“The ashes beat upon my heart. Thou makest the hour of God to strike.”
“And,” said Lamme, “the hour of food in like wise. Give me twenty lads, valiant soldiers and sailors; I will go and seek out the traitor.”
“I will be their leader,” said Ulenspiegel. “Who loves justice let him follow me. Not all of you, dear friends and trusty; there must be twenty only, else who would keep the ship? Draw lots by the dice. Ye are twenty, come. The dice speak well. Put your skates on your feet and glide towards the star of Venus burning bright above the treachour’s farm.
“Guiding yourselves by the clear beam, come, ye twenty, skating and sliding, axe on shoulder.
“The wind whistles and drives white whirls of snow before it on the ice. Come, brave men!
“Ye sing not, nor speak; ye go straight on, in silence, towards the star; your skates make the ice complain.
“He that falls picks himself up at once. We touch the shore; no human shape on the white snow, not a bird in the icy air. Take off the skates from your feet.
“Here we are on land; here are the meadows; put on your skates again. We are round about the farm, holding our breath.”
Ulenspiegel knocks on the door; dogs bark. He knocks again, a window opens and the baes says, sticking out his head:
“Who art thou?”