The Legend of Ulenspiegel Volume I Part 26

Then all the Jews, rus.h.i.+ng up, tore open the sachet and saw what it contained, and went off in high fury to the fair to find Ulenspiegel there, who forsooth had not awaited their coming.

L

A man of Damme, not being able to pay Claes for his coal, gave him his most valuable possession, which was an arbalest with twelve quarrels well pointed to serve as missiles.

In hours when work was slack Claes went shooting with the cross bow; more than one hare was killed by his prowess and turned into a frica.s.see all through harbouring an inordinate love of cabbages.

Then would Claes eat greedily, and Soetkin would say, looking out upon the empty high road:

"Thyl, my son, dost thou not smell the fragrance of the sauces? He is an-hungered without doubt at this hour." And all pensive, she would fain have kept him his share of the feast.

"If he is hungry," said Claes, "it is his own fault; let him come back, he shall fare as we do."

Claes kept pigeons; he liked, besides, to hear singing and chirruping about him, warblers, goldfinches, sparrows, and other birds that sing and chatter. And so he was swift and ready to shoot the buzzards and the royal sparhawks that were devourers of this poor folk.

Now once when he was measuring coal in the yard, Soetkin pointed out to him a great bird hovering high in air above the dove cote.

Claes seized his cross bow and said:

"May the Devil save his Hawks.h.i.+p!"

Having made ready his cross bow, he took his stand in the yard, following every movement of the bird, so as not to miss it. The light in the sky was between day and night, Claes could only discern a black speck. He loosed the quarrel and saw a stork come tumbling down into the yard.

Claes was sorely grieved thereat; but Soetkin was grieved worse, and cried out:

"Cruel, thou hast slain G.o.d's own bird!"

Then she took up the stork, and saw that she was but wounded in a wing, went to fetch a balsam, and said while she was dressing the wound:

"Stork, my dear, 'tis not clever of you that we all love, to hover in the sky like the sparhawk we all hate. And so poor folks' arrows fly to the wrong address. Art thou hurt in thy poor wing, stork, that dost submit so patiently, knowing that our hands are the loving hands of friends?"

When the stork was healed, she had everything to eat that she wanted; but she liked best the fish Claes went and caught in the ca.n.a.l for her. And every time the bird of G.o.d saw him coming, she opened her huge beak.

She followed Claes about like a dog, but stayed in the kitchen for preference, warming her belly by the fire, and knocking with her beak on Soetkin's front as she got the dinner ready, as much as to ask her:

"Is there nothing for me?"

And it was merry to behold this solemn messenger of good luck wandering about the cottage on her long stilts.

LI

Now the bad days were come again; Claes was working alone and sadly on the land, for there was not work enough for two. Soetkin stayed in the cottage alone, dressing in every possible way the beans that were their daily fare, in order to liven her man's appet.i.te. And she went singing and laughing so that he should not suffer to see her sad. The stork stayed close beside her, mounted on one leg and beak buried in her feathers.

A man on horseback stopped before the cottage; he was all arrayed in black, very lean, and had an air of profound sadness.

"Is there any one within?" he asked.

"G.o.d bless Your Melancholy," answered Soetkin; "but am I, for one, a phantom that seeing me here you should ask if there is any one within?"

"Where is your father?" asked the horseman.

"If my father's name be Claes, he is out yonder," answered Soetkin, "and you see him sowing corn."

The horseman went away, and Soetkin, too, all downcast, for she must go for the sixth time to fetch bread from the baker's without paying for it. When she came back thence with empty hands, she was astonished to see Claes coming back to their house, triumphant and lordly, upon the horse of the man in black, who was going afoot beside him and holding the rein. Claes was proudly holding in one hand against his thigh a leathern wallet that seemed well stuffed.

Dismounting, he embraced the man, banged him merrily, then shaking the bag, he cried out:

"Long live my brother Josse, the good hermit! G.o.d keep him in joy, in fat, in mirth, in health! He is the Josse of benediction, the Josse of plenty, the Josse of rich fat soups! The stork did not play us false!" And he put the bag down upon the table.

Therewith said Soetkin lamentably:

"My man, we shall not eat to-day: the baker has denied me bread."

"Bread?" said Claes, opening the bag and pouring out a stream of gold on the table, "bread? Lo, here is bread, b.u.t.ter, meat, wine, beer! Here be hams, marrow bones, pies of herons, ortolans, fat hens, as for great lords! Here is beer in hogsheads and wine by the cask! Mad and mad will be the baker that will deny us bread, we shall buy no more in his shop."

"But, my man...!" said Soetkin all a-daze.

"Now, then, hearken," said Claes, "and be light of heart. Katheline, instead of wearing out her term of banishment in the marquisate of Antwerp, went on foot, under Nele's guidance, as far as Meyborg. There Nele told my brother Josse that often we live in black want, in spite of my sore toil. According to what this good fellow messenger has told me but now"--and Claes pointed to the horseman in black--"Josse hath abandoned the Roman religion to adhere to the heresy of Luther."

The man in black replied:

"Those be the heretics that follow the cult of the Great Harlot. For the Pope hath betrayed his trust and is a seller of holy things."

"Ah!" said Soetkin, "speak not so loud, good sir, you will cause us to be burned all three."

"And so," said Claes, "Josse said to this good fellow messenger that since he was about to fight among the troops of Frederick of Saxony, and was taking him fifty well-found men at arms, he had no need, going into war, of so much money, to bequeath it in some ill hour to some rogue of a landsknecht. 'So,' said he, 'take it to my brother Claes, with my blessing, these seven hundred gold florins carolus: tell him to live in comfort and think upon his soul's salvation'."

"Aye," said the horseman, "it is time for it, for G.o.d will render unto man according to his works, and will entreat each one according as he hath deserved in his life."

"Good sir," said Claes, "it will not be forbidden me in the meantime to rejoice at this good tidings; deign to stay within here, we shall, to do it honour, eat goodly tripe, carbonadoes without stint, a neat ham which lately I beheld so plump and appetizing in the pork butcher's, that it made my teeth come out a foot long out of my jaws."

"Alas!" said the other, "madmen thus take their joy the while the eyes of G.o.d are upon their ways."

"Come now, messenger," said Claes, "Will you or will you not eat and drink with us?"

The man replied:

"It will be time for the faithful to give their souls up to earthly joys when great Babylon is fallen!"

Soetkin and Claes making the sign of the cross, he would have gone away: