But the Emperor: “If you have been cruel enough to do such a deed, at least be brave enough to own up to it.”
The child made no answer.
His Majesty seized the orange from the child’s hands, threw it to the ground, and was about to beat his son, who was shaking with terror, when the Archbishop restrained him, whispering in his ear:
“The day will surely come when His Highness shall prove a mighty burner of heretics.” The Emperor smiled, and the two of them went away, leaving Philip alone with the monkey.
But others there were, not monkeys, that were destined to meet their death in the flames....
XV
November was come, the month of hail-storms, when sufferers from cold in the head abandon themselves freely to their concerts of coughing and spitting. This also is the month when the turnip-fields are filled with gangs of youths that there disport themselves and steal whatever they can, to the mighty wrath of the peasants, who try in vain to catch them, chasing after them with sticks and pitchforks.
Well, on an evening when Ulenspiegel was returning home from one of these raids, he heard close by, in a corner of the hedgerow, a sound as of groaning. He leant down, and beheld a dog lying stretched out on the stones.
“Hallo!” he cried. “Poor little beast! What are you doing out here so late at night?”