, and now was leaping high above the roofs of the lower houses. It was a flame of pain and cruelty to Claes, for following the caprice of the breeze, it preyed upon his legs, or touched his head so that it smoked, licking and singeing his hair.Ulenspiegel took Soetkin in his arms and tried to tear her away from the window. Then they heard a sharp cry, the cry which came from Claes when one side of his body was burnt by the dancing flames. But then he was silent again, weeping to himself. And his breast was all wet with his tears.Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together:“He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!”The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob.“Kill him!” they shouted. “Put him out of his misery!” And they began to throw missiles at the provost.Soetkin cried aloud: “The flame! The great flame!”And in very truth they saw now a great red flame, mounting heavenwards, in the midst of the smoke.“He is about to die,” said the widow. “O Lord, of your mercy receive the soul of this innocent. Where is the King, that I may go and tear out his heart with my nails?”And all the while the bells of Notre Dame kept tolling for the dead. Yet again did Soetkin hear a great cry from her husband; but mercifully she was spared the sight of his body writhing in the agony of the fire, and his twisted face, and his head that he turned from side to side and beat upon the wood of the stake. Meanwhile the crowd continued toshout and to hiss, and the boys threw stones, until all of a sudden the whole pile of wood caught alight, and the voice of Claes was heard crying out from the midst of the flame and smoke:“Soetkin! Tyl!”And then his head fell down upon his breast as though it were made of lead.And there came a cry, most piteous and piercing, from the cottage of Katheline; and after that there was silence, except for the poor mad woman wagging her head and saying:“My soul wants to get out!”Claes was dead. The fire burned itself away, smouldering at the foot of the stake whereon the poor body still hung by its neck.And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.

The next day, which was the day of the execution, the neighbours, out of pity for their suffering, came and shut up Soetkin and Nele and Ulenspiegel in Katheline’s cottage. For they could not bear that they should see the terrible sight of the burning. Yet it had been forgotten that the far-off cries of the tormented one would reach the cottage, and that those within would be able to see through the windows the flames of the fire.

Katheline, meanwhile, went wandering through the town, wagging her head and crying out continually:

“Make a hole! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!”

At nine of the clock Claes was led out of his prison. He was dressed in a shirt only, and his hands were tied behind his back. In accordance with the sentence that had been passed upon him, the pile was set up in the rue Notre Dame, with a stake in the midst, just in front of the hoarding of the Town Hall. When they arrived there the executioner and his assistants had not yet completed the work of stacking the wood. Claes stood patiently in the midst of his tormentors watching while the work was finished, and all the time the provost on his horse, with the officers of the tribunal and thenine foot-soldiers that had been summoned from Bruges, had the greatest difficulty in keeping order among the people. For they murmured one to another, saying that it was cruelty thus to do to death unjustly a man like Claes, a poor man and already old in years, and one that was so gentle, so forgiving, and such a good and steady workman.

Suddenly they all fell upon their knees and began to pray, for the bells of Notre Dame were heard tolling for the dead.

Katheline also was among the crowd, right in the front, mad as she was. Fixing her eye on Claes and the pile of wood, she wagged her head and cried continually:

“Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!”

When Nele and Soetkin heard the sound of the tolling they crossed themselves. But Ulenspiegel did not cross himself, saying that he would never pray to God after the same fashion as those hangmen. But he ran about the cottage, trying to force open the doors or jump from the windows. But they were shut and fastened well.

Suddenly Soetkin hid her face in her apron.

“The smoke!” she cried.

And in very fact, the three mourners could see, mounting high to heaven, a great eddy of smoke; all black it was, the smoke of the funeral pile whereon was Claes, tied to a stake, the smoke of that fire which the executioner had just set burning in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.

Claes looked around for Soetkin or Ulenspiegel. But not seeing them anywhere in the crowd he felt happier and more at ease, thinking that they would not know how he suffered. And all the time there was a silence like death, except for the sound of Claes’ voice praying, and the crackling of the wood, the murmuring of men, the weeping of the women, the voice of Katheline as she cried: “Put out the fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!” and over all, the bells of Notre Dame tolling for the dead.

Suddenly Soetkin’s face went as white as snow, and her body trembled all over. She did not utter a sound, but pointed to the sky with her finger. For there a long, straight flame of fire had risen above the pyre, and now was leaping high above the roofs of the lower houses. It was a flame of pain and cruelty to Claes, for following the caprice of the breeze, it preyed upon his legs, or touched his head so that it smoked, licking and singeing his hair.

Ulenspiegel took Soetkin in his arms and tried to tear her away from the window. Then they heard a sharp cry, the cry which came from Claes when one side of his body was burnt by the dancing flames. But then he was silent again, weeping to himself. And his breast was all wet with his tears.

Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together:

“He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!”

The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob.

“Kill him!” they shouted. “Put him out of his misery!” And they began to throw missiles at the provost.

Soetkin cried aloud: “The flame! The great flame!”

And in very truth they saw now a great red flame, mounting heavenwards, in the midst of the smoke.

“He is about to die,” said the widow. “O Lord, of your mercy receive the soul of this innocent. Where is the King, that I may go and tear out his heart with my nails?”

And all the while the bells of Notre Dame kept tolling for the dead. Yet again did Soetkin hear a great cry from her husband; but mercifully she was spared the sight of his body writhing in the agony of the fire, and his twisted face, and his head that he turned from side to side and beat upon the wood of the stake. Meanwhile the crowd continued toshout and to hiss, and the boys threw stones, until all of a sudden the whole pile of wood caught alight, and the voice of Claes was heard crying out from the midst of the flame and smoke:

“Soetkin! Tyl!”

And then his head fell down upon his breast as though it were made of lead.

And there came a cry, most piteous and piercing, from the cottage of Katheline; and after that there was silence, except for the poor mad woman wagging her head and saying:

“My soul wants to get out!”

Claes was dead. The fire burned itself away, smouldering at the foot of the stake whereon the poor body still hung by its neck.

And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.

XLIIIIn Katheline’s cottage Soetkin stood leaning against the wall, with her head hanging down and her hands clasped together. She held Ulenspiegel in her arms, speechless and without a tear. Neither did Ulenspiegel say anything. It made him afraid to feel the burning fever that raged in the body of his mother.The neighbours, returning from the place of execution, came to the cottage and told how Claes had made an end of his sufferings.“He is in glory,” said the widow.“Pray for him,” said Nele, putting her rosary into the hands of Ulenspiegel. But he would make no use of it, giving as his reason that the beads had been blessed by the Pope.At last night came, and Ulenspiegel urged his mother to go to bed, telling her that he himself would sit up and keep watch in the room. But Soetkin said that there was no need for him to do that. Let him sleep also, for the young haveneed of a good night’s rest. So Nele prepared two beds for them in the kitchen, and after that she left them.Mother and son stayed up together while what remained of the wood fire burned itself out in the grate. Then Soetkin retired to her bed, and Ulenspiegel did likewise, listening to his mother sobbing to herself under the bedclothes.Outside in the silence of the night the wind made a murmuring sound in the trees by the canal. It was like the far-off sound of waves, and it meant that autumn was coming soon. Also, there were great eddies of dust that beat against the cottage windows.Now it seemed to Ulenspiegel that he saw the figure of a man going to and fro in the room, and he thought he heard the sound of footsteps coming and going in the kitchen. But when he looked he no longer saw the man, and listening he no longer heard those footsteps, but only the sound of the wind as it whistled in the chimney and Soetkin crying under the bedclothes.Then once again he heard those footsteps, and just behind him, near his head, a soft sigh.“Who is it?” he said.No one answered, but quite distinctly came the sound of three taps on the table. Ulenspiegel was afraid, and began to tremble. “Who is it?” he said again. No one answered, but once more there came the three taps upon the table, and after that he felt two arms hugging him round, and over him there leant a man’s body with skin all wrinkled and a great hole in its breast that gave forth a smell of burning.“Father,” said Ulenspiegel, “is it you, and is this your poor body that weighs thus upon me?”He received no answer to his question, and although the shadow seemed still quite close, it was from outside the cottage that he heard a voice crying out to him by name, “Tyl! Tyl!”Suddenly Soetkin got out of bed and came over to where Ulenspiegel was lying.“Do you hear something?” she said.“Yes,” he answered, “it is father calling to me.”“I too,” said Soetkin, “I have felt a cold body beside me in my bed, and the mattress has moved, and the curtains. And I heard a voice that spoke my name: ‘Soetkin!’ it said, a voice soft as a whisper. And I heard a step near by, light as the sound of a gnat’s wings.” Then she addressed herself to the spirit of Claes: “If there is aught that you desire in that heaven where God guards you in his glory, you must tell me, my man, that we may know what you would have us do.”All of a sudden a mighty gust of wind came blowing upon the door, and it burst wide open and straightway the room was filled with dust; and from afar, Soetkin and Ulenspiegel could hear the sound of the cawing of many ravens.They went out of the cottage, and came together to the place of torture....It was a black night, save where the clouds—coursing in the sky like stags before the keen north wind—were parted here and there so as to disclose the glittering face of some star.By the remnants of the pile strode a sergeant of the commune, up and down, keeping guard. Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard his steps as they resounded on the hardened ground, and together with that sound there came the cry of a raven, calling his fellows, doubtless; for from far away there came the sound of other caws in answer.Ulenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesUlenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesAs Soetkin and Ulenspiegel approached the pile the raven swooped down upon the shoulder of Claes, and they could hear its beak pecking upon the body. And soon the other ravens followed. Ulenspiegel would have thrown himself upon the pile and beaten them off had not the sergeant come up and prevented him.“Are you a sorcerer,” cried the man, “that comes hither for the hands of the dead as a talisman, and yet do you not know that the hands of a man that has been burnt to deathpossess no power of invisibility, but only hands of one who has been hanged—such as you yourself will be one of these days?”“Sir,” Ulenspiegel replied, “I am no sorcerer, but the orphaned son of the man tied to this stake here. And this woman is the dead man’s widow. We only wish to kiss him once again, and to take away a few of his ashes in his memory. Give us leave, sir, pray, for you are certainly no foreign soldier, but a son of this land.”“Very well,” said the sergeant.So the orphan and the widow made their way over the charred wood and approached the body. Weeping, they both kissed the face of Claes.Then Ulenspiegel found the place where the heart had been, a great hole hollowed out by the flames, and therefrom he took a few ashes. Then Soetkin and he knelt down and said a prayer, and when the sky began to turn pale in the dawn they were still kneeling there together. But the sergeant drove them off, for he was afraid that he would be punished for his kindness.When they were home again Soetkin took a piece of red silk, and a piece of black silk, and she made a little bag to contain the ashes. And on the little bag she sewed two ribbons so that Ulenspiegel could always carry it suspended round his neck. And she gave it to him with these words:“These ashes are the heart of my husband. This red ribbon is his blood. This black one is our sorrow. Always upon your breast let them lie, and call down thereby the fire of vengeance upon his torturers.”“Amen,” said Ulenspiegel.And the widow embraced her orphan, and the sun rose.

XLIII

In Katheline’s cottage Soetkin stood leaning against the wall, with her head hanging down and her hands clasped together. She held Ulenspiegel in her arms, speechless and without a tear. Neither did Ulenspiegel say anything. It made him afraid to feel the burning fever that raged in the body of his mother.The neighbours, returning from the place of execution, came to the cottage and told how Claes had made an end of his sufferings.“He is in glory,” said the widow.“Pray for him,” said Nele, putting her rosary into the hands of Ulenspiegel. But he would make no use of it, giving as his reason that the beads had been blessed by the Pope.At last night came, and Ulenspiegel urged his mother to go to bed, telling her that he himself would sit up and keep watch in the room. But Soetkin said that there was no need for him to do that. Let him sleep also, for the young haveneed of a good night’s rest. So Nele prepared two beds for them in the kitchen, and after that she left them.Mother and son stayed up together while what remained of the wood fire burned itself out in the grate. Then Soetkin retired to her bed, and Ulenspiegel did likewise, listening to his mother sobbing to herself under the bedclothes.Outside in the silence of the night the wind made a murmuring sound in the trees by the canal. It was like the far-off sound of waves, and it meant that autumn was coming soon. Also, there were great eddies of dust that beat against the cottage windows.Now it seemed to Ulenspiegel that he saw the figure of a man going to and fro in the room, and he thought he heard the sound of footsteps coming and going in the kitchen. But when he looked he no longer saw the man, and listening he no longer heard those footsteps, but only the sound of the wind as it whistled in the chimney and Soetkin crying under the bedclothes.Then once again he heard those footsteps, and just behind him, near his head, a soft sigh.“Who is it?” he said.No one answered, but quite distinctly came the sound of three taps on the table. Ulenspiegel was afraid, and began to tremble. “Who is it?” he said again. No one answered, but once more there came the three taps upon the table, and after that he felt two arms hugging him round, and over him there leant a man’s body with skin all wrinkled and a great hole in its breast that gave forth a smell of burning.“Father,” said Ulenspiegel, “is it you, and is this your poor body that weighs thus upon me?”He received no answer to his question, and although the shadow seemed still quite close, it was from outside the cottage that he heard a voice crying out to him by name, “Tyl! Tyl!”Suddenly Soetkin got out of bed and came over to where Ulenspiegel was lying.“Do you hear something?” she said.“Yes,” he answered, “it is father calling to me.”“I too,” said Soetkin, “I have felt a cold body beside me in my bed, and the mattress has moved, and the curtains. And I heard a voice that spoke my name: ‘Soetkin!’ it said, a voice soft as a whisper. And I heard a step near by, light as the sound of a gnat’s wings.” Then she addressed herself to the spirit of Claes: “If there is aught that you desire in that heaven where God guards you in his glory, you must tell me, my man, that we may know what you would have us do.”All of a sudden a mighty gust of wind came blowing upon the door, and it burst wide open and straightway the room was filled with dust; and from afar, Soetkin and Ulenspiegel could hear the sound of the cawing of many ravens.They went out of the cottage, and came together to the place of torture....It was a black night, save where the clouds—coursing in the sky like stags before the keen north wind—were parted here and there so as to disclose the glittering face of some star.By the remnants of the pile strode a sergeant of the commune, up and down, keeping guard. Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard his steps as they resounded on the hardened ground, and together with that sound there came the cry of a raven, calling his fellows, doubtless; for from far away there came the sound of other caws in answer.Ulenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesUlenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesAs Soetkin and Ulenspiegel approached the pile the raven swooped down upon the shoulder of Claes, and they could hear its beak pecking upon the body. And soon the other ravens followed. Ulenspiegel would have thrown himself upon the pile and beaten them off had not the sergeant come up and prevented him.“Are you a sorcerer,” cried the man, “that comes hither for the hands of the dead as a talisman, and yet do you not know that the hands of a man that has been burnt to deathpossess no power of invisibility, but only hands of one who has been hanged—such as you yourself will be one of these days?”“Sir,” Ulenspiegel replied, “I am no sorcerer, but the orphaned son of the man tied to this stake here. And this woman is the dead man’s widow. We only wish to kiss him once again, and to take away a few of his ashes in his memory. Give us leave, sir, pray, for you are certainly no foreign soldier, but a son of this land.”“Very well,” said the sergeant.So the orphan and the widow made their way over the charred wood and approached the body. Weeping, they both kissed the face of Claes.Then Ulenspiegel found the place where the heart had been, a great hole hollowed out by the flames, and therefrom he took a few ashes. Then Soetkin and he knelt down and said a prayer, and when the sky began to turn pale in the dawn they were still kneeling there together. But the sergeant drove them off, for he was afraid that he would be punished for his kindness.When they were home again Soetkin took a piece of red silk, and a piece of black silk, and she made a little bag to contain the ashes. And on the little bag she sewed two ribbons so that Ulenspiegel could always carry it suspended round his neck. And she gave it to him with these words:“These ashes are the heart of my husband. This red ribbon is his blood. This black one is our sorrow. Always upon your breast let them lie, and call down thereby the fire of vengeance upon his torturers.”“Amen,” said Ulenspiegel.And the widow embraced her orphan, and the sun rose.

In Katheline’s cottage Soetkin stood leaning against the wall, with her head hanging down and her hands clasped together. She held Ulenspiegel in her arms, speechless and without a tear. Neither did Ulenspiegel say anything. It made him afraid to feel the burning fever that raged in the body of his mother.

The neighbours, returning from the place of execution, came to the cottage and told how Claes had made an end of his sufferings.

“He is in glory,” said the widow.

“Pray for him,” said Nele, putting her rosary into the hands of Ulenspiegel. But he would make no use of it, giving as his reason that the beads had been blessed by the Pope.

At last night came, and Ulenspiegel urged his mother to go to bed, telling her that he himself would sit up and keep watch in the room. But Soetkin said that there was no need for him to do that. Let him sleep also, for the young haveneed of a good night’s rest. So Nele prepared two beds for them in the kitchen, and after that she left them.

Mother and son stayed up together while what remained of the wood fire burned itself out in the grate. Then Soetkin retired to her bed, and Ulenspiegel did likewise, listening to his mother sobbing to herself under the bedclothes.

Outside in the silence of the night the wind made a murmuring sound in the trees by the canal. It was like the far-off sound of waves, and it meant that autumn was coming soon. Also, there were great eddies of dust that beat against the cottage windows.

Now it seemed to Ulenspiegel that he saw the figure of a man going to and fro in the room, and he thought he heard the sound of footsteps coming and going in the kitchen. But when he looked he no longer saw the man, and listening he no longer heard those footsteps, but only the sound of the wind as it whistled in the chimney and Soetkin crying under the bedclothes.

Then once again he heard those footsteps, and just behind him, near his head, a soft sigh.

“Who is it?” he said.

No one answered, but quite distinctly came the sound of three taps on the table. Ulenspiegel was afraid, and began to tremble. “Who is it?” he said again. No one answered, but once more there came the three taps upon the table, and after that he felt two arms hugging him round, and over him there leant a man’s body with skin all wrinkled and a great hole in its breast that gave forth a smell of burning.

“Father,” said Ulenspiegel, “is it you, and is this your poor body that weighs thus upon me?”

He received no answer to his question, and although the shadow seemed still quite close, it was from outside the cottage that he heard a voice crying out to him by name, “Tyl! Tyl!”

Suddenly Soetkin got out of bed and came over to where Ulenspiegel was lying.

“Do you hear something?” she said.

“Yes,” he answered, “it is father calling to me.”

“I too,” said Soetkin, “I have felt a cold body beside me in my bed, and the mattress has moved, and the curtains. And I heard a voice that spoke my name: ‘Soetkin!’ it said, a voice soft as a whisper. And I heard a step near by, light as the sound of a gnat’s wings.” Then she addressed herself to the spirit of Claes: “If there is aught that you desire in that heaven where God guards you in his glory, you must tell me, my man, that we may know what you would have us do.”

All of a sudden a mighty gust of wind came blowing upon the door, and it burst wide open and straightway the room was filled with dust; and from afar, Soetkin and Ulenspiegel could hear the sound of the cawing of many ravens.

They went out of the cottage, and came together to the place of torture....

It was a black night, save where the clouds—coursing in the sky like stags before the keen north wind—were parted here and there so as to disclose the glittering face of some star.

By the remnants of the pile strode a sergeant of the commune, up and down, keeping guard. Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard his steps as they resounded on the hardened ground, and together with that sound there came the cry of a raven, calling his fellows, doubtless; for from far away there came the sound of other caws in answer.

Ulenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of ClaesUlenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of Claes

Ulenspiegel and Soetkin by the Dead Body of Claes

As Soetkin and Ulenspiegel approached the pile the raven swooped down upon the shoulder of Claes, and they could hear its beak pecking upon the body. And soon the other ravens followed. Ulenspiegel would have thrown himself upon the pile and beaten them off had not the sergeant come up and prevented him.

“Are you a sorcerer,” cried the man, “that comes hither for the hands of the dead as a talisman, and yet do you not know that the hands of a man that has been burnt to deathpossess no power of invisibility, but only hands of one who has been hanged—such as you yourself will be one of these days?”

“Sir,” Ulenspiegel replied, “I am no sorcerer, but the orphaned son of the man tied to this stake here. And this woman is the dead man’s widow. We only wish to kiss him once again, and to take away a few of his ashes in his memory. Give us leave, sir, pray, for you are certainly no foreign soldier, but a son of this land.”

“Very well,” said the sergeant.

So the orphan and the widow made their way over the charred wood and approached the body. Weeping, they both kissed the face of Claes.

Then Ulenspiegel found the place where the heart had been, a great hole hollowed out by the flames, and therefrom he took a few ashes. Then Soetkin and he knelt down and said a prayer, and when the sky began to turn pale in the dawn they were still kneeling there together. But the sergeant drove them off, for he was afraid that he would be punished for his kindness.

When they were home again Soetkin took a piece of red silk, and a piece of black silk, and she made a little bag to contain the ashes. And on the little bag she sewed two ribbons so that Ulenspiegel could always carry it suspended round his neck. And she gave it to him with these words:

“These ashes are the heart of my husband. This red ribbon is his blood. This black one is our sorrow. Always upon your breast let them lie, and call down thereby the fire of vengeance upon his torturers.”

“Amen,” said Ulenspiegel.

And the widow embraced her orphan, and the sun rose.

XLIVIn that year, being the fifty-eighth year of the century, Katheline came into Soetkin’s house and spake as follows:“Last night, being anointed with balm, I was transported to the tower of Notre Dame, and I beheld the elemental spirits that carry the prayers of men to the angels, and they in their turn, flying up towards the highest heaven, bring them to the Throne of God. And everywhere the sky was strewn with glittering stars. Suddenly I saw the figure of a man that seemed all blackened and charred, rising from a funeral pile. Mounting up towards me, this figure took its place beside me on the tower. I saw that it was Claes, just as he was in life, dressed in his charcoal-burner’s clothes. He asked me what I was doing there on the tower of Notre Dame. ‘And you,’ I asked in my turn, ‘whither are you off to, flying in the air like a bird?’ ‘I am going,’ he answered, ‘to judgment. Hear you not the angel’s trump that summons me?’ I was quite close to him, and could feel the very substance of his spiritual body—not hard and resisting to the touch like the bodies of those that are alive, but so rarefied that to come up against it was like advancing into a kind of warm mist. And at my feet stretched out on every side the land of Flanders, with a few lights shining here and there, and I said to myself: ‘They that rise early and work late, surely they are the blessed of God!’ And all the time I could hear the angel’s trumpet calling through the night. And presently I saw another shade mounting up towards me from the land of Spain. This was an old man and decrepit, with a protruding chin, and quince jam all oozing from the corners of his lips.“On its back it wore a cloak of crimson velvet lined with ermine, and on its head an imperial crown, and it kept nibbling a piece of anchovy which it carried in one hand, while in the other hand it clutched a tankard of beer. I could see that this spirit was tired out and had come to the tower of Notre Dame to rest itself. Kneeling down, I addressed it in these words: ‘Most Imperial Majesty, of a truth I revere you, yet I know not who you are. Whencecome you? And what was your position in the world?’ ‘I come,’ answered the shade, ‘from Saint Juste in the country of Estramadoure. I was the Emperor Charles the Fifth.’ ‘But,’ said I, ‘whither, pray, are you going on such a cold night as this, and over these clouds that are all heavy and charged with hail?’ ‘I go,’ answered the shade, ‘to judgment.’“Just as the Emperor was about to finish his anchovy and drink up his tankard of beer, the angel’s trumpet sounded, and straightway he had to betake himself to the air again, grumbling at this sudden interruption of his repast. High aloft he mounted through space, I following close behind; and as he went he hiccuped with fatigue, and coughed asthmatically, even vomited now and again; for death had come upon him at a time when he was suffering from a fit of indigestion. Thus ceaselessly we soared aloft like arrows shot from a bow of cornel-wood. The stars glimmered all around us, and time and again we saw them detach themselves and fall headlong, tracing long strokes of fire upon the sky. Once more the angel’s trump resounded, very shrill and powerful. Each fanfare seemed to cleave for itself a pathway through the cloudy air, scattering the mists asunder like a hurricane that has begun to blow from near at hand. And by this means our track was marked out clearly for us, till at length, when we had been carried up and up a thousand leagues and more, we beheld Christ Himself in His glory, seated upon a throne of stars. And at His right hand was the angel who records the deeds of men upon a register of brass, and at His left hand stood Mary His Mother, she that for ever implores mercy for poor sinners.“Claes and the Emperor knelt down together before the throne. And the angel took off the crown from the head of the Emperor, and cast it away.“‘There is only one Emperor here,’ he said. It is ‘Christ!’“His Sacred Majesty could not conceal his annoyance;yet managed to assume a humble tone of voice as he begged to be allowed to keep his anchovy and his tankard of beer, for that he had come a long way and was very hungry.“‘Hungry you have been all your life,’ said the angel, ‘nevertheless, you may go on with your eating and drinking if you want to.’“The Emperor emptied the tankard of beer and took a nibble at the anchovy. Then Christ addressed him with these words:“‘Do you present yourself to judgment with a clean soul?’“‘I trust so, dear Lord,’ answered Charles the Emperor, ‘for I have confessed my sins and am well shriven.’“‘And you, Claes? You do not seem to be trembling like the Emperor.’“‘My Lord Jesus,’ answered Claes, ‘there is no soul that is clean, and how should I be afraid of you, you that are sovereign good and sovereign justice. Nevertheless, I am afraid of my sins, for they are many.’“‘Speak, carrion!’ said the angel, addressing himself to the Emperor.“‘I, Lord,’ said Charles, in an embarrassed tone of voice, ‘I am he that was anointed with oil by your priests, and crowned King of Castile, Emperor of Germany, and King of the Romans. It has ever been my first care to maintain that power which was given me by you, and to that end I have done my best by hanging and by sword, by burning and by burying alive, by pit and by fire to keep down all Reformers and Protestants.’“But the angel said:“‘O you false and dyspeptic man, you are trying to deceive us. In Germany, forsooth, you were tolerant enough of the Protestants, seeing that there you had good cause to be afraid of them. But in the Netherlands you beheaded, burned, hanged, and buried them alive, for there your only fear was lest you might fail to inherit sufficient of theirproperty—so rich and plenteous, like the honey made by busy bees. And there perished at your hands one hundred thousand souls, not at all because you loved the Lord Christ, but because you were a despot, a tyrant, a waster of your country, and one that loved himself first of all, and after that, nothing but meat, fish, wine, and beer, for you were always as greedy as a dog and as thirsty as a sponge.’“When the angel had made an end, Christ commanded that Claes should speak, but now the angel rose from his place, saying: ‘This man has nothing to answer. He was a good, hard-working man, as are all the poor people of Flanders, willing either for work or play; one that kept faith with his masters and trusted his masters to keep faith with him. But he possessed a certain amount of money, and it was for this reason that an accusation was brought against him, and inasmuch as he had harboured in his house a heretic, he was condemned to be burnt alive.’“‘Alas!’ cried Mary, ‘the poor martyr! But here in heaven there are springs of fresh water, fountains of milk, and exquisite wine which will refresh you, and I myself will lead you there, good charcoal-burner!’“And now the angel’s trumpet sounded yet again, and I saw a man, naked and very beautiful, rising from the abyss. On his head was an iron crown, and on the rim of the crown these words inscribed: ‘Sorrowful till the day of judgment.’“He approached the throne and said to Christ:“‘Thy slave I am until that day when I shall be Thy master!’“‘O Satan,’ said Mary, ‘the day will come when there shall be neither slave nor master any more, and when Christ who is Love, and Satan who is Pride, shall stand forth together as the One Lord both of Power and of Knowledge.’“‘Woman,’ said Satan, ‘thou art all goodness and all beauty.’“Then addressing himself to Christ, and pointing at thesame time towards the Emperor, Satan demanded what was to be done with him. Christ answered:“‘Take this crowned wormling and put him in a room wherein you have collected together all instruments of torture which were in use under his rule. And each time that some innocent wretch is made to suffer the torture of water, whereby the bodies of men swell up like bladders; or the torture of the candles, whereby the soles of their feet or their armpits are burned and scorched; or the torture of thestrappado, whereby their limbs are broken; or the torture of the four wagons that drags them asunder—and every time that a free soul breathes out its last upon the funeral pile let this man also endure in his turn these same deaths and tortures, to the end that he may learn in his own person what evil may be wrought in the world by an unjust man who has power over his fellows. Let him languish in prison, let him meet death upon the scaffold, let him mourn in exile, far from his native land, let him be scorned, abused, and flogged with many whips. Let him know what it is to be rich and see all his property eaten up by the tax-gatherer, let him be accused by informers and ruined by confiscations. Turn him into an ass that he may know what it is to be gentle by nature and at the same time ill-treated and badly fed; let him be a poor man that asks for alms and is answered only with abuse; let him be a workman that labours too long and eats too little; and then, when he has thus well suffered both in his body and his soul, turn him into a dog that he may be beaten, an Indian slave that he may be sold to the highest bidder, a soldier that he may fight for another and be killed without knowing why. And then, at the end of three hundred years, when he has exhausted all sufferings and all miseries, make a free man of him, and if in that state of life he is good like Claes here, you may lay at last his body to rest in some quiet corner of earth that is shady in the noonday heat and open to the morning sun, and there beneath a beautifultree and covered with fresh sward, he shall find eternal repose. And his friends shall come to his grave to moisten it with their tears, and to sow violets there, which are called the flowers of remembrance.’“But Mary said: ‘Have mercy upon him, O my Son; he knew not what he did, and we know how power hardens the heart.’“‘There is no mercy for him,’ said Christ.“‘Alas!’ cried His Sacred Majesty, ‘woe is me! Would that I had but a single glass of Andalusian wine!’“‘Come,’ said Satan, ‘it is past the time for wine or meat or poultry!’“And away he carried off the soul of the poor Emperor, down to the nethermost hell, still nibbling as he went his piece of anchovy. For this Satan suffered him to do out of pity.“Thereafter I saw that Our Lady conducted Claes away and up into the highest heaven, where is nothing but stars hanging from the roof like clusters of grapes. And there the angels washed him clean, and he became all beautiful and young, and they gave himrystpapto drink in silver ladles. And then the heavens closed.”“Claes is in glory,” said the widow.“His ashes beat against my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.

XLIV

In that year, being the fifty-eighth year of the century, Katheline came into Soetkin’s house and spake as follows:“Last night, being anointed with balm, I was transported to the tower of Notre Dame, and I beheld the elemental spirits that carry the prayers of men to the angels, and they in their turn, flying up towards the highest heaven, bring them to the Throne of God. And everywhere the sky was strewn with glittering stars. Suddenly I saw the figure of a man that seemed all blackened and charred, rising from a funeral pile. Mounting up towards me, this figure took its place beside me on the tower. I saw that it was Claes, just as he was in life, dressed in his charcoal-burner’s clothes. He asked me what I was doing there on the tower of Notre Dame. ‘And you,’ I asked in my turn, ‘whither are you off to, flying in the air like a bird?’ ‘I am going,’ he answered, ‘to judgment. Hear you not the angel’s trump that summons me?’ I was quite close to him, and could feel the very substance of his spiritual body—not hard and resisting to the touch like the bodies of those that are alive, but so rarefied that to come up against it was like advancing into a kind of warm mist. And at my feet stretched out on every side the land of Flanders, with a few lights shining here and there, and I said to myself: ‘They that rise early and work late, surely they are the blessed of God!’ And all the time I could hear the angel’s trumpet calling through the night. And presently I saw another shade mounting up towards me from the land of Spain. This was an old man and decrepit, with a protruding chin, and quince jam all oozing from the corners of his lips.“On its back it wore a cloak of crimson velvet lined with ermine, and on its head an imperial crown, and it kept nibbling a piece of anchovy which it carried in one hand, while in the other hand it clutched a tankard of beer. I could see that this spirit was tired out and had come to the tower of Notre Dame to rest itself. Kneeling down, I addressed it in these words: ‘Most Imperial Majesty, of a truth I revere you, yet I know not who you are. Whencecome you? And what was your position in the world?’ ‘I come,’ answered the shade, ‘from Saint Juste in the country of Estramadoure. I was the Emperor Charles the Fifth.’ ‘But,’ said I, ‘whither, pray, are you going on such a cold night as this, and over these clouds that are all heavy and charged with hail?’ ‘I go,’ answered the shade, ‘to judgment.’“Just as the Emperor was about to finish his anchovy and drink up his tankard of beer, the angel’s trumpet sounded, and straightway he had to betake himself to the air again, grumbling at this sudden interruption of his repast. High aloft he mounted through space, I following close behind; and as he went he hiccuped with fatigue, and coughed asthmatically, even vomited now and again; for death had come upon him at a time when he was suffering from a fit of indigestion. Thus ceaselessly we soared aloft like arrows shot from a bow of cornel-wood. The stars glimmered all around us, and time and again we saw them detach themselves and fall headlong, tracing long strokes of fire upon the sky. Once more the angel’s trump resounded, very shrill and powerful. Each fanfare seemed to cleave for itself a pathway through the cloudy air, scattering the mists asunder like a hurricane that has begun to blow from near at hand. And by this means our track was marked out clearly for us, till at length, when we had been carried up and up a thousand leagues and more, we beheld Christ Himself in His glory, seated upon a throne of stars. And at His right hand was the angel who records the deeds of men upon a register of brass, and at His left hand stood Mary His Mother, she that for ever implores mercy for poor sinners.“Claes and the Emperor knelt down together before the throne. And the angel took off the crown from the head of the Emperor, and cast it away.“‘There is only one Emperor here,’ he said. It is ‘Christ!’“His Sacred Majesty could not conceal his annoyance;yet managed to assume a humble tone of voice as he begged to be allowed to keep his anchovy and his tankard of beer, for that he had come a long way and was very hungry.“‘Hungry you have been all your life,’ said the angel, ‘nevertheless, you may go on with your eating and drinking if you want to.’“The Emperor emptied the tankard of beer and took a nibble at the anchovy. Then Christ addressed him with these words:“‘Do you present yourself to judgment with a clean soul?’“‘I trust so, dear Lord,’ answered Charles the Emperor, ‘for I have confessed my sins and am well shriven.’“‘And you, Claes? You do not seem to be trembling like the Emperor.’“‘My Lord Jesus,’ answered Claes, ‘there is no soul that is clean, and how should I be afraid of you, you that are sovereign good and sovereign justice. Nevertheless, I am afraid of my sins, for they are many.’“‘Speak, carrion!’ said the angel, addressing himself to the Emperor.“‘I, Lord,’ said Charles, in an embarrassed tone of voice, ‘I am he that was anointed with oil by your priests, and crowned King of Castile, Emperor of Germany, and King of the Romans. It has ever been my first care to maintain that power which was given me by you, and to that end I have done my best by hanging and by sword, by burning and by burying alive, by pit and by fire to keep down all Reformers and Protestants.’“But the angel said:“‘O you false and dyspeptic man, you are trying to deceive us. In Germany, forsooth, you were tolerant enough of the Protestants, seeing that there you had good cause to be afraid of them. But in the Netherlands you beheaded, burned, hanged, and buried them alive, for there your only fear was lest you might fail to inherit sufficient of theirproperty—so rich and plenteous, like the honey made by busy bees. And there perished at your hands one hundred thousand souls, not at all because you loved the Lord Christ, but because you were a despot, a tyrant, a waster of your country, and one that loved himself first of all, and after that, nothing but meat, fish, wine, and beer, for you were always as greedy as a dog and as thirsty as a sponge.’“When the angel had made an end, Christ commanded that Claes should speak, but now the angel rose from his place, saying: ‘This man has nothing to answer. He was a good, hard-working man, as are all the poor people of Flanders, willing either for work or play; one that kept faith with his masters and trusted his masters to keep faith with him. But he possessed a certain amount of money, and it was for this reason that an accusation was brought against him, and inasmuch as he had harboured in his house a heretic, he was condemned to be burnt alive.’“‘Alas!’ cried Mary, ‘the poor martyr! But here in heaven there are springs of fresh water, fountains of milk, and exquisite wine which will refresh you, and I myself will lead you there, good charcoal-burner!’“And now the angel’s trumpet sounded yet again, and I saw a man, naked and very beautiful, rising from the abyss. On his head was an iron crown, and on the rim of the crown these words inscribed: ‘Sorrowful till the day of judgment.’“He approached the throne and said to Christ:“‘Thy slave I am until that day when I shall be Thy master!’“‘O Satan,’ said Mary, ‘the day will come when there shall be neither slave nor master any more, and when Christ who is Love, and Satan who is Pride, shall stand forth together as the One Lord both of Power and of Knowledge.’“‘Woman,’ said Satan, ‘thou art all goodness and all beauty.’“Then addressing himself to Christ, and pointing at thesame time towards the Emperor, Satan demanded what was to be done with him. Christ answered:“‘Take this crowned wormling and put him in a room wherein you have collected together all instruments of torture which were in use under his rule. And each time that some innocent wretch is made to suffer the torture of water, whereby the bodies of men swell up like bladders; or the torture of the candles, whereby the soles of their feet or their armpits are burned and scorched; or the torture of thestrappado, whereby their limbs are broken; or the torture of the four wagons that drags them asunder—and every time that a free soul breathes out its last upon the funeral pile let this man also endure in his turn these same deaths and tortures, to the end that he may learn in his own person what evil may be wrought in the world by an unjust man who has power over his fellows. Let him languish in prison, let him meet death upon the scaffold, let him mourn in exile, far from his native land, let him be scorned, abused, and flogged with many whips. Let him know what it is to be rich and see all his property eaten up by the tax-gatherer, let him be accused by informers and ruined by confiscations. Turn him into an ass that he may know what it is to be gentle by nature and at the same time ill-treated and badly fed; let him be a poor man that asks for alms and is answered only with abuse; let him be a workman that labours too long and eats too little; and then, when he has thus well suffered both in his body and his soul, turn him into a dog that he may be beaten, an Indian slave that he may be sold to the highest bidder, a soldier that he may fight for another and be killed without knowing why. And then, at the end of three hundred years, when he has exhausted all sufferings and all miseries, make a free man of him, and if in that state of life he is good like Claes here, you may lay at last his body to rest in some quiet corner of earth that is shady in the noonday heat and open to the morning sun, and there beneath a beautifultree and covered with fresh sward, he shall find eternal repose. And his friends shall come to his grave to moisten it with their tears, and to sow violets there, which are called the flowers of remembrance.’“But Mary said: ‘Have mercy upon him, O my Son; he knew not what he did, and we know how power hardens the heart.’“‘There is no mercy for him,’ said Christ.“‘Alas!’ cried His Sacred Majesty, ‘woe is me! Would that I had but a single glass of Andalusian wine!’“‘Come,’ said Satan, ‘it is past the time for wine or meat or poultry!’“And away he carried off the soul of the poor Emperor, down to the nethermost hell, still nibbling as he went his piece of anchovy. For this Satan suffered him to do out of pity.“Thereafter I saw that Our Lady conducted Claes away and up into the highest heaven, where is nothing but stars hanging from the roof like clusters of grapes. And there the angels washed him clean, and he became all beautiful and young, and they gave himrystpapto drink in silver ladles. And then the heavens closed.”“Claes is in glory,” said the widow.“His ashes beat against my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.

In that year, being the fifty-eighth year of the century, Katheline came into Soetkin’s house and spake as follows:

“Last night, being anointed with balm, I was transported to the tower of Notre Dame, and I beheld the elemental spirits that carry the prayers of men to the angels, and they in their turn, flying up towards the highest heaven, bring them to the Throne of God. And everywhere the sky was strewn with glittering stars. Suddenly I saw the figure of a man that seemed all blackened and charred, rising from a funeral pile. Mounting up towards me, this figure took its place beside me on the tower. I saw that it was Claes, just as he was in life, dressed in his charcoal-burner’s clothes. He asked me what I was doing there on the tower of Notre Dame. ‘And you,’ I asked in my turn, ‘whither are you off to, flying in the air like a bird?’ ‘I am going,’ he answered, ‘to judgment. Hear you not the angel’s trump that summons me?’ I was quite close to him, and could feel the very substance of his spiritual body—not hard and resisting to the touch like the bodies of those that are alive, but so rarefied that to come up against it was like advancing into a kind of warm mist. And at my feet stretched out on every side the land of Flanders, with a few lights shining here and there, and I said to myself: ‘They that rise early and work late, surely they are the blessed of God!’ And all the time I could hear the angel’s trumpet calling through the night. And presently I saw another shade mounting up towards me from the land of Spain. This was an old man and decrepit, with a protruding chin, and quince jam all oozing from the corners of his lips.

“On its back it wore a cloak of crimson velvet lined with ermine, and on its head an imperial crown, and it kept nibbling a piece of anchovy which it carried in one hand, while in the other hand it clutched a tankard of beer. I could see that this spirit was tired out and had come to the tower of Notre Dame to rest itself. Kneeling down, I addressed it in these words: ‘Most Imperial Majesty, of a truth I revere you, yet I know not who you are. Whencecome you? And what was your position in the world?’ ‘I come,’ answered the shade, ‘from Saint Juste in the country of Estramadoure. I was the Emperor Charles the Fifth.’ ‘But,’ said I, ‘whither, pray, are you going on such a cold night as this, and over these clouds that are all heavy and charged with hail?’ ‘I go,’ answered the shade, ‘to judgment.’

“Just as the Emperor was about to finish his anchovy and drink up his tankard of beer, the angel’s trumpet sounded, and straightway he had to betake himself to the air again, grumbling at this sudden interruption of his repast. High aloft he mounted through space, I following close behind; and as he went he hiccuped with fatigue, and coughed asthmatically, even vomited now and again; for death had come upon him at a time when he was suffering from a fit of indigestion. Thus ceaselessly we soared aloft like arrows shot from a bow of cornel-wood. The stars glimmered all around us, and time and again we saw them detach themselves and fall headlong, tracing long strokes of fire upon the sky. Once more the angel’s trump resounded, very shrill and powerful. Each fanfare seemed to cleave for itself a pathway through the cloudy air, scattering the mists asunder like a hurricane that has begun to blow from near at hand. And by this means our track was marked out clearly for us, till at length, when we had been carried up and up a thousand leagues and more, we beheld Christ Himself in His glory, seated upon a throne of stars. And at His right hand was the angel who records the deeds of men upon a register of brass, and at His left hand stood Mary His Mother, she that for ever implores mercy for poor sinners.

“Claes and the Emperor knelt down together before the throne. And the angel took off the crown from the head of the Emperor, and cast it away.

“‘There is only one Emperor here,’ he said. It is ‘Christ!’

“His Sacred Majesty could not conceal his annoyance;yet managed to assume a humble tone of voice as he begged to be allowed to keep his anchovy and his tankard of beer, for that he had come a long way and was very hungry.

“‘Hungry you have been all your life,’ said the angel, ‘nevertheless, you may go on with your eating and drinking if you want to.’

“The Emperor emptied the tankard of beer and took a nibble at the anchovy. Then Christ addressed him with these words:

“‘Do you present yourself to judgment with a clean soul?’

“‘I trust so, dear Lord,’ answered Charles the Emperor, ‘for I have confessed my sins and am well shriven.’

“‘And you, Claes? You do not seem to be trembling like the Emperor.’

“‘My Lord Jesus,’ answered Claes, ‘there is no soul that is clean, and how should I be afraid of you, you that are sovereign good and sovereign justice. Nevertheless, I am afraid of my sins, for they are many.’

“‘Speak, carrion!’ said the angel, addressing himself to the Emperor.

“‘I, Lord,’ said Charles, in an embarrassed tone of voice, ‘I am he that was anointed with oil by your priests, and crowned King of Castile, Emperor of Germany, and King of the Romans. It has ever been my first care to maintain that power which was given me by you, and to that end I have done my best by hanging and by sword, by burning and by burying alive, by pit and by fire to keep down all Reformers and Protestants.’

“But the angel said:

“‘O you false and dyspeptic man, you are trying to deceive us. In Germany, forsooth, you were tolerant enough of the Protestants, seeing that there you had good cause to be afraid of them. But in the Netherlands you beheaded, burned, hanged, and buried them alive, for there your only fear was lest you might fail to inherit sufficient of theirproperty—so rich and plenteous, like the honey made by busy bees. And there perished at your hands one hundred thousand souls, not at all because you loved the Lord Christ, but because you were a despot, a tyrant, a waster of your country, and one that loved himself first of all, and after that, nothing but meat, fish, wine, and beer, for you were always as greedy as a dog and as thirsty as a sponge.’

“When the angel had made an end, Christ commanded that Claes should speak, but now the angel rose from his place, saying: ‘This man has nothing to answer. He was a good, hard-working man, as are all the poor people of Flanders, willing either for work or play; one that kept faith with his masters and trusted his masters to keep faith with him. But he possessed a certain amount of money, and it was for this reason that an accusation was brought against him, and inasmuch as he had harboured in his house a heretic, he was condemned to be burnt alive.’

“‘Alas!’ cried Mary, ‘the poor martyr! But here in heaven there are springs of fresh water, fountains of milk, and exquisite wine which will refresh you, and I myself will lead you there, good charcoal-burner!’

“And now the angel’s trumpet sounded yet again, and I saw a man, naked and very beautiful, rising from the abyss. On his head was an iron crown, and on the rim of the crown these words inscribed: ‘Sorrowful till the day of judgment.’

“He approached the throne and said to Christ:

“‘Thy slave I am until that day when I shall be Thy master!’

“‘O Satan,’ said Mary, ‘the day will come when there shall be neither slave nor master any more, and when Christ who is Love, and Satan who is Pride, shall stand forth together as the One Lord both of Power and of Knowledge.’

“‘Woman,’ said Satan, ‘thou art all goodness and all beauty.’

“Then addressing himself to Christ, and pointing at thesame time towards the Emperor, Satan demanded what was to be done with him. Christ answered:

“‘Take this crowned wormling and put him in a room wherein you have collected together all instruments of torture which were in use under his rule. And each time that some innocent wretch is made to suffer the torture of water, whereby the bodies of men swell up like bladders; or the torture of the candles, whereby the soles of their feet or their armpits are burned and scorched; or the torture of thestrappado, whereby their limbs are broken; or the torture of the four wagons that drags them asunder—and every time that a free soul breathes out its last upon the funeral pile let this man also endure in his turn these same deaths and tortures, to the end that he may learn in his own person what evil may be wrought in the world by an unjust man who has power over his fellows. Let him languish in prison, let him meet death upon the scaffold, let him mourn in exile, far from his native land, let him be scorned, abused, and flogged with many whips. Let him know what it is to be rich and see all his property eaten up by the tax-gatherer, let him be accused by informers and ruined by confiscations. Turn him into an ass that he may know what it is to be gentle by nature and at the same time ill-treated and badly fed; let him be a poor man that asks for alms and is answered only with abuse; let him be a workman that labours too long and eats too little; and then, when he has thus well suffered both in his body and his soul, turn him into a dog that he may be beaten, an Indian slave that he may be sold to the highest bidder, a soldier that he may fight for another and be killed without knowing why. And then, at the end of three hundred years, when he has exhausted all sufferings and all miseries, make a free man of him, and if in that state of life he is good like Claes here, you may lay at last his body to rest in some quiet corner of earth that is shady in the noonday heat and open to the morning sun, and there beneath a beautifultree and covered with fresh sward, he shall find eternal repose. And his friends shall come to his grave to moisten it with their tears, and to sow violets there, which are called the flowers of remembrance.’

“But Mary said: ‘Have mercy upon him, O my Son; he knew not what he did, and we know how power hardens the heart.’

“‘There is no mercy for him,’ said Christ.

“‘Alas!’ cried His Sacred Majesty, ‘woe is me! Would that I had but a single glass of Andalusian wine!’

“‘Come,’ said Satan, ‘it is past the time for wine or meat or poultry!’

“And away he carried off the soul of the poor Emperor, down to the nethermost hell, still nibbling as he went his piece of anchovy. For this Satan suffered him to do out of pity.

“Thereafter I saw that Our Lady conducted Claes away and up into the highest heaven, where is nothing but stars hanging from the roof like clusters of grapes. And there the angels washed him clean, and he became all beautiful and young, and they gave himrystpapto drink in silver ladles. And then the heavens closed.”

“Claes is in glory,” said the widow.

“His ashes beat against my heart,” said Ulenspiegel.

XLVDuring all the three and twenty days that followed, Katheline grew paler and paler, and thin and all dried up as though devoured not only by the madness that consumed her but by some interior fire that was even deadlier still. No more did she cry out as of old: “Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!” But she was continually transported into a kind of ecstasy, in which she spake to Nele many strange words.“A wife I am,” she said, “and a wife you also ought to be.My husband is a handsome man. A hairy man is he, hot with love. But his knees and his arms, they are cold!” And Soetkin looked at her sadly, wondering what new kind of madness this might be. But Katheline continued:“Three times three are nine, the sacred number. He whose eyes glitter in the night like the eyes of a cat—he only it is that sees the mystery.”One evening when Katheline was talking in this way, Soetkin made a gesture of misgiving. But Katheline said:“Under Saturn, four and three mean misfortune. But under Venus, it is the marriage number. Cold arms! Cold knees! Heart of fire!”Soetkin answered:“It is wrong to talk in this way of these wicked pagan idols.”But Katheline only crossed herself and said:“Blessed be the grey horseman. Nele must have a husband—a handsome husband that carries a sword, a dusky husband with a shining face!”“Yes,” cried Ulenspiegel, “a very fricassee of a husband, for whom I will make a sauce with my knife!”Nele looked at her lover with eyes that were moist with pleasure to see him so jealous.“None of your husbands for me!” she said.But Katheline made answer:“When cometh he? He that is clad in grey, and booted and spurred?”Soetkin bade them say a prayer to God for the poor afflicted one, whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch four quarts ofdobbel kuytwhat time she made ready someheete-koeken, as pancakes are called in Flanders.Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Saturday like the Jews.“Because the butter is ready,” said Katheline.So Ulenspiegel stood up and took in his hand the big pot of English pewter that held just four quarts.“Mother,” he asked, “what shall I do?”“Go,” said Katheline.Soetkin did not like to say anything more, for she was not mistress of the house. So she told her son to go and do as Katheline had bidden him. Ulenspiegel ran to the tavern and brought back with him the four quarts ofdobbel kuyt. And soon the kitchen reeked with the good smell of pancakes, and every one felt hungry, even the poor afflicted Katheline.Ulenspiegel ate heartily, and drank heartily also, for Katheline had given him a full tankard, saying, with a malicious look, that it behoved him to drink more than the others seeing that he was the only male and the head of the house. Afterwards she asked him to give them a song.But Ulenspiegel did not sing, and Nele was all tearful, seeing Soetkin so pale, and as it were all sunken into herself. Katheline alone of them all appeared to be happy.When the meal was over Soetkin and Ulenspiegel went up into the loft to bed. Katheline and Nele stayed behind, for they slept together in the kitchen.All was quiet until the second hour after midnight. Ulenspiegel had already been asleep for a long time because of all the beer he had been drinking. But Soetkin, as her custom was, lay on with eyes wide open, praying Our Lady to send her sleep, but with no avail.All of a sudden she heard the cry of a sea-eagle, and from the kitchen came a like cry, in answer. Then, from far off in the country somewhere, other cries resounded, always as it seemed in answer to that cry in the kitchen just below.Soetkin tried to think it was only the night-birds calling to one another, and endeavoured to distract her attention from those sounds. But presently she heard a neighing of horses and a noise as of iron sabots beating along the high road. Then it was that she opened the window of the loftand saw that in very fact there were a couple of horses saddled just outside the cottage, pawing the ground and nibbling the grass that grew by the side of the road. Thereafter she heard the voice of a woman crying out in fear, and a man’s voice threatening, followed by the sound of blows, more cries, a door shutting with a bang, and then steps running up the ladder in mortal fear:Allthistime Ulenspiegel was snoring away in his bed, hearing nothing, till the door of the loft opened and Nele came in, out of breath, sobbing, and with scarcely anything on. As hastily as she could the girl dragged against the door a table, some chairs, an old heating stove, any bit of furniture that was to hand. With these she made a rough-and-ready barricade. Meanwhile, outside, the last stars were paling in the heavens and the cocks beginning to crow.Ulenspiegel had turned over in his bed at the noise Nele was making, but now he had gone to sleep again. Nele, meanwhile, had thrown herself on to Soetkin’s neck.“Soetkin,” she said, “I am afraid. Light the candle, do!”Soetkin did so, and all the time Nele never left off moaning. By the light of the candle Soetkin looked the girl up and down. Her shift was torn at the shoulder and in front, and there were traces of blood upon her neck and cheek, such as might be left by the scratch of a finger-nail.“Whence have you come? And what are these wounds?” Soetkin asked her.Trembling and groaning all the time, the girl made answer:“For mercy’s sake, Soetkin, do not bring us to the stake!”Ulenspiegel meanwhile had awakened from his sleep, and was blinking his eyes in the sudden light of the candle. Soetkin said:“Who is it down there?”“Not so loud!” Nele whispered. “It is the husband Katheline desired for me.”All at once Soetkin and Nele heard Katheline cry out in aloud voice, and their legs gave way beneath them in their terror.“He is beating her,” said Nele, “he is beating her because of me!”“Who is it in the house?” cried Ulenspiegel, jumping out of bed. And then, rubbing his eyes, he went stalking up and down the room till at last he found a heavy poker that stood in the corner. He took hold of it, but Nele tried to dissuade him, telling him that there was no one there. But he paid no attention, running to the door and throwing to one side the chairs and tables and the stove that Nele had piled up in front of it. All this time Katheline was crying out from the kitchen, and Nele and Soetkin held Ulenspiegel—the one by the waist, the other by the legs—and tried to prevent him from descending the stairs. “Don’t go down,” they told him. “Don’t go down, Ulenspiegel. There are devils down there.”“Forsooth,” says he, “Nele’s devil-husband! Him verily will I join in marriage to this long poker of mine! A marriage of iron and flesh! Let me go!”But they did not loose their hold, hanging on as they were to the landing rail.And all the time Ulenspiegel was trying to drag them down the staircase, and they the more frightened as they came nearer to the devils below. And they could avail naught against him, so that at last, descending now by leaps and bounds like a snowball that falls from the top of a mountain, he came into the kitchen. And there was Katheline, all exhausted and pale in the light of dawn.“Hanske,” she was saying, “O Hanske, why must you leave me? Is it my fault if Nele is naughty?”Ulenspiegel did not take any notice of her, but straightway opened the door of the shed, and finding no one there, rushed out into the yard, and thence into the high road. Far away he descried two horses galloping off and disappearing in themist. He ran after them hoping to overtake them, but he could not, for they went like a south wind that scours the dry autumn leaves.Ulenspiegel was angry with disappointment, and he came back into the cottage grieving sore in his heart and muttering between his teeth:“They have done their worst on her! They have done their worst!...”And he looked on Nele with eyes that burned with an evil flame. But Nele, all trembling, stood up before Katheline and the widow.“No!” she cried. “No, Tyl, my lover! No!”And as she spoke she looked him straight in the face, so sadly and so frankly that Ulenspiegel saw clearly that what she said was true. Then he spake again, and questioned her:“But whence came those cries, and whither went those men? Why is your shift all torn on the shoulder and the back? And why do you bear on forehead and cheek these marks of a man’s nails?”“I will tell you,” she said, “but be careful that you do not have us burned at the stake for what I shall tell you. You must know that Katheline—whom God save from Hell—hath had these three-and-twenty days a devil for her lover. He is dressed all in black, he is booted and spurred. His face gleams with a flame of fire like what one sees in summer-time when it is hot, on the waves of the sea.”And Katheline whimpered: “Why, oh why, have you left me, Hanske, my pet? Nele is naughty!”But Nele went on with her story:“The devil announces his approach in a voice that is like the crying of a sea-eagle. Every Saturday my mother receives him in the kitchen. And she says that his kisses are cold and that his body is like snow. One time he brought her some florins, but he took from her all the other money that she had.”All this time Soetkin kept on praying for Katheline, with clasped hands. But Katheline spake joyfully:“My body is mine no more. My mind is mine no more. O Hanske, my pet, take me with you yet once again, I beg you, to the Witches’ Sabbath. Only Nele will never come. Nele is naughty, I tell you.”But Nele went on with her story:“At dawn,” she said, “the devil would go away, and the next day my mother would relate to me a hundred strange things. But, Tyl dear, you must not look at me with those cruel eyes.... Yesterday, for instance, she told me that a splendid prince, clad in grey, Hilbert by name, was anxious to take me in marriage, and that he was coming here himself that I might see him. I told her that I wanted no husband, handsome or plain. Nevertheless, by weight of her maternal authority she persuaded me to stay up for him, for she certainly keeps all her wits about her in whatever pertains to her amours. Well, we were half undressed, ready to go to bed; and I had gone off to sleep sitting on that chair. It seems that I did not wake up when they came in, and the first thing I knew was that some one was embracing me and kissing me on the neck. And then, by the bright light of the moon, I beheld a face that shone like the crests of the waves of a July sea when there is thunder in the air, and I heard a low voice speaking to me and saying: ‘I am your husband, Hilbert. Be mine! I will make thee rich.’ And from the face of him that spake these words there came an odour like the odour of fish. Quickly I pushed that face away from me, but the man tried to take me by force, and although I had the strength of ten against him, he managed to tear my shift and scratch my face, crying out the while that if only I would give myself to him he would make me rich. ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘as rich as my mother, whom you have deprived of her lastliard!’ At that he redoubled his violence, but he could not do anything against me. And at last, since he was moredisgusting than a corpse, I scratched him in the eye with my nails so sharply that he cried out with pain, and I was able to make my escape and run up here to Soetkin.”And all this while Katheline kept on with her “Nele is naughty. And why did you go away so soon, O Hanske, my pet?”But Soetkin asked her where she had been while wicked men were attempting the honour of her child.“It is Nele that is naughty,” Katheline replied. “As for me, I was in company of my black master, when the devil in grey comes to us, with his face all bloody. ‘Come away,’ he cries, ‘come away, my boy, this is an evil house; for the men, it seems, are of a mind to fight with one to the death, and the women carry knives at the tips of their fingers.’ And there and then they ran off to their horses, and disappeared in the mist. Ah, Nele, Nele! She is a naughty lass, I tell you!”

XLV

During all the three and twenty days that followed, Katheline grew paler and paler, and thin and all dried up as though devoured not only by the madness that consumed her but by some interior fire that was even deadlier still. No more did she cry out as of old: “Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!” But she was continually transported into a kind of ecstasy, in which she spake to Nele many strange words.“A wife I am,” she said, “and a wife you also ought to be.My husband is a handsome man. A hairy man is he, hot with love. But his knees and his arms, they are cold!” And Soetkin looked at her sadly, wondering what new kind of madness this might be. But Katheline continued:“Three times three are nine, the sacred number. He whose eyes glitter in the night like the eyes of a cat—he only it is that sees the mystery.”One evening when Katheline was talking in this way, Soetkin made a gesture of misgiving. But Katheline said:“Under Saturn, four and three mean misfortune. But under Venus, it is the marriage number. Cold arms! Cold knees! Heart of fire!”Soetkin answered:“It is wrong to talk in this way of these wicked pagan idols.”But Katheline only crossed herself and said:“Blessed be the grey horseman. Nele must have a husband—a handsome husband that carries a sword, a dusky husband with a shining face!”“Yes,” cried Ulenspiegel, “a very fricassee of a husband, for whom I will make a sauce with my knife!”Nele looked at her lover with eyes that were moist with pleasure to see him so jealous.“None of your husbands for me!” she said.But Katheline made answer:“When cometh he? He that is clad in grey, and booted and spurred?”Soetkin bade them say a prayer to God for the poor afflicted one, whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch four quarts ofdobbel kuytwhat time she made ready someheete-koeken, as pancakes are called in Flanders.Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Saturday like the Jews.“Because the butter is ready,” said Katheline.So Ulenspiegel stood up and took in his hand the big pot of English pewter that held just four quarts.“Mother,” he asked, “what shall I do?”“Go,” said Katheline.Soetkin did not like to say anything more, for she was not mistress of the house. So she told her son to go and do as Katheline had bidden him. Ulenspiegel ran to the tavern and brought back with him the four quarts ofdobbel kuyt. And soon the kitchen reeked with the good smell of pancakes, and every one felt hungry, even the poor afflicted Katheline.Ulenspiegel ate heartily, and drank heartily also, for Katheline had given him a full tankard, saying, with a malicious look, that it behoved him to drink more than the others seeing that he was the only male and the head of the house. Afterwards she asked him to give them a song.But Ulenspiegel did not sing, and Nele was all tearful, seeing Soetkin so pale, and as it were all sunken into herself. Katheline alone of them all appeared to be happy.When the meal was over Soetkin and Ulenspiegel went up into the loft to bed. Katheline and Nele stayed behind, for they slept together in the kitchen.All was quiet until the second hour after midnight. Ulenspiegel had already been asleep for a long time because of all the beer he had been drinking. But Soetkin, as her custom was, lay on with eyes wide open, praying Our Lady to send her sleep, but with no avail.All of a sudden she heard the cry of a sea-eagle, and from the kitchen came a like cry, in answer. Then, from far off in the country somewhere, other cries resounded, always as it seemed in answer to that cry in the kitchen just below.Soetkin tried to think it was only the night-birds calling to one another, and endeavoured to distract her attention from those sounds. But presently she heard a neighing of horses and a noise as of iron sabots beating along the high road. Then it was that she opened the window of the loftand saw that in very fact there were a couple of horses saddled just outside the cottage, pawing the ground and nibbling the grass that grew by the side of the road. Thereafter she heard the voice of a woman crying out in fear, and a man’s voice threatening, followed by the sound of blows, more cries, a door shutting with a bang, and then steps running up the ladder in mortal fear:Allthistime Ulenspiegel was snoring away in his bed, hearing nothing, till the door of the loft opened and Nele came in, out of breath, sobbing, and with scarcely anything on. As hastily as she could the girl dragged against the door a table, some chairs, an old heating stove, any bit of furniture that was to hand. With these she made a rough-and-ready barricade. Meanwhile, outside, the last stars were paling in the heavens and the cocks beginning to crow.Ulenspiegel had turned over in his bed at the noise Nele was making, but now he had gone to sleep again. Nele, meanwhile, had thrown herself on to Soetkin’s neck.“Soetkin,” she said, “I am afraid. Light the candle, do!”Soetkin did so, and all the time Nele never left off moaning. By the light of the candle Soetkin looked the girl up and down. Her shift was torn at the shoulder and in front, and there were traces of blood upon her neck and cheek, such as might be left by the scratch of a finger-nail.“Whence have you come? And what are these wounds?” Soetkin asked her.Trembling and groaning all the time, the girl made answer:“For mercy’s sake, Soetkin, do not bring us to the stake!”Ulenspiegel meanwhile had awakened from his sleep, and was blinking his eyes in the sudden light of the candle. Soetkin said:“Who is it down there?”“Not so loud!” Nele whispered. “It is the husband Katheline desired for me.”All at once Soetkin and Nele heard Katheline cry out in aloud voice, and their legs gave way beneath them in their terror.“He is beating her,” said Nele, “he is beating her because of me!”“Who is it in the house?” cried Ulenspiegel, jumping out of bed. And then, rubbing his eyes, he went stalking up and down the room till at last he found a heavy poker that stood in the corner. He took hold of it, but Nele tried to dissuade him, telling him that there was no one there. But he paid no attention, running to the door and throwing to one side the chairs and tables and the stove that Nele had piled up in front of it. All this time Katheline was crying out from the kitchen, and Nele and Soetkin held Ulenspiegel—the one by the waist, the other by the legs—and tried to prevent him from descending the stairs. “Don’t go down,” they told him. “Don’t go down, Ulenspiegel. There are devils down there.”“Forsooth,” says he, “Nele’s devil-husband! Him verily will I join in marriage to this long poker of mine! A marriage of iron and flesh! Let me go!”But they did not loose their hold, hanging on as they were to the landing rail.And all the time Ulenspiegel was trying to drag them down the staircase, and they the more frightened as they came nearer to the devils below. And they could avail naught against him, so that at last, descending now by leaps and bounds like a snowball that falls from the top of a mountain, he came into the kitchen. And there was Katheline, all exhausted and pale in the light of dawn.“Hanske,” she was saying, “O Hanske, why must you leave me? Is it my fault if Nele is naughty?”Ulenspiegel did not take any notice of her, but straightway opened the door of the shed, and finding no one there, rushed out into the yard, and thence into the high road. Far away he descried two horses galloping off and disappearing in themist. He ran after them hoping to overtake them, but he could not, for they went like a south wind that scours the dry autumn leaves.Ulenspiegel was angry with disappointment, and he came back into the cottage grieving sore in his heart and muttering between his teeth:“They have done their worst on her! They have done their worst!...”And he looked on Nele with eyes that burned with an evil flame. But Nele, all trembling, stood up before Katheline and the widow.“No!” she cried. “No, Tyl, my lover! No!”And as she spoke she looked him straight in the face, so sadly and so frankly that Ulenspiegel saw clearly that what she said was true. Then he spake again, and questioned her:“But whence came those cries, and whither went those men? Why is your shift all torn on the shoulder and the back? And why do you bear on forehead and cheek these marks of a man’s nails?”“I will tell you,” she said, “but be careful that you do not have us burned at the stake for what I shall tell you. You must know that Katheline—whom God save from Hell—hath had these three-and-twenty days a devil for her lover. He is dressed all in black, he is booted and spurred. His face gleams with a flame of fire like what one sees in summer-time when it is hot, on the waves of the sea.”And Katheline whimpered: “Why, oh why, have you left me, Hanske, my pet? Nele is naughty!”But Nele went on with her story:“The devil announces his approach in a voice that is like the crying of a sea-eagle. Every Saturday my mother receives him in the kitchen. And she says that his kisses are cold and that his body is like snow. One time he brought her some florins, but he took from her all the other money that she had.”All this time Soetkin kept on praying for Katheline, with clasped hands. But Katheline spake joyfully:“My body is mine no more. My mind is mine no more. O Hanske, my pet, take me with you yet once again, I beg you, to the Witches’ Sabbath. Only Nele will never come. Nele is naughty, I tell you.”But Nele went on with her story:“At dawn,” she said, “the devil would go away, and the next day my mother would relate to me a hundred strange things. But, Tyl dear, you must not look at me with those cruel eyes.... Yesterday, for instance, she told me that a splendid prince, clad in grey, Hilbert by name, was anxious to take me in marriage, and that he was coming here himself that I might see him. I told her that I wanted no husband, handsome or plain. Nevertheless, by weight of her maternal authority she persuaded me to stay up for him, for she certainly keeps all her wits about her in whatever pertains to her amours. Well, we were half undressed, ready to go to bed; and I had gone off to sleep sitting on that chair. It seems that I did not wake up when they came in, and the first thing I knew was that some one was embracing me and kissing me on the neck. And then, by the bright light of the moon, I beheld a face that shone like the crests of the waves of a July sea when there is thunder in the air, and I heard a low voice speaking to me and saying: ‘I am your husband, Hilbert. Be mine! I will make thee rich.’ And from the face of him that spake these words there came an odour like the odour of fish. Quickly I pushed that face away from me, but the man tried to take me by force, and although I had the strength of ten against him, he managed to tear my shift and scratch my face, crying out the while that if only I would give myself to him he would make me rich. ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘as rich as my mother, whom you have deprived of her lastliard!’ At that he redoubled his violence, but he could not do anything against me. And at last, since he was moredisgusting than a corpse, I scratched him in the eye with my nails so sharply that he cried out with pain, and I was able to make my escape and run up here to Soetkin.”And all this while Katheline kept on with her “Nele is naughty. And why did you go away so soon, O Hanske, my pet?”But Soetkin asked her where she had been while wicked men were attempting the honour of her child.“It is Nele that is naughty,” Katheline replied. “As for me, I was in company of my black master, when the devil in grey comes to us, with his face all bloody. ‘Come away,’ he cries, ‘come away, my boy, this is an evil house; for the men, it seems, are of a mind to fight with one to the death, and the women carry knives at the tips of their fingers.’ And there and then they ran off to their horses, and disappeared in the mist. Ah, Nele, Nele! She is a naughty lass, I tell you!”

During all the three and twenty days that followed, Katheline grew paler and paler, and thin and all dried up as though devoured not only by the madness that consumed her but by some interior fire that was even deadlier still. No more did she cry out as of old: “Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!” But she was continually transported into a kind of ecstasy, in which she spake to Nele many strange words.

“A wife I am,” she said, “and a wife you also ought to be.My husband is a handsome man. A hairy man is he, hot with love. But his knees and his arms, they are cold!” And Soetkin looked at her sadly, wondering what new kind of madness this might be. But Katheline continued:

“Three times three are nine, the sacred number. He whose eyes glitter in the night like the eyes of a cat—he only it is that sees the mystery.”

One evening when Katheline was talking in this way, Soetkin made a gesture of misgiving. But Katheline said:

“Under Saturn, four and three mean misfortune. But under Venus, it is the marriage number. Cold arms! Cold knees! Heart of fire!”

Soetkin answered:

“It is wrong to talk in this way of these wicked pagan idols.”

But Katheline only crossed herself and said:

“Blessed be the grey horseman. Nele must have a husband—a handsome husband that carries a sword, a dusky husband with a shining face!”

“Yes,” cried Ulenspiegel, “a very fricassee of a husband, for whom I will make a sauce with my knife!”

Nele looked at her lover with eyes that were moist with pleasure to see him so jealous.

“None of your husbands for me!” she said.

But Katheline made answer:

“When cometh he? He that is clad in grey, and booted and spurred?”

Soetkin bade them say a prayer to God for the poor afflicted one, whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch four quarts ofdobbel kuytwhat time she made ready someheete-koeken, as pancakes are called in Flanders.

Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Saturday like the Jews.

“Because the butter is ready,” said Katheline.

So Ulenspiegel stood up and took in his hand the big pot of English pewter that held just four quarts.

“Mother,” he asked, “what shall I do?”

“Go,” said Katheline.

Soetkin did not like to say anything more, for she was not mistress of the house. So she told her son to go and do as Katheline had bidden him. Ulenspiegel ran to the tavern and brought back with him the four quarts ofdobbel kuyt. And soon the kitchen reeked with the good smell of pancakes, and every one felt hungry, even the poor afflicted Katheline.

Ulenspiegel ate heartily, and drank heartily also, for Katheline had given him a full tankard, saying, with a malicious look, that it behoved him to drink more than the others seeing that he was the only male and the head of the house. Afterwards she asked him to give them a song.

But Ulenspiegel did not sing, and Nele was all tearful, seeing Soetkin so pale, and as it were all sunken into herself. Katheline alone of them all appeared to be happy.

When the meal was over Soetkin and Ulenspiegel went up into the loft to bed. Katheline and Nele stayed behind, for they slept together in the kitchen.

All was quiet until the second hour after midnight. Ulenspiegel had already been asleep for a long time because of all the beer he had been drinking. But Soetkin, as her custom was, lay on with eyes wide open, praying Our Lady to send her sleep, but with no avail.

All of a sudden she heard the cry of a sea-eagle, and from the kitchen came a like cry, in answer. Then, from far off in the country somewhere, other cries resounded, always as it seemed in answer to that cry in the kitchen just below.

Soetkin tried to think it was only the night-birds calling to one another, and endeavoured to distract her attention from those sounds. But presently she heard a neighing of horses and a noise as of iron sabots beating along the high road. Then it was that she opened the window of the loftand saw that in very fact there were a couple of horses saddled just outside the cottage, pawing the ground and nibbling the grass that grew by the side of the road. Thereafter she heard the voice of a woman crying out in fear, and a man’s voice threatening, followed by the sound of blows, more cries, a door shutting with a bang, and then steps running up the ladder in mortal fear:

Allthistime Ulenspiegel was snoring away in his bed, hearing nothing, till the door of the loft opened and Nele came in, out of breath, sobbing, and with scarcely anything on. As hastily as she could the girl dragged against the door a table, some chairs, an old heating stove, any bit of furniture that was to hand. With these she made a rough-and-ready barricade. Meanwhile, outside, the last stars were paling in the heavens and the cocks beginning to crow.

Ulenspiegel had turned over in his bed at the noise Nele was making, but now he had gone to sleep again. Nele, meanwhile, had thrown herself on to Soetkin’s neck.

“Soetkin,” she said, “I am afraid. Light the candle, do!”

Soetkin did so, and all the time Nele never left off moaning. By the light of the candle Soetkin looked the girl up and down. Her shift was torn at the shoulder and in front, and there were traces of blood upon her neck and cheek, such as might be left by the scratch of a finger-nail.

“Whence have you come? And what are these wounds?” Soetkin asked her.

Trembling and groaning all the time, the girl made answer:

“For mercy’s sake, Soetkin, do not bring us to the stake!”

Ulenspiegel meanwhile had awakened from his sleep, and was blinking his eyes in the sudden light of the candle. Soetkin said:

“Who is it down there?”

“Not so loud!” Nele whispered. “It is the husband Katheline desired for me.”

All at once Soetkin and Nele heard Katheline cry out in aloud voice, and their legs gave way beneath them in their terror.

“He is beating her,” said Nele, “he is beating her because of me!”

“Who is it in the house?” cried Ulenspiegel, jumping out of bed. And then, rubbing his eyes, he went stalking up and down the room till at last he found a heavy poker that stood in the corner. He took hold of it, but Nele tried to dissuade him, telling him that there was no one there. But he paid no attention, running to the door and throwing to one side the chairs and tables and the stove that Nele had piled up in front of it. All this time Katheline was crying out from the kitchen, and Nele and Soetkin held Ulenspiegel—the one by the waist, the other by the legs—and tried to prevent him from descending the stairs. “Don’t go down,” they told him. “Don’t go down, Ulenspiegel. There are devils down there.”

“Forsooth,” says he, “Nele’s devil-husband! Him verily will I join in marriage to this long poker of mine! A marriage of iron and flesh! Let me go!”

But they did not loose their hold, hanging on as they were to the landing rail.

And all the time Ulenspiegel was trying to drag them down the staircase, and they the more frightened as they came nearer to the devils below. And they could avail naught against him, so that at last, descending now by leaps and bounds like a snowball that falls from the top of a mountain, he came into the kitchen. And there was Katheline, all exhausted and pale in the light of dawn.

“Hanske,” she was saying, “O Hanske, why must you leave me? Is it my fault if Nele is naughty?”

Ulenspiegel did not take any notice of her, but straightway opened the door of the shed, and finding no one there, rushed out into the yard, and thence into the high road. Far away he descried two horses galloping off and disappearing in themist. He ran after them hoping to overtake them, but he could not, for they went like a south wind that scours the dry autumn leaves.

Ulenspiegel was angry with disappointment, and he came back into the cottage grieving sore in his heart and muttering between his teeth:

“They have done their worst on her! They have done their worst!...”

And he looked on Nele with eyes that burned with an evil flame. But Nele, all trembling, stood up before Katheline and the widow.

“No!” she cried. “No, Tyl, my lover! No!”

And as she spoke she looked him straight in the face, so sadly and so frankly that Ulenspiegel saw clearly that what she said was true. Then he spake again, and questioned her:

“But whence came those cries, and whither went those men? Why is your shift all torn on the shoulder and the back? And why do you bear on forehead and cheek these marks of a man’s nails?”

“I will tell you,” she said, “but be careful that you do not have us burned at the stake for what I shall tell you. You must know that Katheline—whom God save from Hell—hath had these three-and-twenty days a devil for her lover. He is dressed all in black, he is booted and spurred. His face gleams with a flame of fire like what one sees in summer-time when it is hot, on the waves of the sea.”

And Katheline whimpered: “Why, oh why, have you left me, Hanske, my pet? Nele is naughty!”

But Nele went on with her story:

“The devil announces his approach in a voice that is like the crying of a sea-eagle. Every Saturday my mother receives him in the kitchen. And she says that his kisses are cold and that his body is like snow. One time he brought her some florins, but he took from her all the other money that she had.”

All this time Soetkin kept on praying for Katheline, with clasped hands. But Katheline spake joyfully:

“My body is mine no more. My mind is mine no more. O Hanske, my pet, take me with you yet once again, I beg you, to the Witches’ Sabbath. Only Nele will never come. Nele is naughty, I tell you.”

But Nele went on with her story:

“At dawn,” she said, “the devil would go away, and the next day my mother would relate to me a hundred strange things. But, Tyl dear, you must not look at me with those cruel eyes.... Yesterday, for instance, she told me that a splendid prince, clad in grey, Hilbert by name, was anxious to take me in marriage, and that he was coming here himself that I might see him. I told her that I wanted no husband, handsome or plain. Nevertheless, by weight of her maternal authority she persuaded me to stay up for him, for she certainly keeps all her wits about her in whatever pertains to her amours. Well, we were half undressed, ready to go to bed; and I had gone off to sleep sitting on that chair. It seems that I did not wake up when they came in, and the first thing I knew was that some one was embracing me and kissing me on the neck. And then, by the bright light of the moon, I beheld a face that shone like the crests of the waves of a July sea when there is thunder in the air, and I heard a low voice speaking to me and saying: ‘I am your husband, Hilbert. Be mine! I will make thee rich.’ And from the face of him that spake these words there came an odour like the odour of fish. Quickly I pushed that face away from me, but the man tried to take me by force, and although I had the strength of ten against him, he managed to tear my shift and scratch my face, crying out the while that if only I would give myself to him he would make me rich. ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘as rich as my mother, whom you have deprived of her lastliard!’ At that he redoubled his violence, but he could not do anything against me. And at last, since he was moredisgusting than a corpse, I scratched him in the eye with my nails so sharply that he cried out with pain, and I was able to make my escape and run up here to Soetkin.”

And all this while Katheline kept on with her “Nele is naughty. And why did you go away so soon, O Hanske, my pet?”

But Soetkin asked her where she had been while wicked men were attempting the honour of her child.

“It is Nele that is naughty,” Katheline replied. “As for me, I was in company of my black master, when the devil in grey comes to us, with his face all bloody. ‘Come away,’ he cries, ‘come away, my boy, this is an evil house; for the men, it seems, are of a mind to fight with one to the death, and the women carry knives at the tips of their fingers.’ And there and then they ran off to their horses, and disappeared in the mist. Ah, Nele, Nele! She is a naughty lass, I tell you!”

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