The Legend of the Glorious Adventures of Tyl Ulenspiegel in the land of Flanders Part 13

To this Lamme made no answer, but exclaimed delightedly:

"She looked at me just now!"

By this time they were come to Lamme's lodging, near the Pont-des-Arches. They knocked at the door, and a one-eyed servant opened to them. Ulenspiegel saw that she was old, scraggy, lank, and fierce of aspect.

Lamme addressed her as La Sanginne, and inquired if she would take Ulenspiegel to help in the kitchen.

"I will give him a trial," she said.

"Then take him," said Lamme, "and let him also make trial of the delights of your kitchen."

La Sanginne put three black puddings on the table, a pint of ale, and a large loaf of bread. Ulenspiegel set to with a will, and Lamme began to nibble at one of the puddings.

"Know you," Lamme asked presently, "where it is that our souls abide?"

"No, Lamme," said Ulenspiegel.

"In our stomachs," Lamme told him, "so they can keep them excavated continually, and for ever renew in our bodies the impulse for life. And who are the best companions for a man? I'll tell you. The best companions for a man are all good and jolly things to eat, and wine from the Meuse to crown all!"

"True," said Ulenspiegel. "A pudding is good company to a solitary soul."

"He's still hungry," said Lamme to La Sanginne. "Give him some more." And the woman served him with a second portion of pudding--white this time.

While Ulenspiegel went on eating, Lamme grew thoughtful.

"When I die," said he, "my stomach will die with me, and down there in purgatory they will leave me to fast, and I shall have to carry my poor belly about with me, all empty and limp."

"I like the black ones best," said Ulenspiegel.

"You have eaten six already," said La Sanginne, "and you won't have any more."

"You may be sure," said Lamme, "that you will be well treated here, and you will have just the same to eat as I do."

"I shall remember this promise of yours," said Ulenspiegel. But seeing that what his friend had told him was the truth, Ulenspiegel was well content, and the puddings that he had swallowed gave him such courage that on that very day he polished the kettles and the pots and the pans till they shone like the sun. And he lived happily in that house, frequenting willingly the kitchen and the wine-cellar, and leaving the loft to the cats.

One day La Sanginne had two poulets to roast, and she asked Ulenspiegel to turn the spit while she went to market for some herbs for a seasoning. The two poulets being well roasted, Ulenspiegel took one of them and ate it. When La Sanginne returned from the market she remarked:

"There were two poulets, but now I can only see one."

"Just open your other eye," answered Ulenspiegel, "and you will see the two of them all right!"

But she was angry, and went to Lamme Goedzak to tell him what had happened. Lamme came down into the kitchen and said to Ulenspiegel:

"Why do you make fun of my serving-maid? There were certainly two poulets."

"There were," said Ulenspiegel, "but when I came you told me that I was to eat and drink just as much as you. There were two poulets. Very well. I have eaten one, and you will eat the other. My pleasure is over. Yours is still to come. Are you not happier than I?"

"Yes," said Lamme smiling, "but just you do what La Sanginne tells you, and you'll find your work halved."

"I will be careful to do as you say," said Ulenspiegel.

So every time that La Sanginne told him to do anything he did but the half of it. If she asked him to go and draw two pails of water he would only bring back one; and if she told him to go and fill a pot of ale at the cask, he would pour the half of it down his throat on the way--and so on and so on.

At last La Sanginne grew tired of these goings on, and she told Lamme that either this good-for-nothing fellow must leave the house or she must leave herself.

Lamme descended on Ulenspiegel and told him:

"You'll have to go, my son, notwithstanding that you have looked so much better in health since you have been here. Listen to that c.o.c.k crowing. And it's two o'clock of the afternoon! That means rain. I am sorry to have to put you out of doors in bad weather. But there, my son, you know that La Sanginne is the guardian angel of my life, with her lovely frica.s.sees. If she were to leave me I might die a speedy death. I cannot risk it. Go then, my boy, and G.o.d be with you, and here are three florins and this string of saveloys to liven your journey."

And Ulenspiegel departed, crestfallen and with many regrets for Lamme and his kitchen.

XXVII

There was a rumour abroad that the Emperor Charles was going to annul the right of the monks to inherit the estates of those who happened to die in their convents, a thing which was very displeasing to the Pope.

One day when Ulenspiegel was come to fish from the banks of the river Meuse, he was thinking to himself that by the above action the Emperor would stand to profit both ways, since he would inherit the said estates, while the family of the deceased would inherit nothing at all. Pondering these thoughts, he carefully baited his hook, and then sat down by the river-side. And he began to nibble at a piece of stale brown bread, regretting the while that he had no good Romagna wine wherewith to wash it down. Still, he thought, one cannot always have everything just as one would like. And all the time he kept on throwing little pieces of his bread into the water, saying to himself that no man deserves a meal who will not share it with his neighbours.

Now it was that a gudgeon came upon the scene, attracted in the first place by the odour of bread-crumbs; and he licked up the bread with his lips and opened his mouth for more, thinking no doubt in his innocence that the bread would fall into his gullet of itself. But while gazing thus in the air the gudgeon was suddenly swallowed up by a treacherous pike who had hurled himself upon him like a flash of lightning.

Now the pike played a similar trick upon a carp who was catching flies on the top of the water without any fear of danger. And after this good meal the pike stayed motionless below the surface of the water, disdainful of the smaller fry, who, indeed, were only too glad to swim away from him of their own accord and as fast as ever they could. But while the pike was taking his ease in this manner, a second pike came up; and he was a hungry pike, and his mouth was open wide, for as yet he had not breakfasted. With a bound the new arrival threw himself upon his brother, and a furious combat ensued. They lashed at one another with their fins, the water was red with their blood. The pike that had eaten defended himself but feebly against the a.s.saults of the hungry one; nevertheless, backing a little, he took courage again and threw himself like a bullet against his adversary. The latter awaited this new attack with open jaws, which did not close until more than half of his a.s.sailant's head had disappeared between them. Now they tried to free themselves, but could not because of the hooked teeth of the one that had become embedded in the flesh of the other. And so they battled against each other in despair. Nor did they notice, interlocked as they were, the strong fish-hook at the end of a silken cord, which rose towards them from the depths of the water. In another moment it had embedded itself in the body of the pike that had dined, and the two struggling fish found themselves drawn out of the water and laid together on the gra.s.s without the least deference.

As he killed them Ulenspiegel said:

"Ha ha, my little pikes, I will call you the Pope and the Emperor, that prey ever one upon the other; but I, forsooth, am the Common Man that shall catch you on his hook, in G.o.d's good time, and make an end of your battles!"

XXVIII

In the meantime Nele was taking care of Katheline, who was still out of her mind and who called continually upon Hanske, her ice-cold lover. But sometimes Nele would leave her mother safely guarded in the house of some kindly neighbour, and herself would wander far and wide and all alone, even unto Antwerp, searching ever, among the ships on the river, or along the dusty roads, for Ulenspiegel.

And at home, also, in the house of Claes, it was evil days. Claes worked sadly on his land alone, for there was not enough work for two. And Soetkin stayed in the cottage by herself, cooking the beans which formed their daily fare in a hundred different ways, so that she might have something to enliven her husband's appet.i.te. And she sang and laughed all the time, so that he might not be grieved by seeing her unhappy.

One day a man on horseback drew up in front of the cottage. He was dressed all in black, he was very thin, and very sad of countenance.

"Is any one within?" he asked.

"G.o.d bless your sadness," answered Soetkin, "but am I a phantom, that seeing me here you must yet inquire if there is any one within?"