“I also am thirsty and sleepy. Why do you give her to drink? Why do you let her fall asleep?”
“She is a woman,” answered the bailiff. “And she is weak and out of her mind.”
“Her madness is only pretence,” said Joos Damman. “She is a witch. I want to drink, and I want to sleep.”
And he closed his eyes, but his tormentors struck him in the face.
“Give me a knife,” he cried, “that I may cut these varlets in pieces. I am a nobleman; no one has ever struck me in the face before! Water! Let me sleep. I am innocent. It is not I that took the seven hundred caroluses, it was Hilbert. Water! I have never committed any sorceries nor any incantations. I am innocent. Leave me alone and give me something to drink.”
But the bailiff only asked him how he had passed the time after he left Katheline.
“I do not know Katheline at all,” he said, “therefore I never left her. You have asked me an unfair question, and I am not bound to answer it. Give me something to drink. Let me go to sleep. I tell you it was Hilbert who was responsible for everything.”
“Take him away,” said the bailiff, “put him back into his prison. But see that he has nothing to drink, and that he does not fall asleep until he has admitted his sorceries and incantations.”
And now Damman suffered the most cruel torture of all, and he cried out continually in his prison: “Water! Water!” And so loudly did he cry that the people outside could hear him, nevertheless they felt no pity for him. And when he began to fall off to sleep the guards struck him in the face, and he cried out again, like a tiger:
“I am a nobleman, and I will kill you, you varlets! I will go to the King our master. Water!”