And these cried aloud:
“Do ye see the hump? it bends! see you, it gives way! it will melt away on the right”—“No, it will go back into the breast; humps do not melt, they go down again into the intestines from which they come”—“No, they return into the stomach where they serve as nourishment for eighty days”—“It is the saint’s gift to humpbacks that are rid of them”—“Where do the old humps go?”
Suddenly all the humpbacks gave a loud cry, for Ulenspiegel had just burst his hump leaning hard against the edge of the flat tomb top. All the blood that was in it fell, dripping from his doublet in big drops upon the stone flags. And he cried out, straightening himself up and stretching out his arms:
“I am rid of it!”
And all the humpbacks began to call out together:
“Master Saint Remacle the blessed, it is kind to him, but hard to us”—“Master, take away our humps, ours too!”—“I, I will give thee a calf.”—“I, seven sheep.”—“I, the year’s hunting.”—“I, six hams.”—“I, I will give my cottage to the Church”—“Take away our humps, Master Saint Remacle!”
And they looked on Ulenspiegel with envy and with respect. One would have felt under his doublet, but the dean said to him:
“There is a wound that may not see the light.”
“I will pray for you,” said Ulenspiegel.
“Aye, Pilgrim,” said the humpbacks, speaking all together, “aye, master, thou that hast been made straight again, we made a mock of thee; forgive it us, we knew not what we did. Monseigneur Christ forgave when on the cross; give us all forgiveness.”