“Alas!” he cried, “I was born under an evil star. For no sooner had I run and caught up with this woman than I found that she was not a woman at all, but an old hag rather, as indeed I could see at once by her face—forty-five years old at the very least! And to judge by her head-gear she had never been married. For all that, she inquired of me in a harsh voice what I was doing there, carrying my great fat belly about in the clover! I told her as politely as I could that I was looking for my wife who had lately left me, and that I had run after her by mistake.
“At that the old girl told me that the only thing for me to do was to return at once whence I came, and that if my wife had left me she had indeed done well, seeing that all men are thieves and rascals, heretics, unfaithful, poisoners, and deceivers of women; and she threatened to set her dog on me if I did not make off at once. Which in truth I did incontinently, for that I perceived a great mastiff lying there growling at her feet. When, therefore, I had reached the boundary of the field, I sat me down to rest myself and to eat a bit of ham. And I was between two clover-fields. Suddenly I heard a great noise just behind me, and turning round I saw the old girl’s mastiff, no longer now in menacing mood but wagging his tail as sweetly as possible and as much as to say that he was hungry and would like a piece of my ham. I was for throwing him some small bits when all at once his mistress appeared on the scene, and shouted out fiercely:
“‘Seize the man! Seize him with your fangs, my son!’
“I started to run away, the great mastiff hanging on to me by my breeks. And now he had bitten off a piece of them, together with a gobbet of my own flesh. The pain made me angry and I turned and gave him such a smart stroke with my stick upon his front paws that I must have broken one of them at least. At that he fell down, crying out in his dog language: ‘Mercy! Mercy!’ the which I granted him. Meanwhile his mistress, finding no stones to throw at me, had begun to threaten me with pieces of earth and bits of grass. So I made good my retreat. And is it not a sorry thing, and a thing most unjust and most cruel, that because a girl has not been good-looking enough to find some one to marry her, she must needs go and take her revenge on a poor innocent like me?”
IV
Some while after these happenings, when Nele had returned to her home with Katheline, Lamme and Ulenspiegel came to Bruges. They were at the place called Minne-Water, the Lake of Love—though the learned folk would have it to be derived from Minre-Water, that is, the Water belonging to the order of monks who are called Minims. Be this as it may, here on the bank of the lake, Lamme and Ulenspiegel sat themselves down, watching those that passed in front of them under the trees. The green branches hung over the pathway like a vault of foliage, and below there sauntered both men and women, youths and maids, clasping each other’s hands, with flowers on their heads, walking so close together and gazing so tenderly into each other’s eyes that they seemed to see nothing else in all the world save themselves alone.
As he watched them, the thoughts of Ulenspiegel were far away with Nele, and his thoughts were sad thoughts. Yet his words were of another colour, bidding Lamme come off with him to the tavern for a drink. But Lamme paid no attention to what Tyl was saying, for he himself was absorbed no less by the sight of those loving pairs.
“In the old days,” he said, “we too, my wife and I, were wont to go a-courting, while others, just as we are now, would watch us, alone and companionless by the lake-side.”
“Come and have a drink!” said Ulenspiegel, “Belike we will find the Seven at the bottom of a pint of beer.”