“Do you see that woman?” he said.
“I see her,” said Lamme.
“Do you recognize her?”
“Heavens!” cried Lamme, “can it be my wife? In truth she is dressed like no common country wench!”
“Can you still be doubtful, you old mole?”
“But supposing it were not her after all?” said Lamme.
“You would be none the worse off,” Ulenspiegel told him, “for over there to the left, towards the north, I know a tavern that sells most excellent bruinbier. We will join you there, and here meanwhile is some salt ham that will provide an excellent relish to your thirst.”
So Lamme got down from the cart, and made off as fast as his legs would carry him in the direction of the woman in the field.
Ulenspiegel said to Nele: “Why will you not come near me?”
Then he helped her to climb up beside him on to the cart, and made her sit close by his side. He removed her apron from her head and the cloak from her shoulders, and then when he had kissed her a hundred times at least, he asked her: