“Not just yet,” said Ulenspiegel.
On the six-and-thirtieth day the Landgrave again thrust his nose inside the door.
“Well, Tyl,” he inquired, “how now?”
“Ah, Sir Landgrave,” said Ulenspiegel, “the portraits are getting on.”
On the sixtieth day the Landgrave grew very angry, and coming right into the room:
“Show me the pictures at once!” he cried.
“I will do so,” answered Ulenspiegel, “but pray have the kindness not to draw the curtain until you have summoned hither the lords and captains and ladies of your court.”
“Very well,” said the Landgrave, and at his command the aforesaid notabilities appeared. Ulenspiegel took up his stand in front of the curtain, which was still carefully drawn.
“My Lord Landgrave,” he said, “and you, Madame the Landgravine, and you my Lord of Lüneburg, and you others, fine ladies and valiant captains, know that behind this curtain have I portrayed to the best of my abilities your faces, every one warlike or gentle as the case may be. It will be quite easy for each one of you to recognize himself. And that you are anxious to see yourselves is only natural. But I pray you have patience and suffer me to speak a word or two before the curtain is drawn. Know this, fair ladies and valiant captains; all you that are of noble blood shall behold my paintings and rejoice. But if there be among you any that is of low or humble birth, such an one will see nothing but a blank wall. So there! And now, have the goodness to open wide your noble eyes.”
And so saying, Ulenspiegel drew the curtain.