“Nele is at Damme, far away,” said Ulenspiegel.
While he was in this posture and the hail was falling thick, a young and pretty woman passed by, running and covering up her head in her petticoat.
“Eh,” said she, “dreamy one, what dost thou under that tree?”
“I am dreaming,” said Ulenspiegel, “of a woman that should make me a roof against the hail with her petticoat.”
“Thou hast found her,” said the woman. “Rise up.”
“Wilt thou leave me alone again?” said Lamme.
“Aye,” said Ulenspiegel, “but go in de Zwaen, eat a leg of mutton or two, drink a dozen tankards of beer; you will sleep and you will not be forlorn then.”
“I will do that,” said Lamme.
Ulenspiegel went up to the woman.
“Pick up my skirt on one side,” said she, “I will lift it on the other, and now let us run.”