The Legend of Ulenspiegel. Volume 2 of 2

“Thou wast pure and faithful, thou sayest; but, sweet, my darling, beloved Calleken, I lived but to find thee, and lo, now, thanks to this monk, there will be poison in all our happiness, poison of jealousy … as soon as I am sad or but only tired, I shall see thee naked, submitting thy lovely body to that infamous flagellation. The spring time of our loves was mine, but the summer was for him; the autumn will be gray, soon will come the winter to bury my faithful love.”

“Thou art weeping?” said she.

“Aye,” quoth he, “what is past can never come again.”

Then Nele said:

“If Calleken was faithful, she ought to leave thee alone for thy ill words.”

“He knoweth not how I love him,” said Calleken.

“Dost thou say true?” cried Lamme; “come, darling; come, my wife; there is no longer gray autumn nor winter that diggeth graves.”

And he seemed cheerful, and they came to the ship.

Ulenspiegel gave Lamme the keys of the cage, and he opened it; he tried to pull the monk out on the deck by the ear, but he could not; he tried to fetch him out sideways, he could not do that, either.

“We must break all; the capon is fattened,” said he.

The monk then came forth, rolling about big daunted eyes, holding his paunch with both hands, and fell down on his seat because of a great wave that passed beneath the ship.

And Lamme, speaking to the monk:

“Wilt thou still say, ‘big man’? Thou art bigger than I. Who made thee seven meals a day? I. Whence cometh it, bawler, that now thou art quieter, milder towards the poor Beggars?”

And continuing further:

“If thou dost stay another year encaged, thou wilt not be able to come out again: thy cheeks quiver like pork jelly when thou dost move: thou criest no longer already; soon thou wilt not be able to breathe.”

“Hold thy peace, big man,” said the monk.

“Big man,” said Lamme, becoming furious; “I am Lamme Goedzak, thou art Broer Dikzak, Vetzak, Leugenzak, Slokkenzak, Wulpszak, the friar big sack, grease sack, lying sack, cram sack, lust sack: thou hast four fingers deep of fat under thy skin, thy eyes can be seen no longer: Ulenspiegel and I would both lodge comfortably within the cathedral of thy belly! Thou didst call me big man; wilt thou have a mirror to study thy Bellyness? ’Tis I that fed thee, thou monument of flesh and bone. I have sworn that thou wouldst spit grease, sweat grease, and leave behind thee spots of grease like a candle melting in the sun. They say that apoplexy cometh with the seventh chin; thou hast five and a half by now.”

Then to the Beggars:

“Look at this lecher! ’tis Broer Cornelis Adriaensen Rascalsen, of Bruges: there he preached the new modesty. His grease is his punishment; his grease is my work. Hear now, all ye sailors and soldiers: I am about to leave you, to leave thee, thee, Ulenspiegel, to leave thee, too, thee, little Nele, to go to Flushing where I have property, to live there with my poor wife that I have found again. Of yore ye took an oath to grant me all that I might ask of you…”

“On the word of the Beggars,” said they.

“Then,” said Lamme, “look on this lecher, this Broer Adriaensen Rascalsen of Bruges; I swore to make him die of fatness like a hog; construct a wider cage, force him to take twelve meals a day instead of seven; give him a rich and sugared diet: he is like an ox already; see that he be like an elephant, and ye will soon see him fill the cage.”

“We shall fatten him,” said they.

“And now,” went on Lamme, speaking to the monk, “I bid thee also adieu, rascal, thee whom I cause to be fed monkishly instead of having thee hanged: grow in grease and in apoplexy.”

Then taking his wife Calleken in his arms:

“Look, growl or bellow, I take her from thee; thou shalt whip her never more.”

But the monk, falling in a fury and speaking to Calleken:

“Thou art going away then, carnal woman, to the bed of lust! Aye, thou goest without pity for the poor martyr for the word of God, that taught thee the holy, sweet, celestial discipline. Be accursed! May no priest give thee absolution; may earth be burning underneath thy feet; may sugar be salt to thee; may beef be as dead dog to thee; may thy bread be ashes; may the sun be ice to thee, and the snow hell fire; may thy child-bearing be accursed; may thy children be detestable; may they have the bodies of apes, pigs’ heads greater than their bellies; mayst thou suffer, weep, moan in this world and in the other, in the hell that awaits thee, the hell of sulphur and bitumen kindled for females such as thou art. Thou didst refuse my fatherly love: be thrice accursed by the Blessed Trinity, seven times accursed by the candlesticks of the Ark; may confession be to thee damnation; may the Host to thee be mortal poison, and may every paving stone in the church rise up to crush thee and say to thee: ‘This woman is the fornicator, this woman is accursed, this woman is damned’.”

And Lamme, rejoicing, jumping for joy, said:

“She was faithful; he said it, the monk: hurrah for Calleken!”

But she, weeping and trembling:

“Remove it,” she said, “my man, remove this curse from over me. I see hell! Remove the curse!”

“Take off the curse,” said Lamme.

“I will not, big man,” rejoined the monk.

And the woman remained all pale and swooning, and on her knees with hands folded she besought Broer Adriaensen.

And Lamme said to the monk:

“Take off thy curse, else thou shalt hang, and if the rope breaks because of thy weight, thou shalt be hanged again and again until death ensues.”

“Hanged and hanged again,” said the Beggars.

“Then,” said the monk to Calleken, “go, wanton, go with this big man; go, I lift my curse from thee, but God and all the saints will have their eyes upon thee; go with this big man, go.”

And he held his peace, sweating and puffing.

Suddenly Lamme cried out:

“He puffs, he puffs! I see the sixth chin; at the seventh ’tis apoplexy! And now,” said he to the Beggars:

“I commend you to God, thou Ulenspiegel; to God, you all my good friends, to God, thou Nele; to God the holy inspirer of liberty: I can do no more for her cause.”

Then having given all and taken from all the kiss of parting, he said to his wife Calleken:

“Come, it is the hour for lawful loves.”

While the boat was slipping over the water, carrying off Lamme and his beloved, he in the stern, soldiers, sailors, and cabin boys all called out, waving their caps: “Adieu, brother; adieu, Lamme; adieu, brother, brother and friend.”

And Nele said to Ulenspiegel, taking a tear from out the corner of his eye with her dainty finger:

“Thou art sad, my beloved?”

“He was a good fellow,” said he.

“Ah!” said she, “this war will never end; shall we be forced to live forever in blood and in tears?”

“Let us seek out the Seven,” said Ulenspiegel: “it draws nigh, the hour of deliverance.”