Every one laughed, and Grypstuiver ate his anger as best he could. Then Claes went home, followed by Lamme, walking as if his legs were made of wool.
XXXIII
Towards the end of the third year of her banishment, Katheline returned to her home in Damme. And continually she cried aloud in her madness: “Fire, fire! My head is on fire! My soul is knocking, make a hole, she wants to get out!” And if ever she saw an ox or a sheep she would run from it as if in terror. And she would sit on the bench at the back of her cottage, under the lime-trees, wagging her head and staring at the people of Damme as they passed by. But she did not recognize them, and they called her “The mad-woman.”
Meanwhile Ulenspiegel went wandering along the roads and pathways of the world, and one day he met a donkey on the highway, harnessed with leather and studs of brass, and its head ornamented with tassels and plumes of scarlet wool....
Some old women were standing round the donkey in a circle, all talking at once and telling each other how that no one could tame the donkey for that he was a terrible animal and had belonged to the Baron of Raix, who was a magician and had been burned alive for having sacrificed eight children to the devil. “And he ran away so fast,” said the old women, “that none could catch him. And without a doubt he is under the protection of Satan. For a while ago he seemed tired, resting by the wayside, and the village constables came to seize him. But he suddenly kicked out with his hind legs and brayed in such fearful fashion that they durst not to go near him. And that was no bray of an ass, but the bray of the devil himself. So the constables left him to browse among the thistles, and passed no sentence upon him, nor did they burn him alive for a sorcerer as they should have done. Verily these men have no courage.”
Notwithstanding this brave talk, the donkey had only to prick up his ears or flick his sides with his tail, to send the women running away from him with cries of terror. Then back they would come, chattering and jabbering, but ever ready to be off again if the donkey showed the least sign of movement. Ulenspiegel could not help laughing at the sight,
“Ah!” said he, “talk and curiosity! They flow like an everlasting river from the mouths of women—and especially old women, for with the young the flow is less continuous by reason of their amorous occupations.”
Then, considering the donkey:
“This sorcerer-beast,” said he to himself, “is a sprightly ass without a doubt, and a good goer. What if I were to take him for my own, to ride, or maybe sell him?”