“Alas!” answered Lamme, “that is a hard thing for a man of my corpulence!”
But Ulenspiegel, paying him no heed, hid behind the tilt of the cart, and imitating the voice of a wheezy fellow lilting after drinking, he sang:
“Thy wild lover I saw, I say,
Within an old worm-eaten shay
Beside a glutton one fine day,
I saw, I say.”
“Thyl,” said Lamme, “thou hast an ill tongue this morning.”
Ulenspiegel, without listening to him, thrust his head out through the opening of the tilt and said:
“Nele, do you not know me?”
She, seized with fear, weeping and laughing at the same time, for her cheeks were all wet, said to him: