The peasant arose, went towards the frying-pan, and crammed the ‘sausage’ right ‘twixt the teeth of the strolling player. He held it there; he held it there for a long while, making experiment with it.
“Nay,” said he, at length. “The ‘sausage’ hath not grown tender. The fire hath done naught.”
“Cease to wrestle with the thing,” said the labourer. “The mistress of the house will hear and will scold us. Thou hast scattered the fire over the frying-pan. Look! sprinkle it with water that the woman may perceive naught.”
“But where may I get the water?”
“Piss o’er it. Better extinguish the fire than have to go forth into the courtyard.”
The peasant had great desire to piss, and he pissed forthwith upon the face of the strolling player. And when the strolling player felt the water, coming whence he knew not, fall right in his mouth, he said:
“The deluge hath arrived!”
And he fell to crying with all the strength of his lungs:
“Little father! The deluge! The deluge!”
The priest heard the voice of the strolling player, and, half asleep, sought to cast himself, together with the trough, straight into the water, but instead he fell heavily on the ground, bruising himself all over.