"Welcome," said he, "Sir Monks. And now hold up your hands and show me there the blood of my Lords of Egmont and Hoorn!"

One of the monks, whose name was Leonard, made answer:

"Do what you like with us. We are monks. No one will make any objection."

"He has well spoken," said Ulenspiegel. "For having broken with the world--that is with father, mother, brother and sister, wife and sweetheart--a monk finds no one at the hour of G.o.d to claim anything on his behalf. Nevertheless, your Excellency, I will do so. For Captain Marin, when he signed the treaty for the capitulation of Gorc.u.m, stipulated that these monks should be free like all the others that were taken in the citadel and were allowed to go out from it. But in spite of this, and for no adequate reason, these monks were kept prisoner, and now it is reported that they are to be hanged. My Lord, I address myself to you right humbly on their behalf, for I know that the word of a soldier is a word of gold--parole de soldat, c'est parole d'or."

"And who are you?" asked Messire de Lumey.

"My Lord," replied Ulenspiegel, "a Fleming I am from the lovely land of Flanders, working man, n.o.bleman, all in one--and I go wandering through the world, praising things beautiful and good but boldly making fun of foolishness. And verily I will sing your praises if you will keep the promise which was made to these men by the captain: parole de soldat, c'est parole d'or."

But the good-for-nothing Beggarmen who were on the s.h.i.+p cried out at this.

"My Lord," said they, "this man is a traitor. He has promised them that he will save them, and he has been loading them with bread and ham and sausages. But to us he has given nothing at all."

Then Messire de Lumey said to Ulenspiegel:

"Wandering Fleming that you are, and protector of monks, I tell you I will have you hanged with them."

"I am not afraid," replied Ulenspiegel. "Parole de soldat, c'est parole d'or."

The monks were led away to a barn, and Ulenspiegel with them. There they tried to convert him with many theological arguments; but these soon sent him to sleep.

In the meanwhile Messire de Lumey was feasting at a table covered with meats and wines when a messenger arrived from Gorc.u.m from Captain Marin, bringing with him copies of those letters of William the Silent, Prince of Orange, which ordered "all governors of cities and other places to confer the same privileges of safety and surety on ecclesiastics as on the rest of the people."

The messenger asked to be brought into the presence of de Lumey so that he might put into his own hands the copies of these letters.

"Where are the originals?" inquired de Lumey.

"My master has them," said the messenger.

"And the churl sends me the copy!" said de Lumey. "Where is your pa.s.sport?"

"Here, my Lord," said the messenger.

Then Messire de Lumey began to read it aloud:

"My Lord and Master Marin Brandt commands all ministers, governors, and officers of the Republic that they should allow to pa.s.s...." etc.

De Lumey struck the table with his fist, and tore the pa.s.sport in two.

"Sang de Dieu!" he cried. "What is he doing meddling here, this Marin? This trumpery fellow who before the taking of La Briele had not so much as the bone of a smoked herring to place between his teeth! He calls himself 'My Lord' forsooth, and 'Master,' and sends to me his 'orders'! He commands and orders! You may tell your master that since he is so much of a Captain and so much of a My Lord, ordering and commanding so excellently well, the monks shall be hanged forthwith, and you with them if you don't get out at once."

And he gave the man a great kick and had him removed from the room.

"Bring me to drink," he cried. "Have you ever seen anything to compare with the effrontery of this Marin? I could spit my food out, so angry I am. Let the monks be hanged immediately, and let the wandering Fleming be brought hither to me as soon as he has witnessed the execution. We will see if he still dares to tell me that I have done wrong. Blood of G.o.d! What are these pots and gla.s.ses doing here?"

And with a great noise he brake the bowls and dishes, and no one durst say anything to him. The servants would have cleared up the debris but he would not allow them, but went on drinking yet more; and growing more and more enraged he strode up and down the room, treading the broken pieces and stamping upon them furiously.

Ulenspiegel was brought before him.

"Well?" he said. "What news of your friends the monks?"

"They have been hanged," said Ulenspiegel. "And those cowards of executioners, whose game it is to kill for profit, have cut one of them open to sell the fat to an apothecary. And now the word of a soldier is gold no more. Parole de soldat n'est plus parole d'or."

Then de Lumey stamped again upon the broken dishes.

"So you defy me, do you, you good-for-nothing beast! But you also shall be hanged, not in my barn forsooth, but in the open street, most ignominiously, where all can see you!"

"Shame on you," cried Ulenspiegel. "Shame on us all! Parole de soldat n'est plus parole d'or."

"Silence, Iron-pate!" said Messire de Lumey.

"Shame on you again!" cried Ulenspiegel. "Parole de soldat n'est plus parole d'or. You ought rather to be punis.h.i.+ng those rascals that are merchants in human fat!"

At this Messire de Lumey rushed at Ulenspiegel and raised his hand to strike at him.

"Strike," said Ulenspiegel. "I am in your hands. But I have no fear at all of you. Parole de soldat n'est plus parole d'or."

Messire de Lumey drew his sword, and would certainly have killed Ulenspiegel had not Messire Tres-Long taken him by the arm, saying:

"Have mercy. He is a brave and valiant man and has committed no crime."

Then de Lumey thought better of the matter.

"Let him ask my pardon then," he said.

But Ulenspiegel stood his ground.

"Never," he said.

"At least he must admit that I was not in the wrong," cried de Lumey, growing angry again.

Ulenspiegel answered:

"I will lick no man's boots. Parole de soldat n'est plus parole d'or."

"Tell them to put up the gallows," said de Lumey, "and let this man be taken where he may hear the way a halter speaks."

"Yes," said Ulenspiegel, "and I will cry out there in front of all the people, Parole de soldat n'est plus parole d'or."

The gallows was set up in the market square, and the news spread swiftly through the city how Ulenspiegel, the brave Beggarman, was going to be hanged. And the populace was moved with pity and compa.s.sion, and a great crowd collected in the market square. And Messire de Lumey came there also, being desirous himself to give the signal for the execution.

He regarded Ulenspiegel without pity as he stood upon the scaffold, dressed to meet his death in a single garment with his arms bound to his sides, his hands clasped together, the cord round his neck, and the executioner ready to do the deed.

Tres-Long said:

"My Lord, pardon him now; he is no traitor, and no one has ever heard of a man being hanged simply because he was sincere and pitiful."