The Legend of the Glorious Adventures of Tyl Ulenspiegel in the land of Flanders and elsewhere

by Charles de Coster

And thus he answered her:

“If you are hungry, eat; if you are thirsty, drink; if you are afraid, come near to me. I am your mate.”

“I have no hunger, no thirst, but for thee alone,” she said.

Then the Lord of the Spring called out yet seven times and again. Most tremendous was his voice, and there was a mighty din of thunder and lightning, and behind him there came into being a kind of dais all made of suns and stars. And the lord and his lady sat them down on two thrones.

Then these twain, their countenances remaining still and motionless, and without the least tremor to spoil the calmness of their majesty and their power, both together cried aloud. And at that sound there was a movement in the earth like that of a countless multitude of worms, and not in the earth only but in the hard stone and in the ice-floes also. And Nele and Ulenspiegel heard a sound like that which might be made by gigantic birds trying to crack with their beaks the great imprisoning egg-shells wherein they were concealed. And amid this great commotion of the earth, heaving and subsiding like the waves of the sea, there appeared forms like those of eggs.

And suddenly, on all sides, trees emerged, their bare branches all entangled together, and their stems shaking and tottering together like drunken men, which began to separate themselves the one from the other, leaving empty spaces of earth between. And now from the ever restless soil there emerged the Spirits of Earth, and from the depths of the forest the Spirits of the Woods, and from the neighbouring sea, now cleared of ice, the Spirits of the Water.

And Nele and Ulenspiegel could discern the guardian spirits of all these wonders. Dwarfs there were, men of the woods that lived like trees and carried, instead of mouths and stomachs, little clusters of roots sprouting from below the face to the end that they might suck their nourishment from the bosom of mother earth. Lords of the mines there were as well, they that know no speech, and are destitute of heart or entrails, and move about like glittering automatons. There came also the dwarfs of flesh and bone, little fellows with lizards’ tails and the heads of toads, and a lantern on their head for head-gear. These are they that leap by night upon the shoulder of the drunken wayfarer or the tired traveller, and then jump down again, waving their lanterns the while so as to lead into marsh or ditch that hapless wight who thinks the light he sees is a candle set to beacon his way home.

There came too the Girl-Flower spirits, blossoms they of womanly health and strength. Naked they were and unashamed, glorying in their beauty, and having nothing to cover them but their hair. The eyes of these maids shone liquid like mother-of-pearl seen through water; the flesh of their bodies was firm, white, and glittering in the sunshine; and from half-opened ruby lips their breath wafted down more balmy than jasmine.

These are the maids that wander at eventide in the parks or gardens of the world, or belike in the shady paths of some woodland glade. Amorous they are, searching ever for some soul of man to possess it for themselves. And whenever some mortal lad and lass come walking their way, they try to kill the girl, but failing in this they breathe a breath of love upon the doubting damsel, so that she fears no longer to abandon herself to the delights of love, but gives herself to her lover. For then the Girl-Flower is permitted to take her share of the kisses.

Besides all this, Nele and Ulenspiegel could see descending now far from heaven the Guardian Spirits of the Stars, the Spirits of the Winds, of the Breezes, and of the Rain: young, winged men that fertilize the earth. And there appeared from every point in the heavens the soul-birds, the dear swallows. At their coming the light itself seemed to grow brighter, and the girl-flowers, the lords of the rocks, the princes of the mines, the men of the woods, the spirits of water, fire, and earth, all cried out with one voice, “O Light, O sap of Spring, Glory to the Spirit of Spring!” And though the sound of all this shouting was more powerful than the noise of a raging sea, or of a thunder-storm, or of a hurricane let loose, yet it seemed most solemn music to the ears of Nele and Ulenspiegel, who stood, motionless and dumb, curled up behind the gnarled and wrinkled stem of a mighty oak.