“There is a Flanders man there that hath prophetical seeds blessed at Jerusalem upon the tomb of Our Lord Jesus, but they say he has no mind to sell them.”
And all the good citizens came to Ulenspiegel and asked him for his seeds.
But Ulenspiegel, who meant to have great profits, answered that they were not as yet ripened sufficiently, and he had an eye upon two rich Jews that went wandering about the market.
“I would fain know,” said one of the citizens, “what will come of my ship that is on the sea.”
“It will go as far as heaven, if the waves are high enough,” said Ulenspiegel.
Another said, showing him his pretty daughter, all full of blushes:
“This one will doubtless turn out well?”
“Everything turns to what nature will have,” replied Ulenspiegel, for he had just seen the girl give a key to a young man who, puffed up with content, said to Ulenspiegel:
“Master merchant, give me one of your prophesying bags, that I may see whether I shall sleep alone to-night.”
“It is written,” replied Ulenspiegel, “that he who soweth the rye of seduction reaps the ergot of cuckoldom.”