There, shaking his bells, he opened out his arms as if he was on the point of flying. Then leaning down towards King Philip, he said:
“I thought there was no fool in Antwerp save only me, but I perceive the town is full of them. If you had told me you were going to fly, I should not have believed you; but let a fool come and tell you he will do it, and you believe him. How would you have me fly, since I have no wings?”
Some laughed, others swore, but all said:
“This fool says what is none the less quite true.”
But King Philip remained stiff as a king of stone.
And the magnates of the commune said softly one to the other:
“There was no need to make such great festival for such a sour-face.”
And they gave three florins to Ulenspiegel, who departed, first perforce restoring to them the robe of crimson silk.
“What are three florins in the pouch of a young man but a snowball before a fire, a full bottle in front of you, wide-throated drinkers? Three florins! The leaves fall from the trees and sprout again upon them, but florins leave pouches and return thither no more: the butterflies flitter away with the summer time, and the florins, too, although they weigh two estrelins and nine as.”
So saying, Ulenspiegel contemplated his three florins closely.