He followed them into the court of the inn, happy to see these fresh faces about him. Suddenly he beheld entering the court with high ceremony, with banner and trumpet and flute and tambourine, the Brothers of the Good Red Nose, wearing in fatness the jolly name of their fellowship. As they looked curiously upon him, the women told them it was a pilgrim they had picked up by the way and that finding him a true Red Nose, and matching their husbands and betrotheds, they had been minded to make him share their feast.
The men approved their tale, and one said:
“Pilgrim on pilgrimage, wouldst thou pilgrimage through sauces and fricassees?”
“I shall have seven-leagued boots for that,” said Ulenspiegel.
As he was on the point of entering the hall of the feasting with them, he descried on the road to Paris twelve blind men trudging along. When they passed before him, complaining of hunger and of thirst, Ulenspiegel said to himself that they would sup that night like kings, at the charge of the dean of Uccle, in memory of the masses for the dead. He went to them and said:
“Here be nine florins, come and eat. Do ye smell the good fragrance of the fricassees?”
“Alas!” said they, “for the last half of a league, and no hope.”
“You shall eat,” said Ulenspiegel, “now you have nine florins.” But he did not give them.
“A blessing on thee,” said they.
And guided by Ulenspiegel, they sat down around a small table, while the Brothers of the Good Red Nose sate at a great one with their goodwives and sweethearts.