And the second swallow went off with a cry, just as the first had done. And Ulenspiegel saw thousands of swallows skimming over the fields. And the sun rose.
And Soetkin was buried in the cemetery of the poor.
XLIX
After the death of Soetkin Ulenspiegel grew dreamy, sorrowful, and angry, and he would wander about the fields, hearing nothing, taking what food or drink was put before him, and never choosing for himself. And oftentimes he rose from his bed in the middle of the night and went out into the country alone.
In vain did the gentle voice of Nele urge him not to despair, in vain did Katheline assure him that Soetkin was now in Paradise with Claes. To both alike Tyl answered:
“The ashes beat upon my breast.”
And he was as one mad, and Nele was sorrowful because of him.
Meanwhile, Grypstuiver the fishmonger dwelt alone in his house, like a parricide, daring only to come out in the evening. For if any man or woman passed him on the road they would shout after him and call him “murderer.” And the little children ran away when they saw him, for they had been told that he was a hangman. So he wandered about by himself, not venturing to enter any of the taverns that are in Damme, for the finger of scorn was pointed at him, and if ever he stood in the bar for a minute, they that were drinking there left the tavern.
The result was that no innkeeper desired him as a customer any more, and whenever he presented himself at their houses they would shut the door on him. The fishmonger would make a humble remonstrance, but they answered that they had a licence to sell wine certainly, but that they were not obliged to sell it against their will.