"Who will go then?" asked the lady.

"I will," he answered, "old as I am."

And away he went.

Midday had struck. It was very hot. The silence was profound. Ulenspiegel said not a word, but taking off his new doublet he laid it on the gra.s.s in the shade of a lime-tree, so that the dame might sit down thereon without fear of the damp. He stood close by, heaving a sigh.

She looked up at him, and felt compa.s.sion on that shy little figure, and she inquired of him if he was not tired standing there upright on his young legs. He did not answer, but slid gently down at her side. She was desirous of resting him, and she drew his head on to her bare neck, and there it lay so willingly that she would have thought it the sin of cruelty itself had she bade him find some other pillow.

After a while the attendant came back, saying that he had not been able to find the bag.

"I have found it myself," replied the lady, "for when I dismounted from my horse, there it was hanging half open on the stirrup. And now"--this to Ulenspiegel--"show us the way to Dudzeel, please, and tell me your name."

"My patron saint," he replied, "is Monsieur Saint Thylbert, a name which means fleet of foot towards that which is good; my second name is Claes, and my surname Ulenspiegel. But now, if you would deign to look at yourself in my mirror, you would see that in all the land of Flanders there is not one flower so dazzling in its beauty as is the scented grace of you."

The lady blushed with pleasure, and was not angry with Ulenspiegel.

But Soetkin and Nele sat at home, weeping together, through all this long absence.

XVIII

When Ulenspiegel returned from Dudzeel and came to the entrance of the town, he saw Nele standing there leaning with her back against the toll-gate. She was picking the stones out of a bunch of black grapes, which she munched one by one, and found therefrom, doubtless, much delight and refreshment; nevertheless, she did not allow anything of her enjoyment to appear on her countenance. On the contrary, she seemed annoyed at something, tearing at the grapes angrily. She looked, indeed, so sad and sorrowful, so sweetly unhappy, that Ulenspiegel felt overcome with that pity which is almost love, and coming up to her from behind, he printed a kiss on the nape of the girl's neck. But all the return she gave him was a great box on the ear.

"Now I shall not be able to see properly any more," he said.

She burst into tears.

"O Nele," says he, "are you going to set up fountains at the entrance of all the villages?"

"Be off with you," says she.

"But I can't go away and leave you crying like this, my little pet."

"I am not your little pet," says Nele; "neither am I crying."

"No, you are not crying, but there is certainly some water coming out of your eyes."

"Will you go away?" She turned on him.

"No," he answered.

All the time she was holding her pinafore in her small trembling hand, tearing at the stuff in little spasms of rage, and wetting it with her tears.

"Nele," said Ulenspiegel, "when is it going to be fine again?"

And he smiled at her very lovingly.

"Why do you ask me that?" she said.

"Because when it is fine there is an end of weeping," answered Ulenspiegel.

"Go back to your beautiful lady of the brocaded gown," she said. "Your jokes are good enough for her...."

Then Ulenspiegel sang:

When I see my love crying My heart is torn.

When she smiles 'tis honey, Pearls when she weeps.

Either way I love her.

And I'll draw a draught of wine, Good wine from Louvain, And I'll draw a draught of wine, When Nele smiles again.

"You villainous man!" she cried, "making fun of me again!"

"Nele," said Ulenspiegel, "it is true that I am a man. But I am not a villain. For our family is of n.o.ble origin, a family of aldermen, and it carries on its s.h.i.+eld three pint pots argent on a ground bruinbier. But, Nele, tell me now, is it a fact that in Flanders when a man sows a kiss he always reaps a box on the ear?"

"I refuse to speak to you," said Nele.

"Then why open your mouth to tell me so?"

"I am angry," she said.

Ulenspiegel slapped her on the back very lightly with his hand, saying:

"Kiss a naughty girl and she will cuff you; cuff her, she will cry. Come then, sweet, cry upon my shoulder since I have cuffed you!"

Nele turned round. He opened his arms, and she threw herself into them.

"You won't go away any more down there, will you Tyl?" she asked him.

But he did not answer, busy as he was in pressing with his the hand that trembled so pitifully, and in drying with his lips the hot tears that fell from the eyes of Nele, like heavy drops of rain in a storm.

XIX

These were the days when the n.o.ble city of Ghent refused to pay the tax which her son, the Emperor Charles, was demanding of her. The fact was it was impossible to pay, for already the city was drained of money by the act of Charles himself. But it seemed that the city was guilty of a great crime, and Charles resolved to go himself and exact punishment. For to be whipped by her own son is above all things painful to a mother.