Then he looked round him again; the two peasants had fled like the curé, and had flung down shovel and chair and sunshade to run the better; the burgomaster and the aldermen, holding their ears with fright, were whimpering on the turf.

Ulenspiegel went up to them, and shaking them:

“Can any bury,” said he, “Ulenspiegel the spirit and Nele the heart of Mother Flanders? She, too, may sleep, but not die. No! Come, Nele.”

And he went forth with her, singing his sixth song, but no man knoweth where he sang the last one of all.

THE END

THE LYRICS IN THIS VERSION OF ULENSPIEGEL HAVE BEEN SPECIALLY TRANSLATED BY MR. JOHN HERON LEPPER

Printed in Great Britain by
Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,
BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.

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