“He hath not charge to remove humps of penance,” replied the pilgrim.
“Did he remove others?” asked Ulenspiegel.
“Aye, when the humps are young. If then the miracle of healing takes place, we hold revel and feasting throughout all the town. And every pilgrim gives a piece of silver, and oftentimes a gold florin to the happy one that is cured, becomes a saint thereby and with power to pray with efficacy for the others.”
Ulenspiegel said:
“Why doeth the wealthy Master Saint Remacle, like a rascal apothecary, make folk pay for his cures?”
“Impious tramp, he punishes blasphemers!” replied the pilgrim, shaking his hump in fury.
“Alas!” groaned Ulenspiegel.
And he fell doubled up at the foot of a tree.
The pilgrim, looking down on him, said:
“Master Saint Remacle smites hard when he smites.”