“You are counting over the sweet treasures of beauty thus lost to your shame. ’Tis a spy. You fall in luck when you fall. I am going to burst with laughing.”
Ulenspiegel said not a word, and both got up on their asses once more.
XX
They went on their way each well astride his ass.
Lamme, chewing the cud of his last meat, sniffed up the cool air rejoicing. Suddenly Ulenspiegel fetched him a great stinging slash of his whip on his behind, which was like a cushion in the saddle.
“What are you doing?” cried Lamme, piteously.
“What!” answered Ulenspiegel.
“This lash with the whip?” said Lamme.
“What lash with the whip?”