And Katheline replied, groaning:
“Cold arms and hot heart, Hans, my beloved. I am athirst; my head burns!”
“And thou, woman,” said the bailiff, “hast thou naught to say?”
“I hear,” said she, “the chariot of death and the dry noise of bones. I thirst! And he taketh me to a great river where there is water, water fresh and clear; but this water it is fire. Hans, my dear, deliver me from these cords. Yea, I am in purgatory and I see on high Monseigneur Jesus in his paradise and Madame Virgin so full of compassion. O our dear Lady, give me one drop of water: do not eat those lovely fruits all alone.”
“This woman is smitten with cruel madness,” said one of the aldermen. “She must be taken from the bench of torment.”
“She is no more mad than I,” said Joos Damman; “it is mere play and acting.” And in a threatening voice: “I shall see thee in the fire,” he said to Katheline, “thou playest the madwoman so well.”
And grinding his teeth, he laughed at his cruel lie.
“I thirst,” said Katheline; “have pity, I thirst. Hans, my beloved, give me to drink. How white thy face is! Let me come to him, Messieurs the Judges.” And opening her mouth wide: “Yea, yea, they are now putting fire in my breast, and the devils fasten me on this cruel bed. Hans, take thy sword and slay them, thou so mighty. Water, to drink, to drink!”
“Perish, witch,” said Joos Damman; “they ought to thrust a choke-pear into her mouth to keep her from setting herself up thus, a low creature like her, against me, a man of rank.”
At this word one of the aldermen, an enemy of the nobility, replied: