“But that bell that is ringing so lamentably?”

“It knows not what it doth,” answered Ulenspiegel.

“And that dolorous trumpet and all these folk running?”

“Infinite is the tale of fools.”

“What is burning then?” said she.

“Thy eyes and my flaming heart,” answered Ulenspiegel.

And he leaped to her mouth.

“You eat me,” she said.

“I like cherries,” said he.

She looked at him, smiling and distressed. Suddenly bursting into tears: