Father Nicholas then began to speak, addressing himself to the pilot:
“O Rochus,” he said, “are they taking us to the gallows-field?” Then, turning his face towards Gorcum: “O city of Gorcum,” he cried, stretching out his hands, “O city of Gorcum, how many evils hast thou still to suffer! Verily thou shalt be cursed among all the cities of the earth, for thou hast nurtured within thy walls the seed of heresy! O city of Gorcum! For now no longer shall the angel of the Lord stand watch above thy gates, no longer shall he have any care for the modesty of thy virgins, or the courage of thy men, or for the fortunes of thy merchants! O city of Gorcum, accursed thou art and doomed to misfortune!”
“Cursed and accursed indeed!” answered Ulenspiegel. “As accursed as is the comb that has combed away the lice of Spain, or accursed as the dog that has broken the chain that held him captive, or as the proud charger that has thrown from his back the cruel cavalier! Be cursed yourself, silly preacher that you are, who think it an evil thing to break the rod upon the back of a tyrant, even if it be a rod of iron!”
The monk was silenced, and dropping his eyes he seemed lost in a dream of hate and bigotry.
The next morning they arrived at La Brièle, and a messenger was sent to advise Messire de Lumey of their coming.
As soon as he had received the news he set out to go to them on horseback, half dressed as he was, and with him went a company of armed men, some on foot and some on horseback. And now once again was it given to Ulenspiegel to behold this fierce admiral dressed as he was like some noble, proud and opulent.
“Welcome,” said he, “Sir Monks. And now hold up your hands and show me there the blood of my Lords of Egmont and Hoorn!”
One of the monks, whose name was Leonard, made answer:
“Do what you like with us. We are monks. No one will make any objection.”
“He has well spoken,” said Ulenspiegel. “For having broken with the world—that is with father, mother, brother and sister, wife and sweetheart—a monk finds no one at the hour of God to claim anything on his behalf. Nevertheless, your Excellency, I will do so. For Captain Marin, when he signed the treaty for the capitulation of Gorcum, stipulated that these monks should be free like all the others that were taken in the citadel and were allowed to go out from it. But in spite of this, and for no adequate reason, these monks were kept prisoner, and now it is reported that they are to be hanged. My Lord, I address myself to you right humbly on their behalf, for I know that the word of a soldier is a word of gold—parole de soldat, c’est parole d’or.”