The Legend of Ulenspiegel Volume Ii Part 51

"Who art thou?" asked Messire de Lumey.

"Monseigneur," answered Ulenspiegel, "Fleming am I from the goodly land of Flanders, clown, n.o.bleman, all at once, and through the world in this wise I go wandering, praising things good and lovely, and mocking folly without stint. And I will praise you if you keep to the promise made by the captain: word of a soldier, word of gold."

But the rascally Beggars that were upon the s.h.i.+p:

"Monseigneur," said they, "that fellow is a traitor: he hath promised to save them; he hath given them bread, ham, sausages, and beer, and to us nothing."

Messire de Lumey said then to Ulenspiegel:

"Fleming gadabout and monk feeder, thou shalt be hanged with them."

"I have no fear," answered Ulenspiegel, "word of a soldier, word of gold."

"Thou carriest thy comb high," said de Lumey.

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

The monks were brought into a barn, and Ulenspiegel with them: there they would fain have converted him by theological disputations; but he fell asleep listening to them.

Messire de Lumey being at table, full of wine and meat, a messenger arrived from Gorc.u.m, from Captain Marin, with a copy of letters from the Silent, Prince of Orange, "commanding all governors of cities and other places to hold the ecclesiastics in like safeguard, safety, and privilege as the rest of the people."

The messenger asked to be brought before de Lumey to give the copy of the letters into his own hands.

"Where is the original?" de Lumey asked him.

"With my master," said the messenger.

"And the clown sends me the copy!" said de Lumey. "Where is thy pa.s.sport?"

"Here it is, Monseigneur," said the messenger.

Messire de Lumey read it in a loud voice:

"Monseigneur and master Marin Brandt enjoins upon the ministers, governors, and officers of the republic that they suffer to pa.s.s safely," etc.

De Lumey, striking his fist on the table and tearing up the pa.s.sport:

"G.o.d's blood!" said he, "what is he meddling with, this Marin, this trash, who had not, before the taking of Briele, the backbone of a red herring to put between his teeth? He dubs himself monseigneur and master, and sends me his order. He enjoins and ordains! Tell thy master that since he is so much captain and monseigneur, and so much bidding and forbidding, the monks shall be hanged high and short at once, and thou with them if thou dost not take thyself off."

And fetching him a kick, he sent him out of the chamber.

"Give me to drink," he cried. "Have you seen the insolence of this Marin? I could spit out my breakfast with rage. Let them hang the monks immediately in their barn, and bring me their Flemish conductor, after he has seen their execution. We shall see if he will dare to tell me I have done wrong. G.o.d's blood! what are these jugs and gla.s.ses wanted here for still?"

And he broke with a great cras.h.i.+ng the cups and dishes, and no man dared speak to him. The servants would have picked up the pieces; he did not allow them, and drinking out of the flasks immoderately, he became more and more angry, striding about and crus.h.i.+ng the bits and trampling on them furiously.

Ulenspiegel was brought before him.

"Well!" said he, "dost thou bring tidings of thy friends the monks?"

"They are hanged," said Ulenspiegel; "and a cowardly executioner, killing them for hire, opened the belly and sides of one of them after death, like a disembowelled pig, to sell the fat to an apothecary. Word of a soldier is no longer word of gold."

De Lumey, trampling among the broken crockery:

"Thou bravest me," said he, "four-foot rascal, but thou, too, shalt be hanged, not in a barn, but ignominiously on the open square, in the eyes of everybody."

"Shame upon you," said Ulenspiegel, "shame upon us: word of a soldier no longer word of gold."

"Wilt thou hold thy tongue, mule!" said Messire de Lumey.

"Shame upon thee," said Ulenspiegel; "word of a soldier is no more word of gold. Punish rather the rascally vendors of human fat."

Then Messire de Lumey, rus.h.i.+ng on him, raised his hand to strike him.

"Strike," said Ulenspiegel; "I am thy prisoner, but I have no fear of thee; word of a soldier is no more word of gold."

Messire de Lumey then drew his sword and would certainly have slain Ulenspiegel if Messire de Tres-Long, holding back his arm, had not said:

"Have pity! he is brave and valiant; he hath committed no crime!"

De Lumey, then controlling himself:

"Let him ask pardon," said he.

But Ulenspiegel, remaining upright:

"I will not," said he.

"Let him say at least that I was not wrong," cried de Lumey, becoming furious.

Ulenspiegel made answer:

"I do not lick the boots of lords: word of a soldier is no more word of gold."

"Let them erect the gallows," said de Lumey, "and let them bring him to it; that will be a hempen word for him."

"Aye," said Ulenspiegel, "and I shall cry out in the presence of all the people: 'Word of a soldier is no more word of gold!'"

The gallows was set up on the great marketplace. The news ran swiftly about the town that they were about to hang Ulenspiegel, the valiant Beggar. And the people were moved with pity and compa.s.sion. And they ran together in a crowd to the great market; Messire de Lumey came thither also on horseback, wis.h.i.+ng himself to give the signal for the execution.

He looked with no mildness upon Ulenspiegel on the ladder, arrayed for death, in his s.h.i.+rt, his arms tied to his body, his hands folded, the rope about his neck, and the executioner ready to do his work.

Tres-Long said to him:

"Monseigneur, pardon him; he is no traitor, and no one ever saw a man hanged because he was sincere and merciful."

And the men and women of the people, hearing Tres-Long speak, cried: "Pity, Monseigneur, grace and pity for Ulenspiegel."

"That mule-headed fellow braved me," said de Lumey: "let him repent and say I did right."