“Wotting of the miracle, and fortified with a brief from His Holiness, for which I paid roundly, I came hither and established myself.
“Thenceforward all the ancient coughers and big-bellies in Meyborg and the country roundabout, persuaded by my arguments, were certain that having once beaten one another soundly with the candle, the which is unction, and with the cudgel, that is power, they would win favour of Our Lady. The women send their ancient husbands hither. The children born by virtue of this pilgrimage are violent, bold, fierce, nimble, and make perfect soldiers.”
Suddenly the hermit said to Claes:
“Dost thou know me?”
“Yea,” said Claes, “thou art Josse my brother.”
“I am,” replied the hermit; “but what is this little man that makes faces at me?”
“It is thy nephew,” said Claes.
“What difference dost thou make between me and the Emperor Charles?”
“It is great,” replied Claes.
“It is but small,” rejoined Josse, “for we do both alike, we two: he makes men to slay one another, I to beat one another for our gain and pleasure.”