“Blessed be the gray horseman. Nele must have a husband, a handsome husband carrying a sword, a black husband with a shining face.”
“Aye,” said Ulenspiegel, “a fricassee of husbands for which I shall make the sauce with my knife.”
Nele looked at her friend with eyes all moist for the pleasure of seeing him so jealous.
“I want no husband,” said she.
Katheline replied:
“When he that is clad in gray shall come, ever booted and spurred in another fashion.”
Soetkin said:
“Pray to God for the poor madwife.”
“Ulenspiegel,” said Katheline, “go fetch us four quarts of dobbel-cuyt whilst I go to prepare the heete-koeken”; which are pancakes in the land of France.
Soetkin asked why she made feast on Saturday like the Jews.