I
At Damme, in Flanders, when the May hawthorn was coming into flower, Ulenspiegel was born, the son of Claes.
When she had wrapped him in warm swaddling-clothes, Katheline, the midwife, made a careful examination of the infant’s head, and found a piece of skin hanging therefrom.
“Born with a caul!” she cried out joyfully. “Born under a lucky star!” But a moment later, noticing a small black mole on the baby’s shoulder, she fell into lamentation.
“Alas!” she wept, “it is the black finger-print of the devil!”
“Monsieur Satan,” said Claes, “must have risen early this morning, if already he has found time to set his sign upon my son!”
“Be sure, he never went to bed,” answered Katheline. “Here is Chanticleer only just awakening the hens!”
And so saying she went out of the room, leaving the baby in the arms of Claes.
At Damme when the Hawthorn was in flower
Then it was that the dawn came bursting through the clouds of night, and the swallows skimmed chirruping over the fields, while the sun began to show his dazzling face on the horizon. Claes opened the window and thus addressed himself to Ulenspiegel.
“O babe born with a caul, behold! Here is my Lord the Sun who comes to make his salutation to the land of Flanders. Gaze on Him whenever you can; and if ever in after years you come to be in any doubt or difficulty, not knowing what is right to do, ask counsel of Him. He is bright and He is warm. Be sincere as that brightness, and virtuous as that warmth.”
“Claes, my good man,” said Soetkin, “you are preaching to the deaf. Come, drink, son of mine.”
And so saying, the mother offered to her new-born babe a draught from nature’s fountain.