At Dordrecht the ship stopped in the Harbour at the Bloemen-Key, the Flower quay; men, women, lads, and lasses ran up in crowds to see the monks, and said to one another pointing at them with a finger or threatening them with their fist:
“Look at those clowns, manufacturers of Bons Dieux that bring men’s bodies to the stake and their souls to the fire everlasting; look at the fat tigers and big-bellied jackals.”
The monks hung their heads and dared not speak. Ulenspiegel saw them trembling once more.
“We are hungry again,” said they, “compassionate soldier.”
But the ship master:
“What is always drinking? Dry sand. Who eats without ceasing? The monk.”
Ulenspiegel went up the town to find bread for them, ham, and a great jug of beer.
“Eat and drink,” said he; “ye are our prisoners, but I shall save you if I can. Word of a soldier, word of gold.”
“Why dost thou give them that? They will never pay you,” said the rascal Beggars; and talking among themselves they whispered these words in each other’s ears: “He has promised to save them; let us keep good watch upon him.”
At dawn they came to Briele. The gates having been opened to them, a voet-looper, a courier, went to inform Messire de Lumey of their coming.