The Legend of Ulenspiegel Volume I Part 57

"Full?" said she, "not yet, Traveller in a hurry."

"Wait," repeated Ulenspiegel. "Must I have no teeth left to eat you raw with, darling? You do not answer, you smile with your eyes clear brown and your lips red as cherries."

The girl, looking craftily at him, replied:

"Why dost thou love me so quickly? What is thy trade? Art thou beggar, art thou rich?"

"A beggar," said he, "am I, and rich at the same time, if you give me your darling self."

She replied:

"That is not what I want to know. Dost thou go to ma.s.s? Art thou a good Christian? Where dost thou dwell? Wouldst thou dare to say that thou art a Beggar, a true blue Beggar resisting the proclamations and the Inquisition?"

The ashes of Claes beat upon Ulenspiegel's breast.

"I am a Beggar," said he, "I would fain see dead and eaten by worms the oppressors of the Low Countries. Thou lookest on me confounded and astonied. This fire of love that burns for thee, darling, is the fire of youth. G.o.d lighted it; it flames as the sun s.h.i.+nes, until it dieth down. But the fire of vengeance that broodeth in my heart, G.o.d lit that as well. It will be the sword, the fire, the rope, conflagration, devastation, war, and ruin to the murderers."

"Thou art goodly," said she, sadly, kissing him on both cheeks, "but hold thy peace."

"Why dost thou weep?" answered he.

"You must always," she said, "watch here and elsewhere wherever you are."

"Have these walls ears?" asked Ulenspiegel.

"No ears but mine," said she.

"Carven by love, I will stop them with a kiss."

"Mad lover, listen to me when I speak to you."

"Why? what have you to say to me?"

"Listen to me," she said, impatient. "Here comes my mother.... Hold your tongue, hold your peace above all things before her...."

The old Sapermillemente woman came in. Ulenspiegel studied her.

"Muzzle full of holes like a skimming ladle," said he to himself, "eyes with a hard false look, mouth that would laugh and grimace, you make me curious."

"G.o.d be with you, Messire," said the old woman, "be with you without ceasing. I have received moneys, Daughter, good moneys from Messire d'Egmont when I took him his cloak on which I had embroidered the fool's bauble. Yes, Messire, the fool's bauble against the Red Dog."

"The Cardinal de Granvelle?" asked Ulenspiegel.

"Aye," said she, "against the Red Dog. It is said that he denounces their doings to the King; they would fain bring him to death. They are right, are they not?"

Ulenspiegel answered not a word.

"You have not seen them in the streets clad in a gray doublet and opperst-kleed, gray as the common folk wear them, and the long hanging sleeves and their monks' hoods and on all the opperst-kleederen the fool's bauble embroidered. I made at least twenty-seven and my daughter fifteen. That incensed the Red Dog to see these baubles."

Then speaking in Ulenspiegel's ear:

"I know that the lords have decided to replace the bauble by a sheaf of corn in sign of unity. Aye, aye, they mean to struggle against the king and the Inquisition. It is well done of them, is it not, Messire?"

Ulenspiegel made no answer.

"The stranger lord is melancholy," said the old woman; "he has his mouth tight shut all of a sudden."

Ulenspiegel said not a word and went out.

Presently he went into a gaffhouse so as not to forget to drink. The gaff was full of drinkers speaking imprudently of the king, of the detested proclamations, of the Inquisition and of the Red Dog who must be forced to leave the country. He saw the old woman, all in rags, and seeming to doze beside a pint of brandy. She remained like that for a long time; then he saw her taking a little platter out of her pocket, asking money, especially from those who spoke the most incautiously.

And the men gave her florins, deniers, and patards, and without stinginess.

Ulenspiegel, hoping to learn from the girl what the old Sapermillemente woman did not say to him, pa.s.sed before the house again; he saw the girl who was not crying out her rhyme any more, but smiled at him and winked her eye, a sweet promise.

All on a sudden the old woman came back after him.

Ulenspiegel, angry to see her, ran like a stag into the street crying out: "'T brandt! 't brandt! Fire! Fire!" till he came before the house of the baker Jacob Pietersen. The front, glazed in the German fas.h.i.+on, was flaming red to the sunset. A thick smoke, the smoke of f.a.ggots turning to red coals in the furnace, was pouring out of the bakehouse chimney. Ulenspiegel never ceased to cry as he ran: "'T brandt, 't brandt," and pointed out Jacob Pietersen's house. The crowd, gathering in front of it, saw the red windows, the thick smoke, and cried like Ulenspiegel: "'T brandt, 't brandt, it burns! it burns!" The watchman on Notre Dame de la Chapelle blew his trumpet while the beadle rang the bell called Wacharm in full peal. And lads and la.s.ses ran up in swarms, singing and whistling.

The bell and the trumpet still sounding, the old Sapermillemente woman picked up her heels and went off.

Ulenspiegel was watching her. When she was far away, he came into the house.

"You here!" said the girl; "is there not a fire then over yonder?"

"Yonder? No," replied Ulenspiegel.

"But that bell that is ringing so lamentably?"

"It knows not what it doth," answered Ulenspiegel.

"And that dolorous trumpet and all these folk running?"

"Infinite is the tale of fools."

"What is burning then?" said she.

"Thy eyes and my flaming heart," answered Ulenspiegel.

And he leaped to her mouth.

"You eat me," she said.

"I like cherries," said he.

She looked at him, smiling and distressed. Suddenly bursting into tears:

"Come back here no more," she said. "You are a Beggar, a foe to the Pope, do not come back...."