The sale ended, meanwhile, and the constables who were searching everywhere did not find the carolus. The fishmonger exclaimed:
“Ye search ill: I know that Claes had seven hundred six months ago.”
Ulenspiegel said in his heart: “Thou shalt not be the heir to them, murderer.”
Suddenly Soetkin turning towards him:
“The informer!” said she, showing him the fishmonger.
“I know that,” said he.
“Would you suffer him,” said she, “to inherit from the father’s blood?”
“Rather would I endure a whole day on the torture bench,” replied Ulenspiegel.
Quoth Soetkin:
“I, too, but do not give me away for pity, whatever torment you may see me enduring.”