“Thyl,” said she, “my love, Thyl, art thou not wounded?”
Ulenspiegel sang:
“My standards ‘Live’ as motto bear,
Live ever in a sunshine land;
My skin the first is buff well tanned
My second skin is forged of steel.”
“Alas!” said Lamme, dragging a leg, “the bullets, grenades, chain shot rain around him; he feels but the wind of them. Thou art without doubt a spirit, Ulenspiegel, and thou, too, Nele, for I behold thee ever brisk and young.”
“Why dost thou drag thy leg?” asked Nele of Lamme.
“I am no spirit and never will be,” said he. “And so I took an axe stroke in the thigh—how round and white my wife’s was!—see, I am bleeding. Alas! why have I her not here to tend me!”
But Nele, angry, replied: