And both were grieved thinking upon Katheline.
They came to her and saw her sitting upon a bench in the sun against the wall of a house. Ulenspiegel said to her:
“Do you know me?”
“Four times three,” quoth she, “it is the sacred number, and the thirteenth is Thereb. Who art thou, child of this wicked world?”
“I am Ulenspiegel,” he answered, “the son of Soetkin and of Claes.”
She shook her head and knew him; then beckoning him close with her finger and bending to his ear:
“If thou see him whose kisses are as snow, tell him to come back to me, Ulenspiegel.”
Then showing her burned hair:
“I am ill,” she said; “they have taken my wits, but when he comes he will fill my head again, which now is all empty. Hearest thou? it sounds like a bell; it is my soul knocking at the door to depart, because it burns. If Hanske comes and has no mind to fill me my head again, I will tell him to make a hole in it with a knife: the soul that is there, ever knocking to come out, grieveth me cruelly, and I shall die, yea. And now I never sleep, and I look for him always, and he must fill me my head again, yea.”
And sinking down again, she groaned.