XXIV
Warm was the air, and not a breath of wind was wafted from the calm sea. The trees on the Damme canal were motionless, and the grasshoppers were busy in the meadows, while from many a church and abbey the men came into the fields to fetch that “thirteenth part of the harvest” which was claimed by the curés and the abbés who lived round about. From the depths of a blue and blazing sky the sun poured down his heat, and Nature slept beneath that radiance like some beautiful girl that has swooned away beneath the caresses of her lover.
From far off, Lamme and Ulenspiegel descried the high, square, massive tower of Notre Dame, and Lamme said:
“There, my son, is the home both of your loves and of your sorrows.” But Ulenspiegel made no answer.
“In a little while,” continued Lamme, “I shall be seeing my old home, and perhaps my wife!” But Ulenspiegel did not answer.
“You man of wood,” said Lamme, “you heart of stone, will nothing move you—neither the near approach to the place where you passed your childhood, nor yet the dear memory of poor Claes and Soetkin, the two martyrs? What! You are not sad, neither are you merry; who can it be that has thus hardened your heart? Look at me, how anxious and uneasy I am, and how my belly heaves with nervousness; look at me I say!”
But Lamme looked at Ulenspiegel and saw that his face was drawn and pale, and his lips were trembling with tears, and he said not a word. And now Lamme also held his peace.
They walked along in this way without speaking till they came to Damme, which they entered by the rue Héron; and they saw no one about because of the heat. Only the dogs lay on their sides on the doorsteps of many a house, gasping, with their tongues out, while Lamme and Ulenspiegel passed right in front of the Town Hall where Claes had been burnt to death; and here the lips of Ulenspiegel trembled the more, and his tears dried up. And at last they were come to the house of Claes himself, which was now occupied by a master charcoal-burner. Ulenspiegel entered in and said:
“Do you recognize me? I would wish to rest here a while.”
The master charcoal-burner answered:
“I recognize you. You are the son of the victim. You are free in this house to go wheresoever you will.”
Ulenspiegel went into the kitchen, and then upstairs into the room of Claes and Soetkin, and there he shed many tears.
When he had come down again, the master charcoal-burner said to him: “Here is bread, cheese, and beer. If you are hungry, eat. If you are thirsty, drink.”
But Ulenspiegel made a gesture to the effect that he was neither hungry nor thirsty, and he left the house and came with Lamme to Katheline’s cottage, and there they tethered their donkeys and straightway entered in. It was the hour of the midday meal. On the table was a dish of broad beans in their pods together with some white beans. Katheline was busy eating, while Nele was standing by her ready to pour into Katheline’s plate some vinegar sauce which she had just taken off the fire. When Ulenspiegel came into the room Nele was so startled that she put the sauce, and the pot and all, into Katheline’s platter. And Katheline kept on wagging her head, and picking out the broad beans with her spoon from the trencher, striking her forehead the while and crying ever like one mad:
“Put out the fire! My head is burning!”
And the smell of the vinegar made Lamme feel hungry. But Ulenspiegel stood still where he was, gazing at Nele and smiling for love of her despite his great sorrow.
And Nele, without a word of greeting, flung her arms round his neck. And she also seemed like one bereft of sense. For she cried and laughed, and blushing as she was with her great and sweet happiness, she could only say: “Tyl! Tyl!”
Ulenspiegel, happy now in his turn, gazed into her eyes. Then she let go of him and stepped back a pace or two, gazed at him joyfully in her turn, and then threw herself on him again, clasping her arms round his neck, and so many times and again. And he suffered her gladly, powerless to tear himself away from her, till at last she fell into a chair, tired out and like one bereft of her senses, and she said without shame:
“Tyl! Tyl, my beloved! Here you are come back to me again!”
Lamme meanwhile was standing at the door; but when Nele had recovered herself a little, she pointed to him, saying:
“Where have I seen this fat man?”
“He is my friend,” Ulenspiegel told her. “He goes seeking his wife in my company.”
“I know you,” said Nele to Lamme. “You used to live in the rue Héron. You are seeking for your wife? Well, I have seen her. She is living at Bruges in all piety and devotion, and when I asked her why she had left her husband so unkindly, she answered that it was by the Holy Will of God and at the command of Holy Penance, and that she could never live with her husband again.”
At these words Lamme was sad, but his eyes wandered to the beans and vinegar. And outside the larks sang as they flew upwards into the sky, and all Nature swooned away under the caress of her Lord the Sun. And Katheline kept stirring with her spoon that pot of beans and sauce.