The Legend of the Glorious Adventures of Tyl Ulenspiegel in the land of Flanders - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
"Can you see clearly to the bottom of a deep well?" demanded Ulenspiegel.
In the meanwhile the followers of Simonen Bol had appeared on the scene with a large force of artillery. They shot at the s.h.i.+p, which promptly repaid them in similar coin. And the bullets broke up the ice all around. And towards evening a warm rain began to fall, and the west wind blew from the Atlantic, and the sea grew angry beneath its covering of ice, and the ice was broken into huge blocks which could be seen rising and falling to hurl themselves one against the other, not without danger to the s.h.i.+p, which, nevertheless, as dawn began to dissipate the clouds of night, opened its sails like a bird of freedom and sailed out towards the open sea.
There they were joined by the fleet of Messire de Lumey de la Marche, Admiral of Holland and Zeeland; and on that day the s.h.i.+p of Messire Tres-Long captured a vessel from Biscay that carried a cargo of mercury, gunpowder, wine, and spices. And the vessel was cleaned to its marrow, emptied of its men and its booty, even as the bone of an ox is cleaned by the teeth of a lion. And the Beggarmen took La Briele, a strong naval base, well called the Garden of Liberty.
XXVIII
It was at the beginning of May. The sky was clear, the s.h.i.+p sailed proudly on the billows, and Ulenspiegel sang this song:
The ashes beat on my heart, The murderers are come; With daggers have they struck at us, Fiercely, with fire and sword have they struck at us, They have bribed us most vilely and spied on us, Where are love and fidelity now?
In exchange for those sweetest of virtues, Betrayal and fraud have they heaped on us.
Yet may they that have murdered be murdered themselves!
Beat, beat, drum of war!
Long live the Beggarmen! Loud beat the drum!
La Briele has fallen, Flus.h.i.+ng too, the key to the Scheldt!
G.o.d is good, for Camp-veere is taken, Taken the place where the guns of all Zeeland were stored!
Now cannon-b.a.l.l.s, powder, and bullets are ours, Bullets of iron, bullets of bra.s.s.
G.o.d is with us--against us, then, who?
The drum! Beat the drum of glory and war!
Long live the Beggarmen! Beat the drum!
And again Ulenspiegel lifted up his voice and sang:
O Duke! Hark to the voice of the People, Murmuring so strong in the distance, Like the sea that swells in the season of tempest!
Enough of silver and gold and of blood, Of ruins enough! Beat the drum! Beat the drum!
The sword is drawn.
Duke! Duke of Alba, Duke of Blood, Behold the stalls and the shops, they are closed.
Brewers and bakers, grocers and butchers, Refuse one and all to do business for nothing.
When you pa.s.s who'll salute you?
None. Do you feel, then, the pestilent mist Of hate and scorn closing around you?
For the fair land of Flanders, The gay land of Brabant, Now are sad as a churchyard.
And where once in the days of our liberty Sounded the violas, screamed the fifes and the bagpipes, Now there is silence and death.
Beat the drum, the drum of war.
And now, 'stead of all the glad faces Of those that drank and made love to the sound of sweet singing, Now is naught but pale faces Of they that await in dumb resignation The blade of the sword of injustice.
Beat the drum, the drum of war.
O land of our fathers, suffering, beloved, Bow not your head 'neath the foot of the murderer!
And you, busy bees, fling yourselves now In swarms 'gainst the hornets of Spain.
And you bodies of women and girls That are buried alive Cry to Christ: Vengeance!
Wander by night in the fields, poor souls, Cry to G.o.d!
Every arm now trembles to strike.
The sword is drawn.
Duke, we will tear out your entrails, Yea, we will whip you in the face!
Beat the drum. The sword is drawn.
Beat the drum. Long live the Beggarmen!
And all the sailors and soldiers on the s.h.i.+p of Ulenspiegel, and they also that were on the s.h.i.+ps near by, took up the refrain and sang out also:
The sword is drawn. Long live the Beggarmen!
And the sound of their voices was like the growl of the thunder of deliverance.
XXIX
It was the month of January, the cruel month that freezes the calf in the womb of the cow. Snow had fallen over all the land, and then frozen hard. The boys went out to snare with bird-lime the sparrows that came to seek what nourishment they could find on the hardened snow; and whatever they took they brought back to their cottages. Against the grey, bright sky the skeletons of the trees detached themselves in motionless outline, and their branches were covered as it were with cus.h.i.+ons of snow, and the roofs of the cottages likewise, and the tops of the walls where showed the footprints of the cats who themselves went out hunting for sparrows in the snow. Far and wide the fields were hidden under that wonderful white fleece which warms the earth against the bitter cold of winter. The smoke of houses and cottages showed black as it mounted heavenwards, and over everything there brooded a great stillness.
And Katheline and Nele lived alone in their cottage, and Katheline wagged her head, crying continually:
"Hans, my heart is yours. But you must give back those seven hundred caroluses. Put out the fire! My head is burning! Alas! Where are your kisses cold as snow?" And she stood watching at the window.
Suddenly a horseman rode past at the gallop, crying:
"Here comes the bailiff, the high bailiff of Damme!"
And he went on to the Town Hall, crying out all the time, so as to gather together the burghers and the aldermen. And thereafter in the silence that ensued Nele could hear two blasts of a trumpet, and straightway all the people of Damme came running to their doors thinking that it must be no less a personage than His Royal Majesty himself whose arrival was announced by such a fanfare. And Katheline also went to her door with Nele, and in the distance she could see a troop of splendid hors.e.m.e.n riding all together, and at their head a magnificent figure in a cloak of black velvet edged with sable. And she knew him at once for the high bailiff of Damme.
Now behind him there rode a company of youthful Lords clad in long cloaks, and they rode along gaily, and their coats were adorned with b.u.t.tons and tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs of gold, and their hats with long ostrich plumes waving gaily in the wind. And they seemed one and all to be good comrades and friends of the high bailiff; and conspicuous among them was a thin-faced gentleman dressed in green velvet and gold tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, and like the others his cloak was of black velvet and his hat also was adorned with black plumes. And his nose was like a vulture's beak, his mouth compressed and thin, and his beard was red and his face pale, and very proud was his bearing.
While the company of gentlemen was pa.s.sing before the cottage, Katheline suddenly ran forward and leapt at the bridle of the pale horseman, and cried out, mad with joy as it seemed:
"Hans! My beloved, I knew you would come back! Oh, you are beautiful like this, all clad in velvet and gold, s.h.i.+ning like a sun against the snow! Have you brought me those seven hundred caroluses? Shall I hear you again crying like the sea-eagle?"
The high bailiff brought the cavalcade to a stand, and the pale gentleman said:
"What does this beggar-woman want with me?"