“Let me go instead of you,” said Nele.
“No,” he said, “the roads are muddy.”
“Why, little girl,” said the lady, who was annoyed and jealous now in her turn, “why do you try to hinder him from coming with me?”
Nele did not answer, but great tears gushed from her eyes, and she gazed at the fine lady in sadness and in anger.
Then the four of them started off, the dame seated like a queen upon her ambling palfrey, the attendant with his belly that shook with every step, Ulenspiegel holding the lady’s horse by the bridle, and Bibulus Schnouffius walking at his side, tail proudly in air.
Thus went they on horseback and on foot for some long while. But Ulenspiegel was not at his ease; dumb as a fish he sniffed the fine scent of benjamin that floated from the lady, and saw out of the corner of his eye all her beautiful gear, rare jewels and trinkets, and the sweet expression of her face, her bright eyes, and bare neck, and her hair that shone in the sunlight like a hood of gold.
“Why are you so quiet, my little man?” she asked him.
He answered nothing.
“Do you keep your tongue so deep in your boots that you could not take a message for me?”
“What is it?” said Ulenspiegel.