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The Legend of the Glorious Adventures of Tyl Ulenspiegel in the land of Flanders Part 24

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"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 embarra.s.sed 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 their property--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 the same 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 the strappado, 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 a.s.s 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 beautiful tree 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 gla.s.s 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 h.e.l.l, 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 cl.u.s.ters of grapes. And there the angels washed him clean, and he became all beautiful and young, and they gave him rystpap to drink in silver ladles. And then the heavens closed."

"Claes is in glory," said the widow.

"His ashes beat against my heart," said Ulenspiegel.

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 s.h.i.+ning face!"

"Yes," cried Ulenspiegel, "a very frica.s.see 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 G.o.d for the poor afflicted one, whereupon Katheline in her madness ordered Ulenspiegel go and fetch four quarts of dobbel kuyt what time she made ready some heete-koeken, as pancakes are called in Flanders.

Soetkin asked her why she wished to make festival on a Sat.u.r.day like the Jews.

"Because the b.u.t.ter 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.

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