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+} +.xd20e3698width +{ +width:547px; +} +.xd20e4221width +{ +width:549px; +} +.xd20e4673 +{ +font-size:large; text-align:center; +} +.xd20e4674 +{ +text-decoration:underline; +} +.xd20e4677 +{ +font-size:xx-large; text-align:center;line-height:150%; +} +.xd20e4694 +{ +text-decoration:underline; font-style:italic; +} +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Flemish Legends, by Charles de Coster + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Flemish Legends + +Author: Charles de Coster + +Illustrator: Albert Delstanche + +Translator: Harold Taylor + +Release Date: October 8, 2011 [EBook #37668] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLEMISH LEGENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ for Project +Gutenberg (This file was produced from images generously +made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="front"> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first"></p> +<div class="figure xd20e121width"><img src="images/titlepage.gif" alt= +"Original Title Page." width="479" height="720"></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first xd20e127">Flemish Legends</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first"></p> +<div class="figure xd20e132width" id="p000"><img src="images/p000.jpg" +alt="The church of Haeckendover (page 40)" width="541" height="720"> +<p class="figureHead">The church of Haeckendover (page 40)</p> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="titlePage"> +<div class="docTitle"> +<div class="mainTitle">Flemish Legends</div> +</div> +<div class="byline"><i>By</i> <span class="docAuthor">Charles de +Coster</span><br> +With eight woodcuts by<br> +<span class="docAuthor">Albert Delstanche</span><br> +Translated from the French<br> +By <span class="docAuthor">Harold Taylor</span></div> +<div class="docImprint">London: Chatto & Windus<br> +<span class="docDate">MCMXX</span></div> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first xd20e127">Printed in England<br> +At the Complete Press<br> +West Norwood London <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd20e177" href= +"#xd20e177" name="xd20e177">v</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div id="toc" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h2 class="main">Contents</h2> +<table class="tocList"> +<tr> +<td class="tocDivNum"></td> +<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="5"></td> +<td class="tocPageNum">Page</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocDivNum">I.</td> +<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="5"><span class="sc"><a href="#ch1">The +Brotherhood of the Cheerful Countenance</a></span></td> +<td class="tocPageNum">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocDivNum">II.</td> +<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="5"><span class="sc"><a href="#ch2">The +Three Sisters</a></span></td> +<td class="tocPageNum">31</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocDivNum">III.</td> +<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="5"><span class="sc"><a href="#ch3">Sir +Halewyn</a></span></td> +<td class="tocPageNum">43</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tocDivNum">IV.</td> +<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="5"><span class="sc"><a href= +"#ch4">Smetse Smee</a></span></td> +<td class="tocPageNum">101</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p><span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd20e227" href="#xd20e227" name= +"xd20e227">vii</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h2 class="main">Illustrations</h2> +<ul> +<li><i><a href="#p000">The Church of Haeckendover</a></i> + <span class= +"tocPagenum"><i>Frontispiece</i></span></li> +<li><i><a href="#p006">The Little Stone Boy</a></i> + <span class="tocPagenum">Facing page +6</span></li> +<li><i><a href="#p052">The Man in White</a></i> + <span class="tocPagenum">52</span></li> +<li><i><a href="#p064">Sir Halewyn in the Wood</a></i> + <span class="tocPagenum">64</span></li> +<li><i><a href="#p092">The Song of the Head</a></i> + <span class="tocPagenum">92</span></li> +<li><i><a href="#p108">Smetse caught by the Two Branches</a></i> + <span class="tocPagenum">108</span></li> +<li><i><a href="#p126">In Smetse’s Garden</a></i> + <span class="tocPagenum">126</span></li> +<li><i><a href="#p150">The Devil-King and the Sack</a></i> + <span class="tocPagenum">150</span></li> +</ul> +<p><span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd20e289" href="#xd20e289" name= +"xd20e289">ix</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h2 class="main">Translator’s Note</h2> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">There never was a book which needed less of an +introduction than this one, unless it is that it should have an apology +from the translator for his handling of so beautiful an original. But +since so little is generally known of these Legends and their author a +word of information may be demanded.</p> +<p>Charles de Coster flourished in the middle part of the last century. +He was brought up in the court of a great dignitary of the Roman +Church, and intended for the aristocratic University of Louvain, but +showed early his independent and democratic turn of mind by preferring +the more popular University of Brussels, to which he made his own way. +Here he fell in with a group of fellow-students and artistic +enthusiasts which included Félicien Rops, with whom he was +associated in a society called <i lang="fr">Les Joyeux</i>, and +afterwards in a short-lived Review, to which they gave the name of that +traditional Belgian figure of joyousness and high spirits, +<i>Uylenspiegel</i>. It was in this that these Legends first appeared, +written in the years 1856 and 1857, and soon afterwards published in +book form.</p> +<p>Belgian literature was not at that time in a very flourishing +condition, and little general appreciation was shown of de +Coster’s work, but it was hailed with enthusiasm by a few of the +more discerning critics, and won him a place on a Royal Commission +which was investigating mediæval state papers. After publishing +another book, <i lang="fr">Contes brabançons</i>, likewise based +on the folk-lore of his country, he seems to have withdrawn into +himself and led the life of a dreamer, wandering about among the +peasants and burying himself in the wide countryside of Flanders, until +he had completed his epic of the Spanish tyranny, <i>Ulenspiegel</i>, +which has already been translated into English. None of these +publications brought him any material recompense for his work, and he +remained <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd20e311" href="#xd20e311" name= +"xd20e311">x</a>]</span>a poor man to the end of his life, in constant +revolt against what he called the horrible power of money.<a class= +"noteref" id="xd20e313src" href="#xd20e313" name= +"xd20e313src">1</a></p> +<p>The primitive stuff of these Legends is to be found scattered up and +down, a piece here and a piece there, in the folk-lore of Brabant and +Flanders. De Coster, who had an intense love of this folk-lore and at +the same time, as he said, “that particular kind of madness which +is needed for such writing,” set himself to give it a literary +form. He has chosen to make that form so elaborate, and has worked his +material to so fine a composition, that he must be considered to have +produced an entirely original book. But he has not been unfaithful to +his masters the people. <i>Sir Halewyn</i>, for instance, follows an +old song. And the Faust-story of <i>Smetse Smee</i>, the jovial and +ingenious smith, who gets the better of his bargain with the devil in +so wholly satisfactory a fashion, crops up in one form or another again +and again.</p> +<p>The Legends were written in the idiom of the sixteenth century, the +period to which the latest and longest of them roughly belongs. I +believe that no more perfect example of <i>pastiche</i> exists in the +language. But that is not of much interest to English readers, and I +have made no attempt to reproduce the achievement. De Coster found +modern French, with its rigidity of form, unsuitable to his subject and +inapt to his genius. He seems to have had a mind so perfectly in tune +with the Middle Ages that one may well believe that he found it +actually more natural to write in the still fluid language of Rabelais +than in that of his own day. The prose of the original is of arresting +beauty, especially in <i>Sir Halewyn</i>; which, with its peculiarly +Flemish tale of faery and enchantment, still beauty and glowing +hearths, and the sombreness of northern forests brooding over them, I +feel to be the high-water mark of his achievement. At times it becomes +so rhythmic that one can hardly decide whether it is prose or poetry. +It is not difficult to believe Potvin’s report that de Coster +spent <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd20e335" href="#xd20e335" name= +"xd20e335">xi</a>]</span>an immense amount of pains on his work, +sometimes doing a page twenty times over before he was content to let +it go.</p> +<p>De Coster has been spoken of as a mouthpiece of Protestantism. +Protestant, of course, is the last word in the world to describe him. +No one can have regretted much more than he the passing of that +warm-hearted time before the Reformation. One has but to read the story +of the building of the church at Haeckendover in <i>The Three +Sisters</i>, or the prayer of the girl Wantje to the Virgin in the tale +of the hilarious <i>Brotherhood</i> to see how far this is true. It is +only in <i>Smetse Smee</i>, when he comes to the time of the +Inquisition, that he bursts out with that stream of invective and +monstrous mockery which made the Polish refugee Karski say of him, +“Well roared, Fleming!” And even then it is Spain rather +than Catholicism which is the centre of his attack, and Philip II who +is his aiming-point.</p> +<p>Above all and before all de Coster loved the simple peasant-people +of his own land, with their frank interest in good things to eat and +good beer to drink, their aptitude for quarrelling and their great +hearts. All his chief portraits are painted from them. The old homely +nobility of Flanders, such as were the people of Heurne in the tale of +<i>Halewyn</i>, he liked well enough, but he could not bear a rich man +or a distant-mannered master of the Spanish type. A tale is told of him +and his painter friend Dillens which may well stand as the key to his +work. One day at Carnival-time they were in Ghent, and when the evening +came Dillens asked what they should do. “<i lang="fr">Voir le +peuple!</i>” cried de Coster, “<i lang="fr">le peuple +surtout! La bourgeoisie est la même partout! Va voir le +peuple!</i>”</p> +<p class="signed">H. T. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb3" href="#pb3" +name="pb3">3</a>]</span></p> +</div> +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id= +"xd20e313" href="#xd20e313src" name="xd20e313">1</a></span> His +biography has been written by Charles Potvin. <i lang="fr">Charles de +Coster; Sa Biographie</i>. Weissenbruch; Brussels.</p> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="body"> +<div id="ch1" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h2 class="main">The Brotherhood of the Cheerful Countenance</h2> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">I.</span> Of the sorrowful +voice which Pieter Gans heard in his garden, and of the flame running +over the grass.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">In the days when the Good Duke ruled over Brabant, +there was to be found at Uccle, with its headquarters in the tavern of +<i>The Horn</i>, a certain <i>Brotherhood of the Cheerful +Countenance</i>, aptly enough so named, for every one of the +<i>Brothers</i> had a wonderfully jolly face, finished off, as a sign +of good living, with two chins at the least. That was the young ones; +but the older ones had more.</p> +<p>You shall hear, first of all, how this Brotherhood was founded:</p> +<p>Pieter Gans, host of this same <i>Horn</i>, putting off his clothes +one night to get into bed, heard in his garden a sorrowful voice, +wailing: “My tongue is scorching me. Drink! Drink! I shall die of +thirst.”</p> +<p>Thinking at first that it was some drunkard below, he continued to +get into bed quietly, notwithstanding the voice, which kept crying out +in the garden: “Drink! Drink! I shall die of thirst.” But +this persisted so long and in so melancholy a manner that at last +Pieter Gans must needs get up and go to the window to see who it might +be making so much noise. Thence he saw a long flame, of great +brightness and strange upstanding shape, running over the grass; and, +thinking that it must be some poor soul from purgatory in need of +prayers, he set about repeating litanies, and went through above a +hundred, but all in vain, for the voice never ceased crying out as +before: “Drink! Drink! I shall die of thirst.”</p> +<p>After cock-crow he heard no more, and looking out again he saw with +great satisfaction that the flame had disappeared.</p> +<p>When morning came he went straightway to the church. There he told +the story of these strange happenings to the <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb4" href="#pb4" name="pb4">4</a>]</span>priest, and +caused a fair mass to be said for the repose of the poor soul; gave a +golden <i>peter</i> to the clerk so that others might be said later, +and returned home reassured.</p> +<p>But on the following night the voice began its wailing anew, as +lamentably as if it were that of a dying man hindered from dying. And +so it went on night after night.</p> +<p>Whence it came about that Pieter Gans grew moody and morose.</p> +<p>Those who had known him in former days, rubicund, carrying a good +paunch and a joyous face, wont to tell his matins with bottles and his +vespers with flagons, would certainly never have recognized him.</p> +<p>For he grew so wizened, dried up, thin, and of such piteous +appearance that dogs used to start barking at the sight of him, as they +do at beggars with their bundles.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">II.</span> How Jan Blaeskaek +gave good counsel to Pieter Gans, and wherein covetousness is sadly +punished.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">It so happened that while he was moping after this +fashion, passing his days in misery and without any joy of them, alone +in a corner like a leper, there came to the inn a certain Master Jan +Blaeskaek, brewer of good beer, a hearty fellow, and of a jovial turn +of mind.</p> +<p>This visitor, seeing Pieter Gans looking at him nervously and +shamefacedly, wagging his head like an old man, went up to him and +shook him: “Come,” said he, “wake up, my friend, it +gives me no pleasure to see thee sitting there like a +corpse!”</p> +<p>“Alas,” answered Pieter Gans, “I am not worth much +more now, my master.”</p> +<p>“And whence,” said Blaeskaek, “hast thou gotten +all this black melancholy?”</p> +<p>To which Pieter Gans made answer: “Come away to some place +where none will hear us. There I will tell thee the whole +tale.”</p> +<p>This he did. When Blaeskaek had heard to the end he <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb5" href="#pb5" name="pb5">5</a>]</span>said: +“’Tis no Christian soul that cries in this manner, but the +voice of a devil. It must be appeased. Therefore go thou and fetch from +thy cellar a good cask of ale, and roll it out into the garden, to the +place where thou didst see the flame shining.”</p> +<p>“That I will,” said Pieter Gans. But at vespers, +thinking to himself that ale was precious stuff to set before devils, +he put instead in that place a great bowl of clear water.</p> +<p>Towards midnight he heard a voice more sorrowful than ever, calling +out: “Drink! Drink! I shall die of thirst.”</p> +<p>And he saw the bright flame dancing furiously over the bowl, which +was suddenly broken with a loud report, and this in so violent a manner +that the pieces flew up against the windows of the house.</p> +<p>Then he began to sweat with terror and weep aloud, saying: +“Now ’tis all over, dear God, all over with me. Oh, that I +had followed the advice of the wise Blaeskaek, for he is a man of good +counsel, of excellent counsel! Master Devil, who are so thirsty, do not +kill me to-night; to-morrow you shall drink good ale, Master Devil. Ah, +’tis ale of fair repute throughout the land, this ale, fit for +kings or for good devils like yourself!”</p> +<p>Nevertheless the voice continued to wail: “Drink! +Drink!”</p> +<p>“There, there! Have a little patience, Master Devil; to-morrow +you shall drink my best ale. It cost me many a golden <i>peter</i>, my +master, and I will give you a whole barrelful. Do you not see that you +must not strangle me to-night, but rather to-morrow if I do not keep my +word.”</p> +<p>And after this fashion he wept and cried out until cock-crow. Then, +finding that he was not dead, he said his matins with a better +heart.</p> +<p>At sun-up he went down himself to fetch the cask of ale from his +cellar, and placed it in the middle of the grass, saying: “Here +is the freshest and the best drink I have; I am no niggard. So have +pity on me, Master Devil.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb6" +href="#pb6" name="pb6">6</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">III.</span> Of the songs, +voices, mewlings, and sounds of kisses which Pieter Gans and Blaeskaek +heard in the garden, and of the brave mien wherewith Master Merry-face +sat on the cask of stone.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">At the third hour Blaeskaek came down and asked for +news. Pieter Gans told his tale, and as he was about to go away again +drew him aside and said: “I have kept this secret from my +servants, lest they should go and blab about it to the priests, and so +I am as good as alone in the house. Do not therefore leave me, for it +may happen that some evil will come of the business, and ’twould +be well to have a good stomach in case of such event. Alone I should +certainly have none, but together we shall have enough for both. It +would be as well, then, to fortify ourselves against this assault on +our courage. Instead of sleeping we will eat and drink +heartily.”</p> +<p>“For that,” said Blaeskaek, “I am as ready as +thou.”</p> +<div class="figure xd20e459width" id="p006"><img src="images/p006.jpg" +alt="The Little Stone Boy" width="538" height="720"> +<p class="figureHead">The Little Stone Boy</p> +</div> +<p>Towards midnight the two comrades, tippling in a low room, fortified +with good eating, but not without some apprehension nevertheless, heard +the same voice outside, no longer sorrowful, but joyous, singing songs +in a strange tongue; and there followed divers sweet chants, such as +angels might sing (speaking with proper respect to them all), who in +Paradise had drunken too much ambrosia, voices of women celestially +soft, mewlings of tigers, sighs, noise of embraces and lovers’ +kisses.</p> +<p>“Ho, ho!” cried Pieter Gans, “what is this, dear +Jesus? They are devils for a certainty. They will empty my cask +altogether. And when they find my ale so good they will want more of +it, and come crying every night and shouting louder than ever: +’Drink! Drink!’ And I shall be ruined, alas, alas! Come, +friend Blaeskaek”—and so saying he pulled out his +<i>kuyf</i>, which is, as you may know, a strong knife well +sharpened—“Come, we must drive them off by force! But alone +I have not the courage.”</p> +<p>“I will come with you,” said Blaeskaek, “but not +until <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb7" href="#pb7" name= +"pb7">7</a>]</span>a little later, at cock-crow. They say that after +that hour devils cannot bite.”</p> +<p>Before the sun rose the cock crew.</p> +<p>And he had, that morning, so martial a tone that you would have +thought it a trumpet sounding.</p> +<p>And hearing this trumpet all the devils suddenly put a stop to their +drinking and singing.</p> +<p>Pieter Gans and Blaeskaek were overjoyed at that, and ran out into +the garden in haste.</p> +<p>Pieter Gans, hurrying to look for his cask of ale, found it changed +into stone, and on top of it, sitting horseback fashion, what seemed to +be a young boy, quite naked, a fair, sweet little boy, gaily crowned +with vine-leaves, with a bunch of grapes hanging over one ear, and in +his right hand a staff with a fir-cone at the tip, and grapes and +vine-branches twined round it.</p> +<p>And although this little boy was made of stone, he had all the +appearance of being alive, so merry a countenance had he.</p> +<p>Greatly alarmed were Gans and Blaeskaek at the sight of this +personage.</p> +<p>And fearing both the wrath of the devil and the punishment of the +Church, and swearing together to say no word about it to any one, they +put the figure (which was but a few thumbs high) in a dark cellar where +there was no drink kept.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">IV.</span> Wherein the two +worthy men set out for Brussels, capital city of Brabant, and of the +manners and condition of Josse Cartuyvels the Apothecary.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Having done so much they set out together for +Brussels, there to consult an old man, apothecary by trade, something +of a glutton, but liked well enough by the common folk on account of a +certain hotch-potch he made, well seasoned with rare herbs, for which +he asked a not unreasonable price. He was reputed by the devout to have +commerce with the devil, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb8" href="#pb8" +name="pb8">8</a>]</span>on account of the miraculous cures which he +effected in both man and beast by means of his herbs. Furthermore, he +sold beer, which he bought from Blaeskaek. And he was hideous to look +at, gouty, wizened, yellow as a guinea, wrinkled as an old apple, and +with carbuncles on his neck.</p> +<p>He lived in a house of mean appearance, in that part where you may +now see the brewery of Claes van Volxem. Gans and Blaeskaek, coming +thither, found him in his kitchen, making up his stews.</p> +<p>The apothecary, seeing Gans in such a piteous melancholy state, +asked him if he had some ill whereof he wished to be cured.</p> +<p>“He has nothing to be cured of,” said Blaeskaek, +“save an evil fear which has been tormenting him for a week +past.”</p> +<p>Thereupon they told him the whole story of the chubby-faced +image.</p> +<p>“Dear God!” said Josse Cartuyvels, for such was the name +of this doctor of stews, “I know this devil well enough, and will +show you his likeness.” And taking them up to the top of his +house, into a small room which he had there, he showed them a gallant +image of that same devil, making merry with pretty maids and gay +goat-foot companions.</p> +<p>“And what is the name,” said Blaeskaek, “of this +merry boy?”</p> +<p>“I have no doubt it is Bacchus,” said Josse Cartuyvels. +“In olden times he was a god, but at the gracious coming of Our +Lord Jesus Christ”—here all three crossed +themselves—“he lost at once his power and his divinity. He +was, in his time, good company, and more particularly notable as the +inventor of wine, beer, and ale. It may be, on that account, that +instead of hell he is only in purgatory, where no doubt he has become +thirsty, and by God’s permission was allowed to return to earth, +once only, no more, and there sing this lamentable song which you heard +in your garden. But I suppose that he was not allowed to cry his thirst +in countries where wine is chiefly drunk, and that he <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb9" href="#pb9" name="pb9">9</a>]</span>came +accordingly to Master Gans, knowing well enough that with him he would +find the best ale in all Brabant.”</p> +<p>“True,” said Gans, “true, friend Cartuyvels, the +best in the duchy; and he drank up, if you please, a whole barrelful, +without paying me so much as the smallest gold piece, nor silver, nor +even copper. That is not the conduct of an honest devil.”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said Cartuyvels, “there you are in error, +and do not perceive what is for your good and what for evil. But if you +will take the advice I am about to give you, you may find a way whereby +you can make clear profit from this Bacchus, for he is, you must know, +the god of jolly drinkers and good innkeepers, and I am disposed to +think that he will do you a good turn.”</p> +<p>“Well, then,” asked Blaeskaek, “what must we do +now?”</p> +<p>“I have heard that this devil loves warmth and sunlight. So +take him out, first of all, from this dark cellar. Then put him in some +place whither the sun reaches, such as on top of the tall press which +stands in the room where your customers sit and drink.”</p> +<p>“Sweet Jesus!” exclaimed Pieter Gans, “this is +idolatry.”</p> +<p>“In no wise,” said the apothecary. “I mean only +this; that, put up where I tell you, sniffing the good smell of stoups +and flagons, and hearing jolly talk, he will grow altogether frolicsome +and happy. So may you bring Christian comfort to poor dead +souls.”</p> +<p>“But if,” said Pieter Gans, “the priests should +get wind of this statue, so shamelessly set up for all to +see?”</p> +<p>“They cannot find you guilty of sin, for innocence keeps +nothing secret. You will show this Bacchus openly to all your friends +and relatives, and say that you found him buried under the earth in a +corner of your garden. Thus you will make him seem an ancient relic, as +indeed he is. Only take care to forget his name when you speak of him +to any one, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb10" href="#pb10" name= +"pb10">10</a>]</span>and, entitling him, as in jest, Master Merry-face, +use this name for him always, and institute in his honour a jolly +brotherhood.”</p> +<p>“So we will,” answered Pieter Gans and Blaeskaek +together, and they then departed, not without having given the +apothecary two large coins for his trouble.</p> +<p>He did his best, however, to keep them back, so that they might +partake of some of his heavenly hotch-potch, but Pieter Gans turned him +a deaf ear, saying to himself that it was devil’s cooking, +unwholesome for a good Christian stomach. So they left him and set out +again for Uccle.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">V.</span> Of the long +conversation and great perplexity of Pieter Gans and Blaeskaek in the +matter of the deviling; and how they returned to Uccle with a +resolution taken.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">While they were on their way: “Well, +comrade,” said Gans to Blaeskaek, “what is thy opinion of +this apothecary?”</p> +<p>“A dog of a heretic!” said Blaeskaek, “a heathen, +a despiser of all good and all virtue. For ’twas treasonable and +wicked counsel he gave us.”</p> +<p>“True, my good friend, true. And is it not besides a great +heresy to dare tell us that this deviling on his cask is he who +invented beer, wine, and ale, when we have heard it preached every +Sunday in our church that St. Noah, under the instruction of Our Lord +Jesus Christ”—here both crossed +themselves—“invented these things.”</p> +<p>“For my part,” said Blaeskaek, “I know I have +heard that preached above a hundred times.”</p> +<p>Here, seating themselves on the grass, they began to refresh +themselves with a fine Ghent sausage, brought by Pieter Gans against +such time as they should feel hungry.</p> +<p>“There, there,” said he, “let us not forget the +<i>Benedicite</i>, my friend. So, perhaps, we may escape burning. For +’tis to God we owe this meat: may he deign to keep us always in +his holy faith.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb11" href="#pb11" +name="pb11">11</a>]</span></p> +<p>“<i>Amen</i>,” said Blaeskaek; “but, my master, +between us we must certainly break up this wicked statue.”</p> +<p>“He who has no sheep fears no wolves. ’Tis easy enough +for thee to talk comfortably of breaking up this deviling.”</p> +<p>“’Twould be a deed much to our credit.”</p> +<p>“But if he come back again to wail each night so piteously: +’Drink! Drink!’ And if he turn angry with me and cast +spells on my beer and my wine, and make me as poor as Job! Nay, better +follow the advice of the apothecary.”</p> +<p>“Aye, and if the priests learn of the statue, and call us both +before the tribunal, and have us burnt as heretics and idolaters, what +then?”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Gans, “here are the good God on the one +hand and the wicked devil on the other, fighting over our poor bodies, +and we shall be pounded to nothing between them, alas, alas!”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Blaeskaek, “let us go to the good +fathers openly, and tell them the whole affair.”</p> +<p>“Alas, alas! We shall be burnt, my good master, burnt without +mercy.”</p> +<p>“I believe there must be some way whereby to escape this +danger.”</p> +<p>“There is none, my friend, there is none, and we shall be +burnt. I feel myself already half roast.”</p> +<p>“I have thought of a way,” said Blaeskaek.</p> +<p>“There is none, my friend, there is no way whatever, unless it +be the clemency of the worthy fathers. Canst see no pilgrim or +wandering friar on the road?”</p> +<p>“None.”</p> +<p>“If we see such a one we must give him all our +sausage—have we said our grace for it?—and all the bread in +our wallet, and humbly invite him into our house, to eat a quarter of +roast lamb, well washed down with old wine. I have not much of that +kind, but I will gladly give him all there is of it. Canst not see such +a one coming?” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb12" href="#pb12" +name="pb12">12</a>]</span></p> +<p>“No one,” said Blaeskaek. “But open those +rabbit’s ears of thine and hark to me: I will give thee good +counsel, for I wish thee well, blubberer. We must follow the +apothecary’s advice in half-and-half fashion, so much only, you +understand. ’Twould be idolatry of the most shameless kind to put +up this statue in the public hall.”</p> +<p>“Alas, alas, by all the devils! yes, you are right.”</p> +<p>“Very well, then we will put him in a cupboard, which shall be +well fastened, but with an opening on the top to let in the air. +Therein we will also put a small keg of good beer, and ask him not to +use it up too fast. In this way he will be, in fact, within the hall of +the inn, and he will keep himself well hid for certain, for in his +cupboard he will be able to take what pleasure he may from the songs of +the drinkers, rattling of mugs, and clinking of bottles.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Gans to that, “no, we must follow +wholly the apothecary’s advice, for he knows more about devils +than we. As for this deviling, we will do our best to satisfy him, +according to our means. But in spite of it all, I fear we shall one day +be burnt, alas, alas!”</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VI.</span> Wherein it is seen +that the devil is not a good one; and of the evil trick which he played +on the good wives of the drinkers.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">As soon as they reached <i>The Horn</i>, the two +worthies took out from the cellar the statue of the deviling and put it +with great respect on top of a press which stood in the hall.</p> +<p>On the morrow there came to this inn nearly all the men of Uccle, +brought together in this wise because on that day had been sold +publicly in their stables two horses well bred by the late sheriff, +Jacob Naeltjens. His son was in no mind to keep them, saying that a +man’s best steeds were his slipper-shoes.</p> +<p>The men of Uccle were surprised and delighted when they saw the +statue of the youngster on the press, especially when Blaeskaek told +them that his name was Master Merry-face, <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb13" href="#pb13" name="pb13">13</a>]</span>and that it was proposed, +by way of jest, to establish forthwith in his honour a jolly +brotherhood.</p> +<p>They were all willing to do this, and thereupon decided between them +that no one should be of their brotherhood until he had drunk, as his +baptism, four-and-twenty monstrous great cups of wine, while another +brother beat twelve strokes on the plumpest belly of the company there +present.</p> +<p>Each night thereafter they gathered together at <i>The Horn</i>, and +drank deep enough, as you may well guess.</p> +<p>The most wonderful thing about the business was that in spite of +this they worked all day like stout fellows, some at their crafts, some +at their trades, others in the fields, contented one and all. But their +good wives were not by any means contented, for as soon as vespers +sounded all their husbands and sweethearts went off to <i>The Horn</i>, +without giving them so much as a single thought, and there stayed until +curfew.</p> +<p>And when these worthies went home they did not beat their wives, as +some drinkers do, but lay down quietly beside them in bed, and +immediately, without saying a word, fell fast asleep and began to sound +such fanfares with their noses as Master Porker makes with his +snout.</p> +<p>Then the poor women might thump them, cuff them, call their names as +they would, to get them to sing their bedfellows a different sort of +song, but all quite in vain: as well beat water to get fire out of +it.</p> +<p>They awoke only with cock-crow, but their temper in the morning was +so rough and stormy that none of their womenfolk (that is to say, of +such as were not asleep from weariness) dared say a word, either then +or at the dinner-hour. All this was brought about by the evil power and +influence of the deviling.</p> +<p>On that account there was much sadness among the women, who said, +all of them, that if such a state of things went on for long the race +of the people of Uccle must needs become extinct, which would be a +great pity. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb14" href="#pb14" name= +"pb14">14</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VII.</span> Of the Great +Parliament of the Women of Uccle.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">So it came about that the women decided between +themselves to save the village from this fate, and to this end, while +their menfolk were at drink with Pieter Gans, they met together at the +house of a certain dame Syske, who was big, fat, loud-speaking, had +hair upon her chin, and had buried five husbands, or else seven, I dare +not particularize the number for fear of untruth.</p> +<p>There, as a rebuke to their drunken husbands, they quenched their +thirst with clear water.</p> +<p>When all were present, the younger ones assembled on this side and +the older on that, the ugly ones among the older, dame Syske opened the +talk by saying that they must all go forthwith to <i>The Horn</i>, and +there give these drinkers such a drubbing that they would be stiff and +sore for a week because of it.</p> +<p>The old and ugly ones applauded this proposal with their hands, +their feet, their mouths, and their noses. There was a fine noise, you +may well believe.</p> +<p>But the young and pretty ones kept silent as fishes, all save one, +very pretty, very fresh and very neat, bearing the name of Wantje, who +said very modestly, and blushing somewhat, that it was of no use to +belabour their worthy men in this fashion, but rather they must bring +them back to good ways by gentleness and laughter.</p> +<p>To this the dame Syske replied: “Little one, thou canst +understand nothing of men, for thou art but a maid, or so I believe. +For my part I know well enough how I managed my several husbands, and +that was neither by gentleness nor by laughter, I promise thee. They +are all dead, the worthy men (may God rest their souls!), but I +remember them clearly, and know very well that at the least wrongdoing +I made them dance the stick-dance on the field of obedience. None dared +eat or drink, sneeze or yawn, unless I had first given him leave. +Little Job Syske, my last, did my cooking for me in my own house. He +made a good cook, poor little <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb15" href= +"#pb15" name="pb15">15</a>]</span>man. But I had to give him many good +beatings to bring him to that, and so it was with the others as well. +Therefore, little one, give up all these laughters and gentlenesses of +thine, they are not worth much, I can tell thee. Let us rather go +forthwith and cut ourselves good staves of greenwood, easy enough to +find now that it is spring-time, and going off to <i>The Horn</i> let +us make fall a good shower of blows on these unfaithful +husbands.<span class="corr" id="xd20e665" title= +"Not in source">”</span></p> +<p>At this the old and ugly ones broke out afresh into monstrous howls +and tumult, crying, “Out upon them! out on the drunkards! They +want a good drubbing, they want a good hanging!”</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VIII.</span> Of the great wit +which every woman has, and of the modest conversation which the maid +Wantje held with the worthies at the inn.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">On the morrow all these good women met together once +again, and drank as before a great quantity of clear water; and +afterwards went off, armed with sticks, to the place where they knew +their men were to be found.</p> +<p>Before the door of <i>The Horn</i> they stopped, and there a great +council took place. The old ones wanted to go in with their sticks.</p> +<p>“No,” said Wantje, with the young and pretty ones, +“we would rather be beaten ourselves.”</p> +<p>“Hark to these sillies!” cried the old ones, +“these poor silly things. They have not an ounce of pride in +their bodies, between the lot of them. Be guided by us, gentle ewekins: +we will avenge the dignity of women for you upon these wretched +drunkards.”</p> +<p>“That you shall not,” said the young ones, “as +long as we are there.”</p> +<p>“That we shall,” howled the old ones.</p> +<p>But here a certain young and merry wife burst out laughing.</p> +<p>“See ye not,” said she, “whence comes to these +grannies <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb16" href="#pb16" name= +"pb16">16</a>]</span>so great a rage and such a thirst for vengeance? +’Tis simple bragging, to make us believe that their old croakers +of husbands still care to sing them songs.”</p> +<p>At these words the old hags were thrown into such a state of fury +that one or two died of rage there and then. Others, having quite lost +their heads, wanted to kill the maids and young wives who were laughing +at them (and ’twas pretty music, all those fresh and merry +voices), but the dame Syske stopped them from that, saying that for the +present they must take counsel together and not kill one another.</p> +<p>Continuing their discussion, they quarrelled, argued, chattered, +jabbered in this and like fashion until curfew-time, when they +separated without having made up their minds to anything, by reason of +not having had time enough to talk it over.</p> +<p>And there were spoken in this assembly of women more than +877,849,002 words, each one as full of good sense as a cellarful of old +wine.</p> +<p>Pieter Gans, who, as they said, had rabbit’s ears, hearing in +the street a certain hum of chattering voices, cried out: “Alas, +alas! what is this now? Devils for a certainty, dear Jesus!”</p> +<p>“I will go and see, little coward,” answered Blaeskaek. +But on opening the door he burst out laughing all at once, saying: +“Brothers, ’tis our wives.”</p> +<p>Thereupon all the drinkers rose and went to the door; some with +bottles in their hands, others brandishing flagons, others again +clinking their mugs together like church bells. Blaeskaek went out of +the room, crossed the threshold of the outer door, and stepped into the +street.</p> +<p>“Well, wives,” said he, “what brings you here with +all this greenwood?”</p> +<p>At these words the young ones let fall their sticks to the ground, +for they were ashamed to be caught with such weapons.</p> +<p>But one old woman, brandishing hers in the air, answered +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb17" href="#pb17" name= +"pb17">17</a>]</span>for the others: “We come, drunkards, to tell +you the tale of the stick, and give you a good thrashing.”</p> +<p>“Woe, woe!” wept Pieter Gans, “that, I know, is my +grandmother’s voice.”</p> +<p>“So it is, scoundrel,” said the old woman.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the Brothers of the Cheerful Countenance, hearing all +this, shook their sides merrily with laughing, and Blaeskaek said: +“Then come in, come in, good wives, and let us see how you do +your drubbing. Are those good greenwood staves you have +brought?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they.</p> +<p>“I am glad of that. For our part we have ready for you some +good rods, well pickled in vinegar, which we use for whipping +disobedient boys. ’Twill doubtless give you all sweet pleasure to +feel their caresses, and so recall the days of your youth. Will you be +pleased to try them? We will give you plenty.”</p> +<p>But at these scoffing words the old women took fright and ran off as +fast as their legs would carry them, more particularly mother Syske, +making such terrible threats and noises as they went that they sounded +to those jolly Brothers like a flight of screeching crows passing down +the deserted streets.</p> +<p>The young ones stayed before the door of the inn, and ’twas +affecting to see them so humbly standing, gentle and submissive, +waiting for some kindly word from their husbands or sweethearts.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Blaeskaek, “do you please to come +in?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they all.</p> +<p>“Keep them out,” said Pieter Gans into Blaeskaek’s +ear, “keep them out, or they will go chattering to the priests +about the deviling, and we shall be burnt, my good friend.”</p> +<p>“I am deaf,” said Blaeskaek; “come in, my +dears.”</p> +<p>Thereupon entered all these good women, and took up <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb18" href="#pb18" name="pb18">18</a>]</span>their +places, some by their husbands, others by their sweethearts, and the +maids in a line on a bench modestly.</p> +<p>“Women,” said the drinkers, “you wish to join +us?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they.</p> +<p>“And to drink also?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they.</p> +<p>“And have not come here to tell us temperance +stories?”</p> +<p>“Nay,” said they, “we have come without any other +wish than to join our good husbands and sweethearts, and laugh with +them, if that may be, with God’s good will.”</p> +<p>“Those are certainly fair words,” said one old man, +“but I suspect beneath them some woman’s artifice or +other.”</p> +<p>But no one paid him any heed, for by this time the women were seated +all about the table, and you might hear this: “Drink this, pretty +sweet, ’tis a draught from heaven.” “Pour, neighbour, +pour, pour out some more of this sweet drink.” “Who is a +better man than I? I am the Duke; I have good wine and good +wife!” “Ho, there! broach a fresh cask of wine; we must +have the best there is to-day to pleasure these good dames.” +“Courage! I have drunk too much; I am going to conquer the moon. +But wait a little first. For the present I stay by this good wife of +mine. Kiss me, sweet.”</p> +<p>“This is not the place, before all these people,” the +women would answer. And with many caresses and pretty ways each said to +her man: “Come away home.”</p> +<p>They would indeed have been glad enough to go, all those good +drinkers, but did not dare do it, being shamefaced in this matter in +one another’s presence.</p> +<p>Guessing as much, the women talked of going back.</p> +<p>“There, there!” said the old man, “is not that +what I said. They want to have us outside.”</p> +<p>“Nay, my masters,” said Wantje very sweetly, “but +I pray you remember that we are not accustomed to such strong drinks, +nor even to their smell. Therefore, master, if we feel the need to go +out into the fresh air ’tis assuredly <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb19" href="#pb19" name="pb19">19</a>]</span>without +wanting to anger or sadden you in any way whatsoever. May God keep you +merry, brothers.”</p> +<p>And thereupon the good women went off, though the men tried to keep +them back by force.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">IX.</span> Wherein it is seen +that the learned Thomas a Klapperibus knew what makes a drinker fidget +on his stool.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Left thus to their pots and tankards they turned to +one another in wonder, saying: “Ah, look ye at these dames! Does +it not always fall out in this wise; that they would have us do +whatever they bid, and that with humility! Submissive they seem, +tyrants they are. But look ye, is it to male or female that belongs +properly the right of command in all matters? To the male. We are the +males. Very well, then, let us drink! And we will at all times carry +out our own wishes, which will presently be to sleep here in this inn, +if we please.”</p> +<p>After this fashion they talked together for some time, feigning +great anger, but being, in fact, eager enough to go and join their +wives. By and by they fell silent, and so remained for a while, some +yawning, others drumming tunes on the floor with their boots, others +again, and these many, fidgeting on their seats, as if they were on +sharp thorns.</p> +<p>Suddenly a young townsman, but lately married, got up and left the +hall, saying that by the advice of a leech he was forbidden to drink +more than six-and-twenty mugs of ale, which number he had already +taken.</p> +<p>After he had gone they all began to excuse themselves, one with a +pain in his stomach, another with a headache, others with a melancholy +feeling or with the phlegm, and made off to their homes, excepting only +one or two among the older men.</p> +<p>And when they were once outside they hurried with all speed to join +their wives. Thus was borne out what was written by the learned +<i>Thomas a Klapperibus</i> in his great <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb20" href="#pb20" name="pb20">20</a>]</span>work <i>De Amore</i>, c. +vi, wherein it is said, that woman has more power than the devil.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">X.</span> Of the brigand +called Irontooth.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">But this thing never happened but once; for on the +morrow when the drinkers were carousing at <i>The Horn</i> the good +women who came thither to entice them away a second time were driven +off in a shameful manner.</p> +<p>And as for the men, they continued to drink and to shout hilarious +carols.</p> +<p>Several times the night-watchman of the town came in to warn them +against making so much noise after the sun was set. Ha, they listened +to him with all respect, and seemed quite abashed and repentant at +their fault; each one said his <i>mea culpa</i>; and in the meantime +they gave the poor watchman so abundantly to drink that when he got +outside he went off straight away to do his round leaning against some +wall, and there snoring like a bass-viol. The others continued their +drinking bouts and heavy slumbering, whereof the unhappy wives never +ceased to complain. And so on, in this fashion, for a month and four +days.</p> +<p>Now by great misfortune the good Duke had lately been at war with my +Lord of Flanders, and although peace had been made between them there +remained afoot a band of lewd and ribald scoundrels, who went about +ravishing all the countryside and robbing the townsfolk.</p> +<p>This same band was commanded by a savage captain, to whom was given +the name of Irontooth, because on the top of his casque he wore a +single spike, sharp and cruel, like the tooth of some devil or of one +of the unicorns of hell, cut out into fantastic shape. In battle he +would sometimes put down his head and use this tooth as a wild boar +uses his tusks. In this manner were slain many brave soldiers of the +duchy of Brabant. On this same casque he carried also an evil bird +whose wings beat against the steel, whereof it was said that it +screeched in battle in a terrible fashion. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb21" href="#pb21" name="pb21">21</a>]</span></p> +<p>It was Irontooth’s custom to come at night to the villages on +which he was minded to carry out his forays, butchering without mercy +the poor townsfolk in their sleep, and carrying off jewels, plate, +women, and maids, but of these last only the young ones. As for the old +women, he left them their lives, saying that it was not worth the while +of killing them, for they would certainly die of fright by +themselves.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XI.</span> In which it is +seen how bravely the good wives of Uccle did the duty of men.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">It came about that one night when only a few stars +were showing, and the moon shining a little, there came to Uccle a +certain Master André Bredael, running as hard as he could and +quite out of breath.</p> +<p>He brought this news: that being by chance behind a bush on the road +to Paris, he had seen a troop of men go past, whom he thought to be the +Irontooth’s, for he had seen among them a spiked casque like that +which the great brigand was wont to wear.</p> +<p>While these men were halted by the roadside, and munching some food, +he overheard them say that they were bound that night for Uccle, where +they hoped to get good sport and fair plunder, but they said also that +they must leave the high road and travel by small lanes, so that their +passage should not be discovered. Master Bredael thought it most likely +that they would debouch behind the church.</p> +<p>Having learned so much he had hurried to Uccle by the Paris road, +outdistancing the brigands by a good half-league, so that he might warn +the townsmen to arms, and prepare a strong reception for these +unwelcome travellers.</p> +<p>And arriving there he hastened to the door of the prefecture and +knocked loudly, so that the warning bell might be set ringing at once; +but none came to open to him, for the good reason that the custodian, +being one of the Brothers of the Cheerful Countenance, was fast asleep, +like all the other drinkers. André Bredael then sought other +means of alarum, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb22" href="#pb22" name= +"pb22">22</a>]</span>and shouted out so loudly: “Fire! fire! +<i lang="nl">Brand! brand!</i>” that all the women and old men, +and children who were too young to drink, leapt out of bed and ran to +their windows to see what was going forward.</p> +<p>André Bredael made himself known to them and begged them to +come down into the square, which they did with all dispatch. When they +were all gathered round him he told them of the coming of Irontooth, +and bade them go and wake their husbands.</p> +<p>At these words the older women began to shout as if mad: +“Welcome to Irontooth, God’s tooth in good deed, come to +rip them all open! Ha, drinkers! now we shall see you, as a punishment +from heaven, either hanged short or burnt alive or drowned without +respite; and ’tis no more than your sins deserve!” Then, as +if they had wings to their feet, they flew into their houses, and there +Master Bredael, who stayed with the younger women in the square, heard +the enraged old hags shouting, whining, weeping, vociferating, thumping +on chests and frying-pans, in an attempt to awaken their good men. At +the same time they cried in their ears: “Scoundrels, wake up! +Sweet friends, come and protect us! Drunkards, do your duty for once in +your accursed lives! Dear fellows, do you wish to find us dead by +morning? Bear us no malice for our talk of thrashing you. We were +foolish just then, and too hasty; ye were wise. But save us in this +pass!” And so on, mixing together smooth and bitter words, like +milk and vinegar.</p> +<p>But none of the men stirred.</p> +<p>“What is this?” said Master Bredael.</p> +<p>“Alas, master,” said the young women, “’tis +as you see; they are as good as dead the night through, and so has it +been a while past. If the angel of God himself were to come he would +scarce be able to rouse them. Ah, must it be that after having left us +lonely so long these wicked husbands will now leave us to die!” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb23" href="#pb23" name= +"pb23">23</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Do not weep,” said André Bredael, “this is +no time for that. Do you love these husbands of yours?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they.</p> +<p>“And your sons?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they.</p> +<p>“And your little daughters, so sweet and winsome?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they.</p> +<p>“And you are ready to defend them as best you can?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they.</p> +<p>“Well, then,” said Bredael, “go and fetch your +men’s bows and come back here with them as quickly as you can. We +will think of some way to defend ourselves.”</p> +<p>Soon enough the women were back again, armed with bows which they +had taken from their husbands, brothers, or sweethearts. These bows of +Uccle were of great renown throughout the land, for they were as strong +as steel, and winged their arrows with very great speed.</p> +<p>With them came certain boys of twelve years old, or not much more, +and one or two brave old men, but the women sent them back again +indoors, saying that they must stay behind and look to the village.</p> +<p>The good womenfolk then collected in a bunch in the square, talking +with great ardour and courage, but not too much bragging withal. Every +one was clad in a white gown, jacket, or shift, as is the customary +night apparel of women. But on this occasion it was by the special +favour of God that they were so clad, as you shall see by and by.</p> +<p>Wantje, who was one of their number, standing very bold and calm, +said suddenly that they must pray. Thereupon they all knelt devoutly, +and the maid spoke thus:</p> +<p>“Madam Mary the Virgin, who art queen of heaven as Madam the +Duchess is queen of this country, give an ear to these poor wives and +maids, humbly kneeling before you, who by reason of the drunkenness of +their husbands and brothers must needs take on themselves men’s +duty and arm themselves to fight. If you will but make a small prayer +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb24" href="#pb24" name= +"pb24">24</a>]</span>to My Lord Jesus to give us his aid we shall be +sure enough of victory. And we will give you as thanksgiving a fair +crown of gold, with rubies, turquoises and diamonds in its rim, a fair +golden chain, a fair robe of brocade spangled over with silver, and the +same to My Lord your son. Therefore pray for us, Madam Mary.”</p> +<p>And all the other good maids and wives said after Wantje: +“Pray for us, Madam Mary.”</p> +<p>Suddenly, as they were rising from their knees, they saw a beautiful +bright star shoot from heaven to earth, not far from where they were. +This was, no doubt, an angel from the good God, who came down from +Paradise in this guise, to stand beside them and help them the more +surely.</p> +<p>Seeing the sign the good women took heart of grace, and Wantje spoke +further, saying:</p> +<p>“Madam the Virgin hearkens to us, ’tis certain. Let us +now proceed to the gate of the village, beside the church of Our Lord, +who dwells therein”—here all crossed +themselves—“to await with confidence the coming of the +Irontooth and his men. And when we see them near at hand let every +woman draw her bow, without speaking, nor moving in any way. Madam the +Virgin will guide the arrows.”</p> +<p>“Well spoken, brave maid,” said Master Bredael. +“Come, I see in those eyes of thine, so bright in the darkness, +the breath of God, which is a flame, alight in thy maid’s heart. +We must do as she says, good wives.”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” said they.</p> +<p>This woman’s army took up its place in line in the alley +behind the church.</p> +<p>After a while of waiting, wherein was much perplexity and anxiety, +they heard the sound of footfalls and voices, growing louder as they +listened, as of men on the march.</p> +<p>And Wantje said: “Madam Mary, they are coming; have pity on +us!”</p> +<p>Then a large body of men appeared before them, carrying lanterns. +And they heard a monstrous, husky, devil’s voice <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb25" href="#pb25" name="pb25">25</a>]</span>crying: +“Out, friends, out upon them! Loot for the Irontooth!”</p> +<p>But here suddenly all these good women let fly their arrows with +great precision, for though they themselves remained in darkness they +could see the brigands, all lit up by their lanterns, as clearly as in +daylight. Two hundred of the men fell at the first volley, some with +arrows in their skulls, others in their necks, and several with them in +their bellies.</p> +<p>The Irontooth himself was among the first that the good women heard +fall with a great thud, from an arrow let fly by Wantje, which pierced +him through the eyeball neatly.</p> +<p>Some were not wounded at all, but, having troubled conscience, +thought when they saw all these white figures that ’twas the +souls of those whom they had made pass from life into death, come back +by God’s grace to avenge themselves upon them. So they fell on +their faces in the dust, as if dead from fear, crying out in a most +piteous manner: “Mercy, Lord God! send back to hell all these +ghosts, we pray you.”</p> +<p>But when they saw the good wives bearing down on them fear put +strength into their legs, and they made off as fast as they would carry +them.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XII.</span> Wherein Pieter +Gans is nearer the stake than the wine-barrel.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">When the enemy had been so far discomfited the women +came back into the square and stood before the prefecture, not feeling +any glory, but rather sadness at having had to shed Christian blood in +this manner. Ah, they returned thanks with a full heart to Our Lady the +Virgin and Our Lord Jesus, who had given them the victory.</p> +<p>Nor did they forget in their thanksgiving the good angel who had +come to their assistance in the form of a bright star. And they sang +fair hymns and litanies very sweetly.</p> +<p>Meanwhile all the cocks in the countryside awoke one by <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb26" href="#pb26" name="pb26">26</a>]</span>one and +heralded with their clarions the new day about to dawn.</p> +<p>And at that call, all the drinkers were roused from sleep, and ran +to their doors to find out whence came this sweet music.</p> +<p>And my lord the Sun laughed in the sky.</p> +<p>And the worthy men came out into the square, and some of them, when +they saw their wives in the assembly, were all for beating them because +they had left their beds; but André Bredael interposed and told +them the whole story. Thereupon they were all amazed, ashamed, and +repentant, seeing how well these brave petticoats had striven on their +behalf. Pieter Gans, Blaeskaek, and Father Claessens, Dean of Uccle, a +most saintly man, also came out into the square.</p> +<p>Thereupon, seeing all this crowd assembled, Master Bredael spoke +thus:</p> +<p>“Friends,” said he, “you hear how that ’tis +through the valour of your wives and daughters alone that you are not +by this time sniffing the air of heaven. Therefore ’tis seemly +that here and now you should promise, and take oath to it, not to drink +any more except by their wish.”</p> +<p>“That is all very well, Master Bredael,” said one of the +townsmen, “but ’tis not plain drinking that puts us all +into so deep a sleep. I speak of these things with knowledge, I who +have drunk wine freely all my life, and hope still so to do with relish +to the end of my days. There is something else to it, devilry and evil +spells, or so I think. Come hither, Pieter Gans, come hither and talk +to us somewhat, and if thou know anything, bring light to this dark +matter.”</p> +<p>“Alas, alas!” said Pieter Gans, his head wagging and his +teeth chattering (for he was afraid, poor fellow), “alas, alas! I +know nothing, my good friends.”</p> +<p>“Nay,” said the man, “but thou dost know something +of it, for I see thy head shaking and thy teeth chattering.”</p> +<p>But at this point the Dean confronted Gans:</p> +<p>“Wicked Christian,” said he, “I can see well +enough <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb27" href="#pb27" name= +"pb27">27</a>]</span>thou hast had commerce with the devil, to the +great despite of all these good men. Confess thy sin with all humility, +and we will accord thee such grace as may be, but if thou deny it, thou +shalt be punished with hot oil.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Pieter Gans in tears, “’tis as I +said; I shall be burnt, dear God! Blaeskaek, where art thou, my good +friend? Give me thy help. Alas, alas!”</p> +<p>But Blaeskaek had gone off in a hurry from fear of the holy +Fathers.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Pieter Gans, “see how the traitor +deserts me when danger threatens!”</p> +<p>“Speak,” said the very reverend Father.</p> +<p>“Yes, Master Dean,” said Pieter Gans, weeping and +wailing, “I will tell you the whole story, without keeping back +anything.... Master!” he cried when he had come to the end of his +recital, “if you will not punish me too heavily, Master, I will +give all my poor savings as a perpetual gift to the Church. I am a true +Christian, that I vow, and no heretic. Moreover, I wish not to die +until I have had sufficient time to do long and full penance. But have +me not boiled in oil before I have had that time, I beg of +you.”</p> +<p>“As to that,” answered the Dean, “we shall see. +Now take us to the place where this devil is to be seen.”</p> +<p>By that time they were close to the church, and the priest went in +to get therefrom some holy water before they started. Then all the men, +women, and children of the village took their way to <i>The +Horn.</i></p> +<p>There the Dean demanded to see what had been the cause of those +wicked spells which had been cast over so many worthy men, and Pieter +Gans, with all humility, showed him the deviling, still smiling and +holding his staff of vine-branches in his hand. And all the women, +after looking at him for some time, said that he was very comely for a +devil.</p> +<p>The priest first crossed himself, then, dipping his fingers in the +holy water, anointed therewith the brow, breast, and belly of the +statue, which thereupon, by the grace of God, <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb28" href="#pb28" name="pb28">28</a>]</span>crumbled +into dust, and a sorrowful voice was heard saying: “<span lang= +"gr-latn">Oi moi, ô phôs, tethnêka!</span>”</p> +<p>And these words of the devil were explained by the priest to +signify, in the Greek tongue: “Woe is me! Light! I +die!”</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XIII.</span> Of the great +wonder and astonishment of My Lord the Duke when he heard of the valour +of the women of Uccle.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">In the meantime the village sent to the Duke two +trusty men, with a message to that high prince informing him in due +order all that had occurred. These men met him already on his way to +Uccle, for he had learnt by his runners the Irontooth’s design, +and knowing full well where he would find him was coming against him at +all speed with a strong force of horsemen.</p> +<p>As soon as the messengers saw who it was coming along the road they +went down on their knees, but the good Duke would have none of this, +and made them rise and walk at his stirrup.</p> +<p>Before they had gone far they reached the scene of the +brigands’ discomfiture. At the sight of all those heaped-up +bodies the Duke halted, greatly astonished and no less pleased. +“And who,” quoth he, “has slain all these scoundrels +in this wise?”</p> +<p>“Our womenfolk,” said one of the messengers.</p> +<p>“What is this thou’rt telling me?” said the Duke +with a frown.</p> +<p>“Before God, My Lord,” said the man, “I will tell +you the whole story.”</p> +<p>And so he did.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the Duke when he had done, “who would +have thought it of these good wives? I will reward them well for +it.”</p> +<p>So saying he caused the casque of the Irontooth to be taken up and +carried away. This casque was to be seen for many years in the armoury +of My Lord Charles, who had it guarded with the utmost care. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb29" href="#pb29" name= +"pb29">29</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XIV.</span> In what manner +was instituted the Order of the Women-Archers of Uccle and of the fine +reward which My Lord gave to the brave maid Wantje.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">On entering Uccle the good Duke saw coming towards him +a large body of people, and in their midst a man crying out in a most +piteous voice: “Master! Master Priest! let me not be +boiled!” To which the answer was: “We shall see.”</p> +<p>“Whence comes all this noise?” said the Duke.</p> +<p>But as soon as Pieter Gans saw who it was he ran towards him and +threw his arms round his horse’s legs. “My Lord,” he +cried, “My Lord Duke, let me not be boiled!”</p> +<p>“And why,” said the Duke, “should they boil one of +my good men of Uccle?”</p> +<p>But the very reverend Father Claessens, stepping forward, told him +the whole story with great indignation, while Pieter Gans continued to +blubber alongside in a most melancholy fashion. And thereon followed +such confusion, with the one weeping and groaning, the other denouncing +and syllogizing, and each so vehemently, that the good Duke could not +tell which to listen to.</p> +<p>Suddenly Wantje came forward out of the press, and, like Pieter +Gans, cried: “Mercy and pity!”</p> +<p>“My Lord,” said the maid, “this man has sinned +greatly against God, but only from simpleness of mind and a natural +cowardice. The devil frightened him; he submitted to the devil. Pardon +him, My Lord, for our sakes.”</p> +<p>“Maid,” said the Duke, “that was well spoken, and +’tis to thee I will hearken.”</p> +<p>But the very reverend Father: “My Lord,” said he, +“forgets to think of God.”</p> +<p>“Father,” said the Duke, “I am not forgetful of +that duty. Nevertheless I think he takes little pleasure in watching +Christian fat smoke or a good man’s flesh boil, but likes rather +to see men gentle and kind, and not giving their fellows penance to do. +And on this day when Our Lady the Virgin has deigned to perform a +miracle for our sakes <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb30" href="#pb30" +name="pb30">30</a>]</span>I will not sadden her mother’s heart by +the death of a Christian. Therefore none of the accused, neither this +Pieter Gans nor any other there may be, shall this time go to the +stake.”</p> +<p>On hearing this Pieter Gans burst out laughing like a madman, and +began to dance and sing, crying out the while: “Praise to My +Lord! I am not to be boiled. Brabant to the Good Duke!” And all +the townsfolk called out after him: “Praise to My +Lord!”</p> +<p>Then the Duke bade them be silent, and smiling:</p> +<p>“Well, dames,” said he, “who have this night done +man’s work so valiantly, come hither that I may give you a +man’s reward. First of all, to the bravest one among you I give +this great chain of gold. Which is she?”</p> +<p>The good women pushed Wantje forward before the Duke.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said he, “’tis thee, sweet pleader. +Wilt kiss me, though I be old?”</p> +<p>“Yes, My Lord,” said the maid. And so she did, +notwithstanding that she was a little shamefaced over it.</p> +<p>And the good Duke, having hung the chain round her neck, spoke +further in this wise:</p> +<p>“As for you all, good dames, who have this night so gallantly +carried arms, I institute among you a most honourable Order, under the +protection of Madam Mary the Virgin, and I direct that there shall be +set up in this place a staff of a good length, and that each Sunday you +shall come together here and draw the bow in archery, in memory of the +time when with those bows you saved the lives of your husbands and +children. And there shall be a fair crown of laurel and a fair purseful +of golden <i>peters</i>, bright and new, to be awarded annually to the +best archer of the year, and brought to her on a cushion by all the +others together. And this purse will dower her if she be a maid, or, if +she be a wife, will stand her in good stead against a time of +famine.”</p> +<p>In this manner was instituted the Order of Women-Archers of Uccle, +who still draw the bow like men every Sunday, under the protection of +Our Lady the Virgin. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb33" href="#pb33" +name="pb33">33</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div id="ch2" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h2 class="main">The Three Sisters</h2> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">I.</span> Of the three noble +ladies and their great beauty.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">In the year of Our Lord Jesus Christ 690, lived three +maidens, descended, by male issue, from the noble line of the great +emperor Octavian.</p> +<p>Their names were Blanche, Claire, and Candide.</p> +<p>Though they had dedicated the flower of their maidenhead to God, it +is not to be supposed that this was for lack of lovers.</p> +<p>For, on every day that passed, a crowd of people used to collect for +nothing else than to see them go by on their way to church, and +onlookers would say of them: “See what gentle eyes, see what +white hands!”</p> +<p>More than one, besides, with his mouth watering to look at them, +would say sorrowfully: “Must it be that such sweet maids as these +should dedicate themselves to God, who has eleven thousand or more in +his Paradise already.”</p> +<p>“But none so fair,” answered an old wheezing merchant +behind them, who was drinking in the fragrance of their dresses.</p> +<p>And going off on his way, if the old man saw any young fellow +loafing by the roadside, or lying on his belly in the grass to warm his +back in the sun, he would give him a kick in the ribs, saying: +“Well now, dost thou care nothing to see the finest flowers of +beauty that were ever blowing?”</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">II.</span> How a prince of +Araby was taken with love for the youngest sister, and what came of +it.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Not a few young men tried to win them in marriage, but +failing in this endeavour, turned moody and pined visibly away.</p> +<p>Among them was a certain prince of Araby, who had himself baptized +with great ceremony. And this for the sake of the youngest sister +solely. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb34" href="#pb34" name= +"pb34">34</a>]</span></p> +<p>But, failing to attain his end, either by pleading or by force, set +himself one morning before her door, and there let himself fall on his +sword.</p> +<p>The maid, hearing this fair lord cry out, came down in haste and had +him carried in and laid on her own bed; whereat (for he was not quite +dead) he found great solace.</p> +<p>And when she bent over him to bathe and dress his wound, he roused +what force he had left in him, kissed her on her red mouth, sighed like +a man delivered from torment, and so gave up his soul happily.</p> +<p>But the maid was not at all pleased at this kiss, for she considered +it a dishonour to her divine husband Jesus. Nevertheless she wept for +the fair lord, a little.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">III.</span> Wherein it is +seen how Satan persecutes those ladies who seek to escape from the +world.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">There were oftentimes a great crowd of suitors before +the dwelling of the three ladies, some of them sighing laments, others +prancing up and down on fine horses, others without uttering a word, +but only looking up at the windows all the day long.</p> +<p>And oftentimes these men would fight together and kill one another, +from jealousy. At this the ladies were saddened exceedingly.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the two elder to their sister, “pray +for us, white Blanche, white of soul and white of body, pray for us, +little one. Jesus listens readily to the prayers of such maids as thou +art.”</p> +<p>“My sisters,” answered she, “I am less worthy than +you, but I will pray, if you so wish it.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said they.</p> +<p>Then the three sisters knelt down, and the youngest prayed in this +manner:</p> +<p>“Kind Jesus, we have sinned against you assuredly, else you +would not have let our beauty so touch these wicked <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb35" href="#pb35" name="pb35">35</a>]</span>men. +Yes, we have indeed sinned, but, weaklings that we are, despite +ourselves, Lord. Ah, grant us pardon for our great sorrow. You would +have us for your own, and so indeed we have kept ourselves: our youth +and beauty, mirth and sadness, vows and prayers, souls and bodies, +thoughts and deeds, everything. In the morning, at noon, and at +vesper-time, at all hours and all moments, do we not have you in our +minds? When your bright sun rises, O beloved, and no less when your +bright stars shine in your heaven, they can see us at prayer, and +offering to you, not gold, frankincense, or myrrh, but our humble loves +and our poor hearts. That is not enough, we know well. Dear one, teach +us to do more.”</p> +<p>Pausing here they sighed sorrowfully, all three.</p> +<p>“Kind Jesus,” went on the youngest sister, “we +know well enough the desire of these men. They think themselves brave +and handsome, and hope on this account to capture our love, but they +are neither handsome, nor brave, nor good, as you are, Jesus. And yours +we are and shall be always, and theirs never. Will you please to love +us also a little, for you alone are our comfort and joy in this sad +world, Jesus? We will not be unfaithful to you in anything. Ah, let us +rather die quickly, for we hunger and thirst for you. If you will, let +these evil men continue to pursue us with their loves, ’twill be +but delight to suffer it for your sake. Nevertheless, the mortal +husband leaves not his wife in danger, nor the betrothed his bride. Are +you not better than they, and will you not keep us also from the snares +of the enemy? If it be not pleasing to you, do nothing, but then it may +be that one day some one will steal from us our virginity, which is +yours only. Ah, dear beloved, rather let us pass our lives old, ugly, +leprous, and then descend into purgatory, among devils, flame, and +brimstone, there to wait until you deem us pure enough at length to +take us into your Paradise, where we shall be allowed to see you and +love you for ever. Have pity upon us. Amen.” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb36" href="#pb36" name="pb36">36</a>]</span></p> +<p>And having spoken thus, the poor child wept, and her sisters with +her, saying: “Pity, Jesus, pity.”</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">IV.</span> Of the voice of +the divine bridegroom, and of the horseman in silvern armour.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Suddenly they heard a low voice saying: “Take +heart.”</p> +<p>“Hark,” they said, “the husband deigns to speak to +his brides.”</p> +<p>And presently the room was filled with a perfume more delicate than +that of a censer burning finest frankincense.</p> +<p>Then the voice spake further: “To-morrow,” it said, +“when dawn breaks, go out from the town. Mount your palfreys, +and, riding without halt, follow the road without heeding whither it +leads. I will guide you.”</p> +<p>“We will obey you,” they said, “for you have made +us the happiest of the daughters of men.”</p> +<p>And rising from their knees, they kissed one another joyfully.</p> +<p>While the voice was speaking to them, there had come into the square +a beautiful horseman in silvern armour, with a golden helm on his head, +and, flying above that like a bird, a crest more brilliant than a +flame. The horse whereon he rode was of pure white.</p> +<p>None of those there had seen him coming, and he was as if risen from +the ground among the crowd of lovers, who, seized with fear, dared not +look him in the face.</p> +<p>“Rascals,” quoth he, “take these horses away out +of the square. Do you not know that the noise of their hooves troubles +these three ladies in their prayers?”</p> +<p>And therewith he rode away towards the east.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the lovers to one another, “saw you +that silvern armour and that flaming crest? ’Twas an angel of God +assuredly, come from Paradise for the sake of these three +ladies.” The more insistent among them muttered: “He did +not forbid us to stand on foot before the door, and in that wise we may +yet remain with impunity.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb37" +href="#pb37" name="pb37">37</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">V.</span> How, by the command +of God, the three ladies rode to adventure.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">On the morrow, therefore, before daylight, the suitors +returned once again in great numbers, but first left their horses +behind them in their stables. Soon after daybreak they saw the three +ladies ride out from their courtyard, in obedience to the command which +God had given them, each one mounted upon her palfrey. Supposing that +they were but going out into the neighbouring meadows to take the clean +air, they followed behind, one and all, singing merry carols in their +honour.</p> +<p>For so long as they were in the streets of the town the palfreys +moved slowly, but once out in the open country they began +galloping.</p> +<p>The lovers tried still to follow them, but at last were forced to +drop off, and fell one by one along the wayside.</p> +<p>When they had covered some miles the palfreys stood still; and the +three ladies, seeing that they had come free of their pursuers, +resolved to give honour to God for his aid, and to this end to build +him a fair church.</p> +<p>Where? They did not know. But the thing was already decided in +Paradise, as you shall see.</p> +<p>For as soon as they were once again on their horses, the animals, +guided by God’s holy spirit, set off at a high trot.</p> +<p>And leapt rivers, threaded forests, passed through towns, whereof +the gates opened of themselves to let them by, and closed again after, +bounded over walls and like obstacles.</p> +<p>And startled every one they met, all amazed to see go by, quick as +the wind, these three white horses and these three fair ladies.</p> +<p>And travelled in this way for a thousand leagues, or rather +more.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VI.</span> Of the diamond +hammers, and foundations torn up from the ground.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">At Haeckendover, in the duchy of Brabant, the palfreys +stood still once again, and neighed. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb38" href="#pb38" name="pb38">38</a>]</span></p> +<p>And would not go one step forward, nor back.</p> +<p>For this was where God had chosen to have his church.</p> +<p>But the ladies, supposing that they had stopped there because they +were tired, went on as far as Hoy-Bout on foot, and there determined to +start building.</p> +<p>Therefore they sent for the most skilful workers in stone, and +master-builders also, in so great number that at the end of one day the +foundations were two hands’ breadth high in the lowest part.</p> +<p>And seeing this good beginning the ladies rejoiced greatly, and +supposed their work agreeable to God.</p> +<p>But on the morrow, alas, found all the stones torn up out of the +ground.</p> +<p>Thinking that by chance some traitor heretic had been buried in that +place, who at night shook down the stones of their church with the +trembling of his accursed bones, they removed to Steenen-Berg with +their workmen, and there started afresh in the same manner as at +Hoy-Bout.</p> +<p>But on the morrow morning found the walls once again out of the +ground.</p> +<p>For the Lord Jesus was minded to be worshipped more particularly at +Haeckendover.</p> +<p>And sent, therefore, his angels by night, with hammers of diamond +from the workshops of Paradise.</p> +<p>And bade them tear down the work of the three ladies.</p> +<p>Therefore the sisters, greatly perplexed and wondering, went down on +their knees, praying God that he would tell them where he wished to +have his church.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VII.</span> Of the youngest +sister and the beautiful angel.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">And suddenly they saw a young man, of a beauty more +than earthly, clad in a robe of the colour of the setting sun.</p> +<p>Kindly he looked at them.</p> +<p>Knowing him for God’s angel, the three ladies fell on their +faces before him.</p> +<p>But the youngest, bolder than the others, as is the way <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb39" href="#pb39" name="pb39">39</a>]</span>with +children, dared to steal a look at the fair ambassador, and, seeing him +so comely, took heart and smiled.</p> +<p>The angel took her by the hand, saying to her and to her sisters: +“Come and follow me.”</p> +<p>This they did.</p> +<p>And thence they came to the spot where the church now stands, and +the angel said to them: “This is the place.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, My Lord,” said the youngest joyously.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VIII.</span> How the three +ladies saw a green island, with sweet flowers and birds thereon.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">At that time it was thirteen days past the feast of +the Kings; snow had fallen heavily and set hard in frost after, by +reason of a north wind which was blowing.</p> +<p>And the three ladies saw before them, among the snow, as it were a +green island.</p> +<p>And this island was girt about with a cord of purple silk.</p> +<p>And upon the island the air was fresh as in spring, and roses were +blowing, with violets and jessamine, whose smell is like balm.</p> +<p>But outside was naught but storm, north wind, and terrible cold.</p> +<p>Towards the middle, where now stands the grand altar, was a +holm-oak, covered with blossom as if it had been a Persian +jessamine.</p> +<p>In the branches, warblers, finches and nightingales sang to their +hearts’ content the sweetest songs of Paradise.</p> +<p>For these were angels, who had put on feathered guise, carolling in +this fashion in God’s honour.</p> +<p>One fair nightingale, the sweetest singer of them all, held in his +right claw a roll of parchment, whereon was written in letters of +gold:</p> +<p>“This is the place chosen by God and shown by him to the three +maidens for the building of a church to the glory of Our Lord and +Saviour Jesus Christ.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb40" href= +"#pb40" name="pb40">40</a>]</span></p> +<p>Great was the joy of the ladies at that sight, and the youngest said +to the angel:</p> +<p>“We see certainly that God loves us somewhat; what must we do +now, My Lord Angel?”</p> +<p>“Thou must build the church here, little one,” answered +the messenger, “and choose for this work twelve of the most +skilled workmen, neither more nor less; God himself will be the +thirteenth.”</p> +<p>And having said so much he returned to high heaven.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">IX.</span> Of the church of +Our Lord at Haeckendover, and of the strange mason who worked +there.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Then all three went off in haste to choose from among +the others the twelve good workmen who should set up the foundations of +the church where they had seen the cord of purple silk.</p> +<p>The work went on so well that it was a pleasure to see the stones +mounting up, straight and quickly.</p> +<p>But the miracle was this, that during the hours of labour the masons +were always thirteen in number, but at dinner and at paytime twelve +only.</p> +<p>For the Lord Jesus was pleased to work with the others, but neither +ate nor drank with them; he who in Paradise had such fine broth and +such sweet fruits, and wine from the fountain of Saphir, which is a +fountain giving forth without intermission wine of a richer yellow than +liquid gold itself.</p> +<p>Nor did he suffer for want of money; for that is an evil reserved to +us needy, piteous, and ill-faring mortals.</p> +<p>The building advanced so well that soon the bell was hung in the +tower as a sign that the church was finished.</p> +<p>Then the three maids entered in together; and, falling on her knees, +the youngest said:</p> +<p>“By whom, divine husband and beloved Jesus, shall we dedicate +this church built for your service?”</p> +<p>To which the Lord Jesus replied: “It is I Myself who +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb41" href="#pb41" name= +"pb41">41</a>]</span>will consecrate and dedicate this church; let none +come after me to consecrate it anew.”</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">X.</span> Of the two bishops, +and the withered hands.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">By and by two venerable bishops passed through +Haeckendover, and seeing the new church were minded to give it their +blessing.</p> +<p>They knew nothing of the words of Jesus to the three ladies, or they +would not have thought of such temerity.</p> +<p>But they were punished terribly none the less.</p> +<p>For as one of them was about to bless the water for this purpose he +became suddenly blind.</p> +<p>And the other, who was holding the holy water brush, when he lifted +his arms for the blessing, found them suddenly withered and stiffened, +so that he could no longer move them.</p> +<p>And perceiving that they had sinned in some way the two bishops were +filled with repentance and prayed to the Lord Jesus to pardon them.</p> +<p>And they were straightway pardoned, seeing that they had sinned in +ignorance.</p> +<p>And thereafter they came oftentimes most devoutly to Haeckendover. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb45" href="#pb45" name= +"pb45">45</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div id="ch3" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h2 class="main">Sir Halewyn</h2> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">I.</span> Of the two +castles.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Sir Halewyn lifted up his voice in a song.</p> +<p>And whatever maid heard that song must needs go to him straight +away.</p> +<p>And now to all good Flemings will I tell the tale of this Halewyn +and his song, and of the brave maid Magtelt.</p> +<p>There were two proud castles in the province of Flanders. In one +dwelt Sir Roel de Heurne, with the lady Gonde, his good wife; Toon the +Silent, his son; Magtelt, his fair daughter, and a host of pages, +grooms, varlets, men-at-arms, and all the other members of the +household, among whom an especial favourite was Anne-Mie, a girl of +gentle blood, maid to the lady Magtelt.</p> +<p>Of everything that was made by his peasants, Sir Roel took naught +but what was the best.</p> +<p>And the peasants said of him that it was a good master who took only +as much as he needed, when he might have left them with nothing.</p> +<p>In the other castle lived Sir Halewyn the Miserable, with his +father, brother, mother, and sister, and a large following of rascals +and brigands.</p> +<p>And these were an ill-favoured crew, I can tell you, past masters of +robbery, pillage, and murder, such as it is not good to meet at too +close quarters.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">II.</span> Of Dirk, called +the Crow.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">This family were issue by direct line of Dirk, the +first of the Halewyns, to whom was given the name of the Crow, because +he was as greedy of booty as a crow is of carrion.</p> +<p>And also because he was clad all in black, and his men with him.</p> +<p>This Dirk, who lived in the time of the great wars, was like a +thunderbolt in battle, where, with his only weapon, <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb46" href="#pb46" name="pb46">46</a>]</span>a heavy +club, furnished with a beak at one side, he broke javelins, splintered +lances, and tore away mail as if it had been cloth; and no one could +well resist his onslaught. And in this manner he so frightened his +enemies that when they saw Dirk and his black soldiers bearing down +upon them, shouting, yelling, without fear of any one, and in great +number, they gave themselves up for dead before ever battle was +joined.</p> +<p>When victory was won and the more important booty divided (whereof +Dirk always secured the lion’s share and never came off badly), +the other barons and their knights would leave the rest of the field to +him and his followers, and would go off, saying: “The pieces are +for the crow.”</p> +<p>No other man-at-arms would dare to stay behind then, or he would +have been quickly taken and slain without waiting. And thereafter +Dirk’s men would begin to play the crow in earnest; cutting off +fingers to get the rings on them, even of those not yet dead, who cried +out to them for succour; chopping off heads and arms so that they might +pull away clothes the more easily. And they even fought amongst +themselves, and sometimes killed one another, over the bodies of the +dead, for the sake of neck-pieces, straps of hide, or more paltry stuff +still.</p> +<p>And stayed sometimes on the battlefield over this business three +days and three nights.</p> +<p>When all the dead were stark naked they piled up their gains into +carts which they brought for this purpose.</p> +<p>And with these they returned to Dirk’s castle, there to hold +high revel and have good cheer. On the way they fought the peasants, +taking whatever women and girls were at all comely, and did with them +what they pleased. In this way they passed their lives fighting, +pillaging, robbing the helpless, and caring nothing at all for either +God or devil.</p> +<p>Dirk the Crow became exceedingly powerful and got very much worship, +both by reason of his prowess in battle and <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb47" href="#pb47" name="pb47">47</a>]</span>from the +fact that My Lord the Count gave him after his victories the demesne of +Halewyn, with powers of seigneury, both of the higher and the lower +order.</p> +<p>And he had a fine escutcheon made for himself, wherein was a crow +<i>sable</i> on a field <i>or</i>, with this device: <i>The pieces are +for the Crow.</i></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">III.</span> Of Sir Halewyn +and how he carried himself in his youth.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">But to this strong Crow were born children of a quite +other kind.</p> +<p>For they were all, strangely enough, men of the quill and +writing-desk, caring nothing for the fine arts of war, and despising +all arms.</p> +<p>These great clerks lost a good half of their heritage. For each year +some stronger neighbour would rob them of a piece of it.</p> +<p>And they begot puny and miserable children, with pale faces, who +passed their time, as clerks are wont, lurking in corners, sitting +huddled on stools, and whining chants and litanies in a melancholy +fashion.</p> +<p>Thus came to an end the good men of the line.</p> +<p>Siewert Halewyn, who was the wretch of whom I am to tell you this +tale, was as ugly, puny, woebegone, and sour-faced as the others, or +even worse than they.</p> +<p>And like them he was always lurking and hiding in corners, and +shirking company, hated the sound of laughter, sweated ill-humour, and, +moreover, was never seen to lift his head skywards like an honest man, +but was all the while looking down at his boots, wept without reason, +grumbled without cause, and never had any satisfaction in anything. For +the rest he was a coward and cruel, delighting during his childhood in +teasing, frightening and hurting puppies and kittens, sparrows, +thrushes, finches, nightingales, and all small beasts.</p> +<p>And even when he was older, he hardly dared to attack so large a +thing as a wolf, though he were armed with his <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb48" href="#pb48" name="pb48">48</a>]</span>great +sword. But as soon as the beast was brought down he would rain blows on +it with high valour.</p> +<p>So he went on until he was old enough to marry.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">IV.</span> How Sir Halewyn +wished to take himself a wife, and what the ladies and gentlewomen said +to it.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Then, since he was the oldest of the family, he was +sent off to the court of the Count, there to find himself a wife. But +every one laughed at him, on account of his marvellous ugliness, more +particularly the ladies and gentlewomen, who made fun of him among +themselves, saying:</p> +<p>“Look at this fine knight! What is he doing here? He has come +to marry us, I suppose.—Who would have him, for four castles, as +many manors, ten thousand peasants and half the gold in the province? +None.—And that is a pity, for between them they would get fine +children, if they were to be like their father!—Ho, what fine +hair he has, the devil must have limned it with an old nail; what a +fine nose, ’tis like a withered plum, and what fair blue eyes, so +marvellously ringed round with red.—See, he is going to cry! That +will be pretty music.”</p> +<p>And Sir Halewyn, hearing the ladies talk after this fashion, could +not find a word to answer them with, for between anger, shame, and +sorrow his tongue was fast stuck to the roof of his mouth.</p> +<p>Nevertheless he would take a lance at every tournament, and every +time would be shamefully overcome, and the ladies, seeing him fall, +would applaud loudly, crying out: “Worship to the ill-favoured +one! The old crow has lost his beak.” Thus they compared him, for +his shame, with Dirk, the old stock of the Halewyns, who had been so +mighty in his day. And, acclaimed in this fashion every time he +jousted, Sir Halewyn would go back from the field in sorrow to his +pavilion. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb49" href="#pb49" name= +"pb49">49</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">V.</span> How it came about +that Sir Halewyn, after a certain tournament, called upon the devil for +aid.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">At the third tournament wherein he was beaten there +were on the field his father, mother, brother, and sister.</p> +<p>And his father said:</p> +<p>“Well, look at my fine son, Siewert the soft, Siewert the +overthrown, Siewert the faint-heart, coming back from jousting with his +tail between his legs, like a dog thrashed with a great +stick.”</p> +<p>And his mother said:</p> +<p>“I suppose for certain that My Lord the Count has put a gold +chain round thy neck, and acclaimed thee publicly, for having so +valiantly in this jousting jousted on thy back, as in the old days my +lord of Beaufort was wont to make thee do. Holy God! that was a fine +tumble.”</p> +<p>And his sister said:</p> +<p>“Welcome, my fair brother, what news do you bring? Thou wert +the victor for certain, as I see from thy triumphant mien. But where is +the wreath of the ladies?”</p> +<p>And his brother said:</p> +<p>“Where is your lordly bearing, My Lord Siewert Halewyn the +elder, descendant of the Crow with the great beak? For such a Crow +vanquishes without much trouble eagles, goshawks, shrikes, gerfalcons, +sparrow-hawks. Are you not thirsty, my brother, with the thirst of a +baron, of a victor, I will not say of a villein? We have here some fine +frog’s wine, which will cool the fires of victory in your +belly.”</p> +<p>“Ha,” answered the Sire, grinding his teeth, “if +God gave me strength, I would make thee sing a different song Sir +Brother.”</p> +<p>And saying this, he pulled out his sword to do so, but the younger, +parrying his thrust, cried out:</p> +<p>“Bravo, uncrowlike Crow! Bravo, capon! Raise up our house, I +beg of thee, Siewert the victorious!”</p> +<p>“Ha,” said the Sire, “and why does this chatterer +not go and joust as well as I? But he would not dare, being +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb50" href="#pb50" name= +"pb50">50</a>]</span>that kind of coward who looks on at others, +folding his arms and making fun of those who strive.”</p> +<p>Then he dismounted from his horse, went off and hid himself in his +chamber, cried out to the four walls in a rage, prayed to the devil to +give him strength and beauty, and promised him, on the oath of a +knight, that he would give him his soul in exchange.</p> +<p>So he called on him all through the night, crying out, weeping, +bewailing his lot, minded at times even to kill himself. But the devil +did not come, being busy elsewhere.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VI.</span> Of the rovings and +wanderings of Sir Halewyn.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Every day after this, whether it were fair or foul, +light sky or dark, storm or gentle breeze, rain, snow, or hail, Sir +Halewyn wandered alone through the fields and woods.</p> +<p>And children, seeing him, ran away in fear.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said he, “I must be very ugly!” And he +went on with his wandering.</p> +<p>But if on his way he met some common man who had strength and +beauty, he would bear down on him and oftentimes kill him with his +sword.</p> +<p>And every one grew to shun him, and to pray to God that he would +soon remove their Lord from this world.</p> +<p>And every night, Sir Halewyn called on the devil.</p> +<p>But the devil would not come.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the Sire sorrowfully, “if thou wilt +only give me strength and beauty in this life, I will give thee my soul +in the other. ’Tis a good bargain.”</p> +<p>But the devil never came.</p> +<p>And he, restless, always in anguish and melancholy, was soon like an +old man to look at, and was given the name throughout the country of +the Ill-favoured Lord.</p> +<p>And his heart was swollen with hatred and anger. And he cursed God. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb51" href="#pb51" name= +"pb51">51</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VII.</span> Of the Prince of +the Stones and of the song.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">One day in the season of plum-picking, having roved +over the whole countryside, and even as far as Lille, on the way back +to his castle he passed through a wood. Ambling along he saw among the +undergrowth, alongside an oak, a stone which was of great length and +broad in proportion.</p> +<p>And he said: “That will make me a good seat, comfortable +enough to rest on for a little while.” And sitting down on the +stone he once again prayed to the devil to let him have health and +beauty.</p> +<p>By and by, although it was still daylight, and the small birds, +warblers and finches, sang in the woods joyously, and there was a +bright sun and a soft wind, Sir Halewyn went off to sleep, for he was +very tired.</p> +<p>Having slept until it was night, he was suddenly awakened by a +strange sound. And he saw, by the light of the high moon and the clear +stars, as it were a little animal, with a coat like a mossy stone, who +was scratching up the earth beneath the rock, now and again thrusting +his head into the hole he had made, as a dog does hunting moles.</p> +<p>Sir Halewyn, thinking it was some wild thing, hit at it with his +sword.</p> +<p>But the sword was broken at its touch, and a little mannikin of +stone leapt up on to his shoulders, and smote his cheeks sharply with +his hard hands, and said, wheezing and laughing:</p> +<p>“Seek, Siewert Halewyn; seek song and sickle, sickle and song; +seek, seek, ill-favoured one!”</p> +<p>And so saying he hopped about like a flea on the back of the +Miserable, who bent forward as he was bid, and with a piece of his +sword dug in the hole. And the stony cheek of the little mannikin was +alongside his own, and his two eyes lit up the hole better than +lanterns would have done.</p> +<p>And biting Halewyn’s flesh with his sharp teeth, striking him +with his little fists, and with his nails pinching and pulling him, and +laughing harshly, the little mannikin said: <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb52" href="#pb52" name="pb52">52</a>]</span>“I +am the Prince of the Stones, I have fine treasures; seek, seek, +Miserable!”</p> +<p>And saying this, he pommelled him beyond endurance. “He +wants,” he screamed, mocking him, “Siewert Halewyn wants +strength and beauty, beauty and strength; seek then, +Miserable.”</p> +<p>And he pulled out his hair in handfuls, and tore his dress with his +nails until he was all in rags, and kept saying, with great bursts of +laughter: “Strength and beauty, beauty and strength; seek, seek, +Miserable!” And he hung from his ears with his two hands, and +kicked his stone feet in his face, notwithstanding that the Sire cried +out with pain.</p> +<p>And the little mannikin said: “To get strength and beauty, +seek, Halewyn, a song and a sickle, seek, Sir Miserable!” And the +Miserable went on scratching out the earth with his piece of sword.</p> +<p>Suddenly the earth fell away under the stone, leaving a great hole +open, and Halewyn, by the light of the mannikin’s eyes, saw a +sepulchre, and within the sepulchre a man lying, who was of marvellous +beauty and had none of the appearance of death.</p> +<p>This man was clad all in white, and in his hands held a sickle, +whereof both handle and blade were of gold.</p> +<div class="figure xd20e1523width" id="p052"><img src="images/p052.jpg" +alt="The Man in White" width="544" height="720"> +<p class="figureHead">The Man in White</p> +</div> +<p>“Take the sickle,” quoth the little mannikin, thumping +his head with his fists.</p> +<p>Sir Halewyn did as he was bid, and straightway the man in the tomb +became dust, and from the dust came a white flame, tall and spreading, +and from the white flame a wonderfully sweet song.</p> +<p>And suddenly all about the wood was spread a perfume of cinnamon, +frankincense, and sweet marjoram.</p> +<p>“Sing,” said the mannikin, and the Miserable repeated +the song. While he was singing his harsh voice was changed to a voice +sweeter than an angel’s, and he saw coming out of the depths of +the wood a virgin of heavenly beauty and wholly naked; and she came and +stood before him. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb53" href="#pb53" +name="pb53">53</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Ah,” she said, weeping, “master of the golden +sickle. I come, for I must obey; do not make me suffer too much in the +taking of my heart, master of the golden sickle.”</p> +<p>Then the virgin went away into the depths of the wood; and the +mannikin, bursting out into laughter, threw Sir Halewyn down on to the +ground, and said:</p> +<p>“Hast song and sickle; so shalt thou have strength and beauty; +I am the Prince of the Stones; farewell, cousin.”</p> +<p>And Halewyn, picking himself up, saw no more of either the mannikin +or the naked maid; and studying well the golden sickle, and pondering +in his mind what could be the meaning of the man in the tomb and the +naked virgin, and inquiring within himself in perplexity what use he +could make of the sickle and the sweet song, he saw suddenly on the +blade a fair inscription, written in letters of fire.</p> +<p>But he could not read the writing, for he was ignorant of all the +arts; and, weeping with rage, he threw himself into the bushes, crying +out: “Help me, Prince of the Stones. Leave me not to die of +despair.”</p> +<p>Thereupon the mannikin reappeared, leapt upon his shoulder, and, +giving him a stout rap on the nose, read on one side of the blade of +the sickle this inscription which follows:</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">Song calls,</p> +<p class="line">Sickle reaps.</p> +<p class="line">In the heart of a maid shalt thou find:</p> +<p class="line">Strength, beauty, honour, riches,</p> +<p class="line">From the hands of a dead virgin.</p> +</div> +<p class="first">And upon the other side of the blade the mannikin read +further:</p> +<div class="lgouter"> +<p class="line">Whoso thou art shalt do this thing,</p> +<p class="line">Writing read and song sing:</p> +<p class="line">Seek well, hark and go;</p> +<p class="line">No man shall lay thee low.</p> +<p class="line">Song calls,</p> +<p class="line">Sickle reaps.</p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb54" href="#pb54" name= +"pb54">54</a>]</span></p> +<p>And having read this the mannikin went away once more.</p> +<p>Suddenly the Miserable heard a sad voice saying:</p> +<p>“Wilt thou seek strength and beauty in death, blood, and +tears?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he.</p> +<p>“Ambitious heart, heart of stone,” answered the voice. +Then he heard nothing more.</p> +<p>And he gazed at the sickle with its flaming letters until such time +as My Lord Chanticleer called his hens awake.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VIII.</span> What Halewyn did +to the little girl cutting faggots.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">The Miserable was overjoyed at what had come about, +and inquired within himself whether it would be in the heart of a +virgin child or of a marriageable virgin that he would find what was +promised him, and so satisfy his great desire for worship and +power.</p> +<p>Pondering this he went a little way through the wood and stationed +himself near to some cottages where he knew there were maids of divers +ages, and there waited until morning.</p> +<p>Soon after the sun was up, a little girl came out, nine years old, +or rather less, and began collecting and cutting up faggots.</p> +<p>Going up to her, he sang the song and showed her the sickle.</p> +<p>Whereupon she cried out in fear, and ran away as fast as she +could.</p> +<p>But Halewyn, having quickly overtaken her, dragged her off by force +to his castle.</p> +<p>Going in, he met on the bridge his lady mother, who said to him: +“Where goest thou, Miserable, with this child?”</p> +<p>He answered:</p> +<p>“To bring honour to our house.”</p> +<p>And his lady mother let him pass, thinking him mad.</p> +<p>He went into his room, opened the side of the girl beneath a breast +just budding, cut out the heart with the sickle, and drank the blood. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb55" href="#pb55" name= +"pb55">55</a>]</span></p> +<p>But he got no more strength from it than he had before.</p> +<p>And weeping bitter tears, he cried: “The sickle has played me +false.” And he threw down into the moat both the heart and the +body.</p> +<p>And the lady Halewyn seeing this poor heart and body dropping into +the water, ordered that they should be taken out and brought to +her.</p> +<p>Seeing the body rent open under the breast, and the heart taken out, +she became afraid lest Siewert her first-born was following dark +practices.</p> +<p>And she put the girl’s heart back in her breast, and gave her +a very fine and Christian burial, and had a fair great cross made on +her winding-sheet, and afterwards she was put in the ground and a fair +mass said for the quiet of her soul.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">IX.</span> Of the heart of a +maid and of the great strength which came to Sir Halewyn.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Sorely troubled, and falling on his knees, Halewyn +said: “Alas, is the spell then impotent? I sang, and she would +not come to my singing! What would you have me do now, Lord Prince of +the Stones? If it is that I must wait until nightfall, that I will do. +Then, without doubt, having no sun to hinder your powers, you will give +me strength and beauty, and all prowess, and you will send me the +virgin I need.”</p> +<p>And he went at night to wander in the woods round about the +cottages, and there, singing his song, and looking out to see if any +were coming<span class="corr" id="xd20e1637" title= +"Source: ,">.</span></p> +<p>He saw by the light of the bright moon the daughter of Claes, a poor +mad man, nicknamed the Dog-beater, because he used to thump and pommel +grievously whomever he met, saying that these accursed dogs had robbed +him of his coat, and must give it him back again.</p> +<p>This girl took care of Claes very well, and would not marry, though +she was a beautiful maid, saying: “Since he is simple, I cannot +leave him to look to himself.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb56" href="#pb56" name="pb56">56</a>]</span></p> +<p>And every one, seeing her so stout-hearted, gave her, one some of +his cheese, another some beans, another some flour, and so they lived +together without wanting for food.</p> +<p>The Miserable stood still at the edge of the wood and sang. And the +maid walked straight towards the singing and fell on her knees before +him.</p> +<p>He went home to his castle, and she followed him, and entered in +with him, saying no word.</p> +<p>On the stair he met his brother, just returned from boar-hunting, +who said, in mocking wise:</p> +<p>“Ah, is the Miserable about to get us a bastard?” And to +the girl: “Well, mistress, thy heart must be fast set on my ugly +brother that thou must needs follow him in this wise, without a word +spoken.”</p> +<p>But Halewyn, in a rage, hit out at his brother’s face with his +sword.</p> +<p>Then, passing him by, went up into his own room.</p> +<p>And there, having shut fast the door, from fear of his brother, he +stripped the girl quite naked, as he had seen the virgin in his vision. +And the girl said that she was cold.</p> +<p>Quickly he opened her breast with the golden blade, under the left +pap.</p> +<p>And as the maid gave the death-cry, the heart came out of itself on +the blade.</p> +<p>And the Miserable saw before his eyes the little mannikin coming out +of the stones of the wall, who said to him, grinning:</p> +<p>“Heart on heart gives strength and beauty. Halewyn shall hang +the maid in the Gallows-field. And the body shall hang until the hour +of God.” Then he went back into the wall.</p> +<p>Halewyn put the heart on his breast, and felt it beating firmly and +taking root in his skin. And suddenly his bent back was straightened; +and his arm found such strength that he broke easily in two a heavy +oaken bench; and looking <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb57" href= +"#pb57" name="pb57">57</a>]</span>at himself in a mirror-glass he saw +an image so beautiful that he could scarce tell it for his own.</p> +<p>And he felt in his veins the fire of youth burning.</p> +<p>Going down into the great hall he found there at supper his father, +mother, brother, and sister.</p> +<p>None of them would have known him but for his voice, which was +unchanged.</p> +<p>And his mother rose and peered into his face to see him better.</p> +<p>And he said to her: “Woman, I am thine own son, Siewert +Halewyn, the Invincible.”</p> +<p>But his brother, whom he had but lately smitten in the face, ran +towards him hotly, saying: “Cursed be the Invincible!” and +struck him with his knife. But the blade snapped off like glass against +the body of the Miserable; whereupon the younger brother seized him in +his arms, but the Miserable tore him off and threw him to one side as +if he had been a caterpillar.</p> +<p>Then he rushed at him with his head down, like a battering-ram, but +as soon as his head touched the Miserable it was cut open, and the +blood ran down over his face.</p> +<p>And his father and mother, his sister and the wounded brother, threw +themselves on their knees and asked his forgiveness, begging him, since +he had become so powerful, to bring them riches and honour.</p> +<p>“That I will,” said he.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">X.</span> How the Miserable +robbed a Lombard goldsmith, and of the pleasant speech of the ladies +and gentlewomen.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">On the morrow, armed only with the sickle, for he +despised other arms on account of the strength which the spell gave +him, Halewyn took the body of the maid to the Gallows-field and there +hanged it on the tree.</p> +<p>Then he rode off to the city of Ghent.</p> +<p>And the ladies, gentlewomen and maidens of the town, <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb58" href="#pb58" name="pb58">58</a>]</span>seeing +him pass by on his black horse, said among themselves: “Who is +this fair horseman?”</p> +<p>“’Tis,” he cried right proudly, “Siewert +Halewyn, who was called the Ill-favoured one.”</p> +<p>“Nay, nay,” said the bolder among them, “you are +making fun of us, My Lord, or else you have been changed by a +fairy.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he, “and, moreover, I had fleshly +knowledge of her; and so shall have of you, if I please.”</p> +<p>At these words the ladies and gentlewomen were not at all put +out.</p> +<p>And he went to the shop of a Lombard goldsmith in that town, who had +at one time and another lent him six-and-twenty florins. But the +goldsmith did not know him for himself.</p> +<p>He told him that he was Sir Halewyn.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the goldsmith, “then I pray, My Lord, +that you will repay me my six-and-twenty florins.”</p> +<p>But Halewyn, laughing: “Take me,” he said, “to the +room where thou keepest thy gold.”</p> +<p>“My Lord,” said the goldsmith, “that I will not, +for all that I hold you in high esteem.”</p> +<p>“Dog,” said he, “if thou dost not obey me I will +strike thee dead instantly.”</p> +<p>“Ha!” said the goldsmith, “do not come blustering +here, My Lord, for I am neither serf nor peasant, but a free burgess of +this town. And if you are so minded as to lay your hands on me, I shall +know how to get redress, I promise you.”</p> +<p>Then Halewyn struck him, and the burgess called for help.</p> +<p>Hearing this cry, apprentices to the number of six came down into +the shop, and, seeing Halewyn, ran to seize him.</p> +<p>But he beat them off likewise and bade them show him where the gold +was kept.</p> +<p>Which they did, saying one to another: “This is the +Devil.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb59" href="#pb59" name= +"pb59">59</a>]</span></p> +<p>And the goldsmith, weeping: “My Lord,” said he, +“do not take it all.”</p> +<p>“I shall take what I will,” said Halewyn; and he filled +his money-bag.</p> +<p>And in this way he took from the goldsmith more than seven hundred +golden <i>bezants</i>.</p> +<p>Then, seeing the poor man lamenting his lot, he struck him two or +three hard blows, telling him not to whine so loud, and that before the +month was out he would take from him double the amount.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XI.</span> Of the arrogant +arms of Sir Halewyn.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">And the Miserable became the richest, most powerful, +and most feared baron in the whole province.</p> +<p>And blasphemously he compared himself to God.</p> +<p>And considering that the old arms of Dirk, and his device, were too +mean for his new magnificence:</p> +<p>He sent to Bruges for painters in heraldry to fashion them +afresh.</p> +<p>These painters put the old crow away in one quarter, and on a field +<i>argent</i> and <i>sable</i> blazoned a heart <i>gules</i> and a +sickle <i>or</i>, with this device: <i>None can stand against +me</i>.</p> +<p>Moreover, he had this same blazon fashioned into a great standard +which was flown from his castle keep. And also had it cut in stone over +the gate. And on his shield, which he caused to be made larger so that +the arrogant device might be seen to better advantage. And on his arms, +his clothes, and wherever it could be put, there he had it as well.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XII.</span> How Sir Halewyn +jousted with a knight of England.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">It so happened that at about this time My Lord of +Flanders let call a tournament.</p> +<p>And sent out to all his lords and barons to come to Ghent for that +purpose.</p> +<p>Halewyn went thither and set up his shield among the others. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb60" href="#pb60" name= +"pb60">60</a>]</span></p> +<p>But the barons and lords, seeing the arrogant device and the great +size of the shield, were greatly put to offence thereat.</p> +<p>And all of them jousted with him, but each was overthrown in +turn.</p> +<p>Among them was present an English knight of much prowess, who rode +out to the middle of the tourney-field and stood straight and proud +before Sir Halewyn.</p> +<p>“Well,” quoth he, “My Lord the Invincible, it +displeases me to see thee planted there so arrogantly and unhorsing us +all in this fashion. Wilt thou fight with me?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Sir Halewyn.</p> +<p>“If I overcome thee, thou shalt be my servant and I shall take +thee with me into Cornwall.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Sir Halewyn.</p> +<p>“And cause thee to grease my horses’ hooves, and empty +the dung from the stable; and find out whether thou art invincible at +such work also.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Sir Halewyn.</p> +<p>“And if thou art not invincible, the invincible stick shall +thrash thee invincibly.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Sir Halewyn.</p> +<p>“But if thou overcome me, this shall be thy guerdon:</p> +<p>“Five-and-twenty <i>bezants</i> which are in the house of thy +Lord, the noble Count of Flanders; all the accoutrement of my horse, +which is of fine mail; his fair saddle of pear-wood, covered with +leather, and saddle-bows richly figured with ten horsemen lustily +fighting and with Our Lord driving out the devil from one possessed; +furthermore my helm of fine wrought steel, and on it a crest of silver, +gilt over, with spread wings, which may very well, notwithstanding thy +device, stand against thy bleeding heart, thy gaping sickle, and thy +miserable crow. Well, My Lord the Invincible, dost think thou shalt win +invincibly the five-and-twenty <i>bezants</i>, the helm of my head, and +the trappings of my horse?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Sir Halewyn. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb61" href="#pb61" name="pb61">61</a>]</span></p> +<p>Then, after My Lord himself had given the signal, they ran together +with a great clatter.</p> +<p>And the English knight was overthrown like the rest.</p> +<p>Then all the ladies acclaimed and applauded the Miserable, crying +out: “Worship to Siewert Halewyn the noble, Siewert Halewyn the +Fleming, Siewert Halewyn the Invincible.”</p> +<p>And on his way back to the house of My Lord, there to feast with +him, he was by these ladies kissed, fondled, and made much of without +stint.</p> +<p>And, putting on the gear of the English knight, he went off to the +towns of Bruges, Lille, and Ghent, thieving and ravishing +everywhere.</p> +<p>And came back from each expedition with much booty.</p> +<p>And felt the heart all the while pouring live strength into his +breast and beating against his skin.</p> +<p>Then he went back to his own castle with the five-and-twenty +<i>bezants</i> and the arms of the knight of England.</p> +<p>When he sounded the horn there came to him his mother, who, seeing +him so gilt over, was overcome with joy, and cried: “He brings us +riches, as he promised.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Sir Halewyn.</p> +<p>And she fell at his feet and kissed them.</p> +<p>As also did the younger brother, saying: “Sir Brother thou +hast lifted us up from poverty, I will willingly serve thee.”</p> +<p>“So shouldst thou, indeed,” said Halewyn. Then, going +into the hall: “I would sup,” he said, “thou, woman, +fetch me meat, and thou, fellow, drink.”</p> +<p>And on the morrow, and every day thereafter, he made to serve him at +table, as if they had been his private servants, his father, mother, +brother, and sister, turn by turn.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XIII.</span> Of the heart +dried up and of the dame Halewyn.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">But one morning while he was at meat in his castle, +when his father and sister were gone to Bruges to buy corn-coloured +cloth-of-scarlet for their clothes, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb62" +href="#pb62" name="pb62">62</a>]</span></p> +<p>And he was being served, with all humility, by his mother and +brother,</p> +<p>He became suddenly quite cold, for the heart had ceased to beat.</p> +<p>Putting his hand to his breast, he touched dried-up skin.</p> +<p>Then he felt his face go back as it was before, his shoulders shrink +down, his back hump up, and all his body lessen in stature.</p> +<p>Looking at his mother and brother in turn, he saw them laughing and +saying to each other: “See, here is our master back in his old +ugly skin, and with his old ugly face.”</p> +<p>“Ha, My Lord,” said his brother, coming boldly up to him +and speaking insolently, “will you not take some of this +<i>clauwaert</i> to hearten yourself? You have no longer, it seems, +your former strength.”</p> +<p>“Wilt try it?” said the Miserable, and struck him with +his fist, but did him no more hurt than if he had been a fly.</p> +<p>Seeing this the younger brother grew bolder, and seating himself +close to Halewyn on the seat:</p> +<p>“My lord,” said he, “you have had pudding enough, +I think, ’tis my turn to eat.”</p> +<p>And he took the pudding from off his platter.</p> +<p>“My lord son,” said his mother, “now you shall +give to me, who am old, some of this old wine you have kept for +yourself.”</p> +<p>And she took the cup out of his hand.</p> +<p>“My lord brother,” said the younger son, “methinks +you have too much of this roast of lamb with sweet chestnuts; I will +take it, if you please.”</p> +<p>And he put the roast of lamb before his own place.</p> +<p>“My lord son,” said his mother, “you do not much +like, it seems, this fair cheese and barley tart, give it to me, I pray +you.”</p> +<p>And the Miserable, dumbfounded, gave it to her.</p> +<p>“My lord brother,” said the younger son, “you have +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb63" href="#pb63" name= +"pb63">63</a>]</span>been sitting there long enough like an emperor, +will you be pleased to stir your limbs now and serve us?”</p> +<p>And the Miserable, getting up, served them as he was bidden.</p> +<p>“My lord son,” said his mother, “I see you now +submissive to our orders, will you be pleased to ask my pardon for +having so long kept me standing like a private servant, fetching you +food and drink, though I am your mother?”</p> +<p>And the Miserable fell at her feet.</p> +<p>“My lord brother,” said the younger son, “wilt +thou be pleased to fall at my feet likewise, and kiss them, for that +thou hast made me do the work of a serf?”</p> +<p>“That I will not,” said the Miserable.</p> +<p>“Thou wilt not?”</p> +<p>“I will not,” said the Miserable, and stepped back a +pace.</p> +<p>“Come hither,” said his brother.</p> +<p>“I will not,” said the Miserable.</p> +<p>Then the younger ran at him, and, bearing him to the ground without +difficulty, began thumping and pommelling him, and striking him in the +face with his golden spurs, saying: “Avenge thyself, Siewert +Halewyn the Invincible. None can stand against thee, save I. Thou hast +long treated us as serfs in thy house, now I will treat thee as a +cheese and crush thee underfoot. Why dost thou not now caper as a kid, +or fly away as a bird, Siewert the enchanted?” and, going into a +frenzy of rage, he drew his knife, saying: “I will cut thee off +thy head unless thou cry mercy.”</p> +<p>“I will not,” said the Miserable.</p> +<p>But his mother, hearing these words, took quickly from the fire a +handful of embers, and notwithstanding their heat, threw them into the +eyes and mouth of the younger brother, saying: “Thou shalt not +kill my first-born, wicked son.”</p> +<p>And while the younger brother was howling by reason of the pain from +the embers, which blinded him, his mother took the knife from him, and +while he was twisting this way <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb64" +href="#pb64" name="pb64">64</a>]</span>and that, swinging up his arms +to strike whomever he could, she threw him down, shut him up in the +room, and went out dragging her first-born after her. Then, although +she was feeble with age, she carried Halewyn up into the tower on her +back, as a shepherd carries a lamb (for he had quite lost his senses), +and there tended him and bathed his face and breast, which were torn +and bleeding, and there at nightfall left him and went away.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XIV.</span> Of the great +weakness of Sir Halewyn and of the days and nights which he spent in +the forest.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">The Miserable, alone and somewhat comforted, rose to +his feet, and was right glad to feel the sickle still at his belt; +opened the door, listened to make sure that he could hear nothing, and +that his brother was not there.</p> +<p>And when the night was fully dark, went down the stair slowly, +sitting-wise.</p> +<p>For he was so weakened by the blows and wounds he had received that +he could not hold himself upright by any means; and in this fashion he +went on until he reached the bridge, and, finding that still down, +crossed over it.</p> +<p>And very wearily he made his way to the forest.</p> +<p>But he could not, on account of his weakness, go so far as the +cottages, which were a good two leagues distant to the northward.</p> +<p>So, lying down among the leaves, he sang.</p> +<p>But no maid came, for the song could not be heard from so far +away.</p> +<p>And so passed the first day.</p> +<p>When night came again, cold rain began to fall, which sent him into +a fever. But notwithstanding this he would not go back to his castle, +for fear of his brother. Shivering, and with his teeth a-chatter, he +dragged himself northward through the brake, and saw in a clearing a +fair pretty maid, rosy-cheeked, fresh, slender, and neat, and he sang +his song. But the girl did not come to him.</p> +<div class="figure xd20e1964width" id="p064"><img src="images/p064.jpg" +alt="Sir Halewyn in the Wood" width="541" height="720"> +<p class="figureHead">Sir Halewyn in the Wood</p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb65" href="#pb65" name= +"pb65">65</a>]</span></p> +<p>And so passed the second day.</p> +<p>That night the rain fell anew, and he could not move, so stiff was +he from the cold, and he sang, but no maid came. At dawn the rain +continued, and while he was lying there among the leaves a wolf came +and sniffed at him, thinking him dead, but on seeing it draw near he +cried out in a terrible fashion, and the wolf took fright and went off. +Then he grew hungry, but could find himself nothing to eat. At vespers +he sang anew, but no maid came.</p> +<p>And so passed the third day.</p> +<p>Towards midnight the sky cleared, and the wind grew warmer. But the +Miserable, though he was suffering greatly from hunger, thirst, and +weariness, dared not sleep. On the morning of the fourth day he saw a +girl coming towards him who seemed to be a burgess’s daughter. +The girl would have run away on seeing him, but he cried out loudly: +“Help me! I am worn out with hunger and sickness.” Then she +drew near to him and said: “I also am hungry.” “Art +thou,” he said, “a maid? “ “Ah,” said +she, “I have had to flee from Bruges, because the priests would +have burnt me alive, on account of a brown mole which I have on my +neck, of the size of a pea, coming, they say, from my having had +fleshly commerce with the devil. But I have never seen the devil, and +do not know what he is like.”</p> +<p>He, without listening to her, asked again if she were a virgin, and, +as the girl said nothing, he sang his song.</p> +<p>But she did not move from where she stood, only saying: “You +have a very sweet and strong voice for one so wasted with sickness and +hunger.”</p> +<p>Then he said to her: “I am the lord Siewert Halewyn. Go to my +castle and ask to be taken to my lady mother, and without speaking to +any one else, whosoever he be, tell her that her son is hard put to it +in the forest with hunger, fever, and weariness, and will die before +long if none bring him help.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb66" +href="#pb66" name="pb66">66</a>]</span></p> +<p>The girl went off as he bid her, but coming out of the wood she saw +in the Gallows-field the body of the maid hanging, and ran away in a +fright. Passing into the territory of Sir Roel de Heurne she craved +food and drink at the cottage of one of his peasants. And there she +told how she had found Sir Halewyn dying of hunger. But she was told in +reply that the said lord was crueller and more wicked than the devil +himself, and should be left to be eaten by the wolves and other beasts +of the forest.</p> +<p>And the Miserable waited, lying in the leaves in great anguish.</p> +<p>And so passed the fourth day.</p> +<p>And at dawn of the fifth, having seen no more of the girl, he +supposed that she had been caught by the priests and taken back to +Bruges to be burnt.</p> +<p>Quite disheartened, and chilled with the cold, and saying that he +would soon die, he cursed the Prince of the Stones.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, at vespers he sang once more.</p> +<p>And he was then by the side of a forest way.</p> +<p>And he saw coming through the trees a fair maid, who fell on her +knees before him.</p> +<p>And he did to her as he had done to the others.</p> +<p>Then rose full of fresh strength, vigour, and beauty, and with the +heart resting against his own went off to the Gallows-field, carrying +the body, and there hanged it by that of the first virgin.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XV.</span> How the Miserable, +having hanged fifteen virgins in the Gallows-field, held wicked revels +and cruel orgies.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Sir Halewyn became most powerful and greatly feared, +and killed up to fifteen virgins, whom he hanged in the +Gallows-field.</p> +<p>And he led a riotous life, eating, drinking, and carousing +continually.</p> +<p>All those ladies who had made fun of him in the days of his +impotence and ugliness were brought to his castle. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb67" href="#pb67" name="pb67">67</a>]</span></p> +<p>And having had his will of them he turned them out of doors like +bitches, so wreaking upon them his evil vengeance.</p> +<p>And from Lille, Ghent, and Bruges came the most beautiful +courtesans, with their badge on their arms, and they ministered to his +pleasure and to that of his friends, among whom the more evil were +<i>Diederich Pater-noster</i>, so called because he was a great +frequenter of churches; <i>Nellin the Wolf</i>, who in battle attacked +only the fallen, as wolves do; and <i>Baudouin Sans Ears</i>, who in +his court of justice always cried: “Death, death,” without +waiting to hear any defence whatever.</p> +<p>In company with the fair courtesans these same lords held revels and +orgies without end, and took from their poor peasants all they had, +corn, cheese, jewels, cocks, oxen, calves, and swine.</p> +<p>Then, having stuffed themselves as full as they could hold, threw to +their dogs choice viands and rich cakes<span class="corr" id= +"xd20e2035" title="Source: :">.</span></p> +<p>Gave to be broken and pounded up for their hawks and falcons, the +meat of fowls, cockerels, and doves; had the hooves of their horses +bathed in wine.</p> +<p>Oftentimes until midnight, or even until cock-crow, there would be +beating of drums, trilling of pipes, squeaking of viols, skirling of +bagpipes, and winding of horns, for their entertainment.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XVI.</span> How the burgesses +of the good town of Ghent gave protection to the virgins of the domain +of Halewyn.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Meanwhile in the cottages of the peasant folk were +tears, hunger, and great misery.</p> +<p>And when the fifteenth maid had been taken in the domain of +Halewyn,</p> +<p>The mothers prayed to God that he would make them barren, or else +that they might bear men-children only.</p> +<p>And the fathers complained and said to one another sadly: “Is +it not a pitiful thing to see these sweet and gentle flowers of youth +so brought to death and dishonour!” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb68" href="#pb68" name="pb68">68</a>]</span></p> +<p>And some among them said: “Let us go by night to the good town +of Ghent, taking with us all our virgin daughters, and tell the whole +tale to the burgesses, begging their blessed protection for them, and +leaving them there in the town if we are so permitted. So they will +escape death at the hands of our master.”</p> +<p>Every one who heard this plan thought it a good one; and all the +peasants with daughters who were virgins took them off to Ghent, and +there told the story to the commune, and the good men gave them +protection.</p> +<p>Then with lighter hearts the peasants returned to the domain of +Halewyn.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XVII.</span> Of what Sir +Halewyn did on the borders of his domain.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Not long afterwards a hard winter set in, with bitter +cold and furious storm.</p> +<p>And the heart of the fifteenth virgin no longer beat strong against +Sir Halewyn’s breast.</p> +<p>And he sang, but none came. Wherefore he was disappointed and +angry.</p> +<p>But calling to mind that there were, in the castle of Sir Roel de +Heurne, two girls supposed by common report to be virgins,</p> +<p>And that this castle was no more than the fifth part of a league +from the borders of his land,</p> +<p>And that therefore the two maids would be able to hear and come to +the call of his song,</p> +<p>He went each night and stationed himself on the farthest border of +his demesne, and there sang towards the said castle, notwithstanding +the bitter cold, and the snow beginning to fall abundantly.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XVIII.</span> Of the damosels +Magtelt and Anne-Mie, and of Schimmel the dapple-gray.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">While the Miserable was roaming the woods, Sir Roel de +Heurne and the lady Gonde, his wife, richly clad, and wrapt +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb69" href="#pb69" name= +"pb69">69</a>]</span>round with deer-skins, which give particular +warmth to the body, were sitting snugly on their coffers before their +good fire of oaken logs, chatting together as old folk will.</p> +<p>But it was the Lady Gonde who spoke most, being the woman.</p> +<p>And she said:</p> +<p>“My good man, do you hear the storm raging furiously in the +forest?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” answered Sir Roel.</p> +<p>And his lady said further:</p> +<p>“God has been kind to give us, against this great cold, such a +fine castle so strongly built, such good clothes, and such a bright +fire.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” answered the Sire.</p> +<p>“But above all,” said she, “he has shown us his +divine grace by giving us such good and brave children.”</p> +<p>“True,” answered the Sire.</p> +<p>“For,” said she, “nowhere could you find a young +man more valiant, courteous, gentle, and fitter to uphold our name than +Toon, our son.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the Sire, “he has saved my life in +battle.”</p> +<p>“But,” said his lady, “he has this fault, that he +is so scant of words that we scarce know the tone of his voice. He is +well called the Silent.”</p> +<p>“There is better worth to a man,” said the Sire, +“in a good sword than in a long tongue.”</p> +<p>“Here I see you, my lord,” said the lady, “pent up +with your reflections, for sadness and gravity are the lot of old age, +but I know well a certain maid who would smooth out your forehead and +set you laughing.”</p> +<p>“’Tis possible,” said the Sire.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said she, “it is certainly possible, for +when Magtelt our daughter comes into this room, I shall see my lord and +husband turn happy at once.”</p> +<p>At these words Sir Roel nodded his head and smiled a little. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb70" href="#pb70" name= +"pb70">70</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” said his lady, “for when Magtelt +laughs, then laughs my old Roel; when she sings, then my old Roel grows +thoughtful and nods his head happily, and if she passes by, he follows +with smiling eyes each step of his little daughter.”</p> +<p>“True, Gonde,” said the Sire.</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” said she, “for who is the well-being +and joy of this house? ’Tis not I, who am old, and losing my +teeth one by one; nor you either, my fellow in antiquity; nor the +Silent either; nor Anne-Mie the private servant, who, though she is +very sweet and healthy in her person, is something too quiet in her +ways, and laughs only when she is set laughing. But she who makes our +old age happy, she who is the nightingale in the house, she who is +always coming and going, passing and repassing, flying hither and +thither, singing and singing again, as happy as a peal of bells at +Christmastide: ’tis our good daughter.”</p> +<p>“So it is,” said the Sire.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said his lady further, “it is a happy thing +for us to have such a child, since both of us have already cold in our +feet at all seasons. For without her we should pass our time in +sadness, and from our old feet the cold would creep up to our hearts, +and so we should be taken to our graves more quickly.”</p> +<p>“Yes, wife,” said the Sire.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said she, “another damosel would have wished +for love-suitors, and to go to the court of My Lord to get a husband. +But our little maid gives no thought to that, for hereabout she loves +no one but ourselves, and her who goes everywhere with her, and is as a +sister to her, Anne-Mie the private servant; but not without teasing +her a little in order to make her laugh.”</p> +<p>“True,” said the Sire.</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” said his lady, “and every one loves +her, admires her, and respects her, pages, grooms, varlets, +men-at-arms, private servants, serfs, and peasants, so joyous and +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb71" href="#pb71" name= +"pb71">71</a>]</span>merry is she, so brave and gentle is her bearing. +There is no one, even down to Schimmel, the great war-horse, who does +not follow her like a dog. Ah! When he sees her coming he whinnies +joyously; and she alone must bring him his oats and corn; from none +other will he take a grain. She treats him like a man, and often gives +him a great draught of <i>clauwaert</i>, which he drinks up with +relish. She makes herself understood to him by words, but she must +never be cross with him, or he makes as if to weep, and looks at her +with so sad a manner that she cannot withstand it and then calls him to +her, saying: ‘Beautiful Schimmel, brave Schimmel,’ and +other soft words; hearing which the good dapple-gray gets up and comes +close to her to have more compliments. He suffers no one on his back +but she, and when he is carrying her he is as proud as My Lord of +Flanders at the head of his good barons and knights. So she has her +sovereignty over every one, by joyousness, goodness, and fair +speaking.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the Sire.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said his lady, “may the very good God watch +over our little one, and may our old ears hear this fledgeling +nightingale singing always.”</p> +<p>“Amen,” said the Sire.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XIX.</span> How Magtelt sang +to Sir Roel the lied of the Lion, and the song of the Four +Witches.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">While Sir Roel and the lady Gonde were talking +together,</p> +<p>The snow had fallen in great quantity,</p> +<p>And had quite covered Magtelt and Anne-Mie, who were coming back +from having taken an eagle-stone to the wife of Josse, for her to bind +to her left thigh and so get ease in her lying-in.</p> +<p>And the girls came into the great hall, where Sir Roel was sitting +with his good wife.</p> +<p>Magtelt, drawing close to her father, knelt to him in salutation. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb72" href="#pb72" name= +"pb72">72</a>]</span></p> +<p>And Sir Roel, having raised her up, kissed her on the brow.</p> +<p>But Anne-Mie stayed quietly in a corner, as became a private +servant.</p> +<p>And it was a good sight to see these two maids wholly covered with +snow.</p> +<p>“Jesus-Maria,” said the lady Gonde, “see these two +sillies, what have they been doing to get themselves clothed in snow in +this fashion? To the fire quickly, children; draw to the fire and dry +yourselves.”</p> +<p>“Silence, wife,” said Sir Roel, “you make youth +faint-heart. In my young days I went through cold, snow, hail, thunder, +and tempest without a thought. And so do I still, when there is need +to, and I will have Magtelt do the same. Thanks be to God! ’tis +not from a fire of logs that a daughter of ours must get warmth, but +from the natural fire which burns in the bodies of the children of old +Roel.”</p> +<p>But Magtelt, seeing him about to grow angry, went and knelt at his +feet.</p> +<p>“Lord father,” said she, “we are not cold at all, +for we have been leaping, dancing and frolicking so heartily, thumping +and drubbing each other, that we turned winter into spring; furthermore +we sang some fine songs, which I beg you will give me leave to sing +over again to you.”</p> +<p>“So I will, little one,” said Sir Roel. So Magtelt sang +him the <i>lied</i>, of Roeland de Heurne <i>the Lion</i>, who came +back from the Holy Land, and brought thence a great sword; and also the +song of the <i>Four Witches</i>, wherein you may hear mewling of cats, +bleating of goats, and the noise which they make with their tails in +rainy weather.</p> +<p>And Sir Roel forgot his anger.</p> +<p>When Magtelt had done singing he caused supper to be served and the +cross lit up, which threw over them a bright light from the four lamps +burning at the end of each arm.</p> +<p>And he made his daughter sit at his side. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb73" href="#pb73" name="pb73">73</a>]</span></p> +<p>Anne-Mie came likewise to sit at table, beside the lady Gonde, who +said: “Young company warms old folk.”</p> +<p>And there were served to them that evening fine white bread, beef +salted and smoked in the chimney among the sweet smoke of fir-cones, +Ghent sausage, which was invented, they say, by <i>Boudwin the +Glutton</i>, bastard of Flanders, and old <i>clauwaert</i>.</p> +<p>Supper finished, and a prayer spoken, Magtelt and Anne-Mie went off +to bed, in the same room, for Magtelt loved Anne-Mie like a sister and +would have her by her side at all times.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XX.</span> Of the sixteenth +virgin hanged.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Magtelt, with laughter, singing, and frolic, soon fell +asleep.</p> +<p>But Anne-Mie, being somewhat cold, could not close her eyes.</p> +<p>And the Miserable came and stationed himself on the border of his +land. Thence his voice rang out clear, soft, and melodious.</p> +<p>And Anne-Mie heard it, and, forgetting that she was but lightly +clad, rose up and went out of the castle by the postern.</p> +<p>When she came into the open the snow smote harshly on her face, her +breast, and her shoulders.</p> +<p>And she tried to shield herself against this bitter cold and evil +snow, but could not, for she had lain down to sleep nearly naked.</p> +<p>Going towards the song she passed barefoot across the moat, whereof +the water was hard frozen.</p> +<p>And trying to mount the farther bank, which was high and slippery, +she fell;</p> +<p>And cut a great wound in her knee.</p> +<p>Having picked herself up she entered the forest, wounding her bare +feet on the stones, and her numbed body on the branches of trees.</p> +<p>But she went her way without heeding.</p> +<p>When she drew near to the Miserable she fell on her <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb74" href="#pb74" name="pb74">74</a>]</span>knees +before him. And he did to her as he had done to the others.</p> +<p>And Anne-Mie was the sixteenth virgin hanged in the +Gallows-field.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXI.</span> How Magtelt +sought Anne-Mie.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">On the morrow Magtelt, being, as was customary, the +first awake, said her prayers to My Lord Jesus and to Madam Saint +Magtelt, her blessed patron.</p> +<p>Having besought them earnestly for Sir Roel, the lady Gonde, the +Silent, and all the household, most particularly for Anne-Mie, she +looked at the maid’s bed, and seeing its curtains half drawn she +supposed that her companion was still asleep; and so, putting on her +fine clothes, she kept saying as she moved up and down the room, or +looked at herself in the mirror-glass:</p> +<p>“Ho, Anne-Mie, wake up, wake up, Anne-Mie! Who sleeps late +comes last to grass. The sparrows are awake and the hens also, and +already their eggs are laid. Wake up, Anne-Mie, Schimmel is neighing in +the stable, and the sun is shining bright on the snow; my lord father +is scolding the servants, and my lady mother is interceding for them. +Canst not smell the savoury odour of beans and good beef broiled with +spices? I can smell it well enough, and it makes me hungry; wake up, +Anne-Mie.” But the girl could not possess herself in patience any +longer, and threw the curtains wide open.</p> +<p>Finding no Anne-Mie: “There!” she said, “the +rogue, she has gone down without me; and without me, no doubt, is at +this same moment eating those good beans and beef.”</p> +<p>And going down the stairs at a run Magtelt entered the great hall, +where, seeing Sir Roel her father, she knelt to him and asked his +blessing, and then likewise to the lady Gonde.</p> +<p>But her mother said to her: “Where is Anne-Mie?” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb75" href="#pb75" name= +"pb75">75</a>]</span></p> +<p>“I cannot tell,” said Magtelt, “she is having some +fun with us, I suppose, hidden in some corner.”</p> +<p>“That,” said Sir Roel, “is not her way, for if any +one here makes fun of others ’tis not she, but thou, little +one.”</p> +<p>“My lord father,” said Magtelt, “you make me +anxious by talking so.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Sir Roel, “go and seek Anne-Mie; as +for us, mother, let us eat; our old stomachs cannot wait for food as +well as these young ones.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the lady Gonde, “I have no mind to eat; +go, Magtelt, and find me Anne-Mie.”</p> +<p>But Sir Roel helped himself to a great platterful of beans and good +beef, and, falling to it, said that nothing was so easily put out, +troubled, made anxious, as a woman, and this for nothing at all.</p> +<p>Nevertheless he was himself a little uneasy, and from time to time +looked up at the door, saying that the rascal of a girl would show +herself suddenly from somewhere.</p> +<p>But Magtelt, after searching the whole castle over, came back and +said: “I can find Anne-Mie nowhere.”</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXII.</span> How Magtelt wept +bitterly, and of the fine dress which she had.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">And Magtelt had great sorrow in her heart, and wept, +and made lament, crying: “Anne-Mie, where art thou? Would I could +see thee again!” And falling on her knees before Sir Roel, she +said: “My lord father, I pray you to send our men-at-arms in +goodly number in search for Anne-Mie.”</p> +<p>“So I will,” said he.</p> +<p>The men-at-arms went out, but dared not pass on to the lands of +Halewyn from fear of the spell.</p> +<p>And on their return they said: “We can hear nothing of +Anne-Mie.”</p> +<p>And Magtelt went up and stretched herself on her bed, and prayed to +the good God to send her back her sweet comrade. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb76" href="#pb76" name="pb76">76</a>]</span></p> +<p>On the second day she went and sat before the glazed window, and +without intermission looked out all day at the countryside and the +falling snow, and watched to see if Anne-Mie were coming.</p> +<p>But Anne-Mie could not come.</p> +<p>And on the third day the lids of her eyes bled for weeping. And on +that day the snow ceased falling, the sky became clear, the sun shone +therein, and the earth was hard frozen.</p> +<p>And every day in the same place went and sat the sorrowing Magtelt, +watching the countryside, thinking of Anne-Mie and saying nothing.</p> +<p>Sir Roel, seeing her so low-hearted, sent to Bruges for some blue +cloth-of-scarlet, for her to make herself a dress, and fine Cyprian +gold for the border, and fine gold buttons of rich workmanship.</p> +<p>Magtelt worked away at making this dress, but took no pleasure at +all at the thought of all this fine apparel.</p> +<p>And so passed away the week, and each day Magtelt worked at her +dress, saying nothing and singing never, but weeping oftentimes.</p> +<p>On the fifth day, when the dress was finished, well trimmed with the +Cyprian gold and embellished with the rich buttons, the lady Gonde bade +Magtelt don it, and then showed her her magnificence in a great +mirror-glass; but Magtelt had no heart to be glad at seeing herself so +beautiful, for she was thinking of Anne-Mie.</p> +<p>And the lady Gonde, seeing how sad she was and silent, wept also, +saying: “Since our Magtelt stopped singing I have felt more +bitterly the chill of winter and old age.”</p> +<p>And Sir Roel made no murmur, but became sullen and pensive, and +drank <i>clauwaert</i> all day.</p> +<p>And at times, turning angry, he bade Magtelt sing and be +cheerful.</p> +<p>And the maid sang merry <i>lieds</i> to the old man, who then turned +joyous again, and Gonde as well.</p> +<p>And they spent all their time before the fire, nodding <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb77" href="#pb77" name="pb77">77</a>]</span>their +heads. And they said: “The nightingale is come back again to the +house, and her music makes the fires of spring sunshine stir in our +bones.”</p> +<p>And Magtelt, having done singing, would go off to hide herself in a +corner and weep for Anne-Mie.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXIII.</span> Of Toon the +Silent.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">On the eighth day, the Silent went wolf-hunting.</p> +<p>Following a certain beast he rode into the domain of Halewyn.</p> +<p>And at vespers the lady Gonde, leaving the great hall to go to the +kitchen for the ordering of supper, on opening the door saw Toon before +her. He seemed loth to come in, and hung his head as if with shame.</p> +<p>The lady Gonde, going to him, said: “My son, why do you not +come into the hall to bid good evening to the lord your +father?”</p> +<p>The Silent, without answering, went into the hall, and muttering +short and sullen words by way of salutation, went to sit in the darkest +corner.</p> +<p>And the lady Gonde said to Sir Roel: “Our son is angry at +something, I think, since he goes off into a dark corner far away from +us, against his habit.”</p> +<p>Sir Roel said to the Silent: “Son, come hither to the light +that we may see thy face.”</p> +<p>He obeyed, and Sir Roel, the lady Gonde, and the sorrowing Magtelt +saw that he was bleeding from the head and from the neck, and cast down +his eyes, not daring to look them in the face.</p> +<p>The lady Gonde cried out with fright on seeing the blood, and +Magtelt came to him, and Sir Roel said: “Who has given my son +this shamed countenance, this downcast heart, and these wounds in his +body?”</p> +<p>The Silent answered: “Siewert Halewyn.”</p> +<p>“Why,” said Sir Roel, “was my son so presumptuous +as to attack the Invincible?” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb78" +href="#pb78" name="pb78">78</a>]</span></p> +<p>The Silent answered: “Anne-Mie hanged in the Gallows-field of +Siewert Halewyn.”</p> +<p>“Woe!” cried Sir Roel, “our poor maid hanged! +shame and sorrow upon us!”</p> +<p>“Lord God,” said Gonde, “you smite us hard +indeed.” And she wept.</p> +<p>But Magtelt could neither weep nor speak from the bitterness of the +grief which laid hold upon her.</p> +<p>And she looked at her brother fixedly, and his sunken face blenched, +and from the wounds against his eyes dropped tears of blood, and his +body was shaken with spasms.</p> +<p>And the Silent sank into a seat, weeping dully like a wounded +lion.</p> +<p>“Ha,” quoth Sir Roel, hiding his face, “this is +the first man of the house of Heurne that has found need to sit +weeping. Shame upon us, and without redress, for there is a spell +woven.”</p> +<p>And the Silent stuffed his fingers into the wound in his neck, +pressing out the blood; but he felt nothing of the pain.</p> +<p>“Toon,” said the lady Gonde, “do not dirty your +wound with your fingers in this wise; you will poison it, my +son.”</p> +<p>But the Silent did not seem to hear.</p> +<p>“Toon,” said the lady Gonde, “do not do it; I, +your mother, order you. Let me wash away this blood and dress with +ointment these ugly sores.”</p> +<p>While she hurried to prepare the ointment and to warm the water in a +washing-basin, Toon did not cease his groaning and weeping. And he tore +out the hair from his beard in a rage.</p> +<p>And Sir Roel, watching him, said: “When a man weeps ’tis +blood and shame, shame without redress. Halewyn has a spell. Ah, +presumptuous one, must thou then go to his castle to brave the +Invincible?”</p> +<p>“Woe, my lord,” said the lady Gonde, “be not so +bitter <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb79" href="#pb79" name= +"pb79">79</a>]</span>angry with the Silent, for he showed fine courage +in wishing to avenge Anne-Mie on the Miserable.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Sir Roel, “fine courage that brings +shame to our house.”</p> +<p>“Tell,” said she, “tell, Toon, the tale to thy +father, to show him that thou art a worthy son to him none the +less.”</p> +<p>“I wish it,” said Sir Roel.</p> +<p>“My lord father,” said the Silent, groaning, and +speaking in short breaths, “Anne-Mie hanging, Siewert Halewyn +near to the gallows. He was laughing. I ran at him, cutting at his +belly with my sword in the fashion of a cross to break the spell. +Invincible! He laughed, saying: ‘I will take Magtelt.’ I +struck him with a knife; the blade turned. He laughed. He said: +‘I do not care for punishment, be off.’ I did not go. I +struck him with sword and knife together; in vain. He laughed. He said +again: ‘Be off.’ I could not. Then he struck me with the +flat of his sword in the neck and breast, and with the hilt in the +back, like a serf. He laughed. I lost sense from the blows. Beaten like +a serf, my lord father, I could do naught against him.”</p> +<p>Sir Roel, having heard Toon speak, was less angered, understanding +that he had not been presumptuous, thinking also of his great pain and +of his bitter groaning and his grievous shame.</p> +<p>With the ointment ready and the water warm, the lady Gonde set to +work to dress the wounds of her son, particularly that on his neck, +which was a deep one.</p> +<p>But Magtelt wept never a tear, and soon went off to her bed, not +without a blessing from Sir Roel her father, and her lady mother.</p> +<p>The three stayed a long while together before the fire, father, +mother, and son, without a word spoken, for the Silent, moaning all the +while, could not bear his defeat, and the lady Gonde wept and prayed; +and Sir Roel, sad and ashamed, hid his face. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb80" href="#pb80" name="pb80">80</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXIV.</span> How the damosel +Magtelt made a good resolution.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Magtelt, before she lay down on her bed, prayed, but +not aloud. And her face was hard set with anger.</p> +<p>And having undressed she lay down in her bed, tugging at her breast +with her finger-nails from time to time, as if she were fighting for +breath.</p> +<p>And her breathing was as if she were in agony.</p> +<p>For she was bitter sad and out of heart.</p> +<p>But she did not weep.</p> +<p>And she heard the high wind, forerunner of snow, lifting over the +forest, and roaring like a stream in spate after heavy rain.</p> +<p>And it tossed against the window glass dried leaves and branches, +which beat on the pane like dead men’s finger-nails.</p> +<p>And it howled and whistled sadly in the chimney.</p> +<p>And the sorrowing maid saw in her mind’s eye Anne-Mie hanging +in the Gallows-field and her poor body pecked by the crows, and she +thought of the stain on her brave brother’s honour, and of the +fifteen poor virgins outraged by the Miserable.</p> +<p>But she did not weep.</p> +<p>For in her breast was a dumb pain, harsh anguish, and a bitter +thirst for vengeance.</p> +<p>And she asked very humbly of Our Lady if it were a good thing to let +the Miserable any longer go killing the maidens of the land of +Flanders.</p> +<p>And at cock-crow she rose from her bed, and her eyes were bright, +and proud was her countenance, and her head held high, and she said: +“I will go to Halewyn.”</p> +<p>And throwing herself on her knees she prayed to the very strong God +to give her courage and strength for the revenge of Anne-Mie, Toon the +Silent, and the fifteen virgins.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXV.</span> Of the sword of +the Lion.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">At sun-up she went to Sir Roel, who was still in bed, +on account of the cold. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb81" href= +"#pb81" name="pb81">81</a>]</span></p> +<p>Seeing her come in and fall on her knees before him, he said: +“What wilt thou, little one?”</p> +<p>“My lord father,” she said, “may I go to +Halewyn?”</p> +<p>At this he became afraid, and saw well enough that Magtelt, unable +to rid her heart of the thought of Anne-Mie, was minded to avenge her. +And he said with love and anger:</p> +<p>“No, my daughter, no, not thou; who goes there will not come +again!”</p> +<p>But seeing her go out of the room he never supposed that she would +fail in her obedience.</p> +<p>And Magtelt went thence to the lady Gonde, who was praying in the +chapel for the repose of Anne-Mie’s soul; and she pulled at her +mother’s dress, to show that she was there.</p> +<p>When the lady Gonde turned her head, Magtelt fell on her knees +before her:</p> +<p>“Mother,” said she, “may I go to +Halewyn?”</p> +<p>But her lady mother: “Oh no, child, no, not thou; who goes +there will not come again!”</p> +<p>And so saying, she opened her arms and let fall the golden ball +wherewith she warmed her hands, so that the embers spread this way and +that on the floor. Then she fell to moaning, weeping, trembling, and +chattering with her teeth, and embraced the girl tightly as if she +would never let her go.</p> +<p>But she never supposed that she could fail in her obedience.</p> +<p>And Magtelt went thence to Toon, who, despite his wounds, was +already out of bed, and seated on his coffer, warming himself before a +new-lit fire.</p> +<p>“Brother,” she said, “may I go to +Halewyn?”</p> +<p>Saying this she held herself straight before him.</p> +<p>The Silent lifted his head and looked at her severely, waiting for +her to speak further.</p> +<p>“Brother,” she said, “Siewert Halewyn has killed +this sweet maid whom I loved; and has done the same to fifteen other +pitiful virgins, who are hanging in the Gallows-field <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb82" href="#pb82" name= +"pb82">82</a>]</span>shamefully; he is for this country a greater evil +than war, death, and pestilence; brother, I would kill him.”</p> +<p>But Toon looked at Magtelt and answered nothing.</p> +<p>“Brother,” said she, “thou must not refuse me, for +my heart bids me go. Canst thou not see how sad and downcast I am in +this house, and how I shall die of sorrow if I do not that which I +should. But having been to him I shall come back joyous and singing as +before.”</p> +<p>But the Silent said not a word.</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said, “dost fear for me, seeing how many +good knights have assailed him and been by him shamefully overthrown, +even thyself, my brave brother, who carriest even now his marks? I am +not ignorant that on his shield is written: ‘None can stand +against me.’ But what others could not, one may do. He goes +glorying in his strength, more terrible than an oliphant, prouder than +a lion, thinking himself invincible, but when the beast goes with +assurance the hunter follows the more easily. Brother, may I go to +Halewyn?”</p> +<p>When Magtelt had reached so far in her speech, suddenly there fell +from the wall whereon it was fastened a fair sword well set and +sharpened, and with the blade stout to the hilt. The handpiece was of +cedar of Lebanon, set out with golden cresslets, and in the castle this +sword was held to be of marvellous virtue and holiness, because it had +been brought from the crusade by Roeland de Heurne, <i>the Lion</i>. +And none dared use it.</p> +<p>The sword, falling, lay at the feet of Magtelt.</p> +<p>“Brother,” said Magtelt, crossing herself, “the +good sword of the Lion has fallen at my feet; ’tis the very +strong God showing thus his will. He must be obeyed, brother; let me go +to Halewyn.”</p> +<p>And Toon the Silent, crossing himself as Magtelt had done, +answered:</p> +<p>“’Tis all one to me where thou go, if thou cherish thine +honour and carry thy crown straight.” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb83" href="#pb83" name="pb83">83</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Brother,” she said, “I thank you.” And the +noble maid began to tremble mightily from head to foot; and she who had +not shed a tear on hearing of Anne-Mie’s death and her +brother’s dishonour, fell to weeping abundantly, whereby her +bitter anger was melted, and bursting into tears by reason of her great +joy she said again: “Brother, brother, ’tis the hour of +God! I go to the reckoning!”</p> +<p>And she took the good sword.</p> +<p>The Silent, seeing her so brave, lifted himself straight before her +and put his hand on her shoulder. “Go,” said he.</p> +<p>And she went out.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXVI.</span> Of the noble +apparel of the maid Magtelt.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">In her own room she dressed herself in her most +beautiful clothes as quickly as she could.</p> +<p>What did the fair maid put on her white body? A bodice finer than +silk.</p> +<p>And over the fine bodice?</p> +<p>A robe of cloth-of-scarlet of Flemish blue, whereon were the arms of +<i>de Heurne</i> marvellously worked, and the edges next to the feet +and the neck embroidered with fine Cyprian gold.</p> +<p>Wherewith did the fair maid bind in her slender waist?</p> +<p>With a girdle of the hide of a lion, studded with gold.</p> +<p>What had the fair maid on her beautiful shoulders?</p> +<p>Her great <i>keirle</i>, which was of cramoisy stitched with Cyprian +gold, and covered her from head to foot, for it was an ample cloak.</p> +<p>What had the fair maid on her proud head?</p> +<p>A fine crown of beaten gold, whence fell tresses of pale hair as +long as herself.</p> +<p>What held she in her little hand?</p> +<p>The blessed sword brought from the crusade.</p> +<p>So apparelled she went out to the stable, and harnessed Schimmel, +the great war-horse, with his saddle of State, a <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb84" href="#pb84" name="pb84">84</a>]</span>fine +leathern seat, painted in divers colours, and richly worked with +gold.</p> +<p>And they set out together, through the snow falling thickly.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXVII.</span> How Sir Roel +and the lady Gonde questioned Toon the Silent, and of what he +answered.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">While Magtelt was on her way to Halewyn, and when the +first hour of her journey had already gone by, the lady Gonde +questioned Sir Roel: “Sir,” she said, “do you know +where our daughter may be?”</p> +<p>Sir Roel said that he knew nothing of it; and speaking to the +Silent: “Son,” said he, “dost thou know where thy +sister has gone?”</p> +<p>The Silent answered quietly: “Magtelt is a brave maid; whom +God leads he leads well.”</p> +<p>“Sir,” said the lady Gonde, “do not put yourself +to the trouble of questioning him further, for saying so much he has +used up his words.”</p> +<p>But Sir Roel to Toon: “Son, dost thou not know where she +is?”</p> +<p>“Magtelt,” answered he, “is a fair maid, and +carries her crown straight.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” exclaimed the lady Gonde, “I am growing +anxious; where is she then?”</p> +<p>And she went off to search the castle thoroughly.</p> +<p>But coming back she said to Sir Roel: “She is nowhere in the +house; she has defied our orders and gone to Halewyn.”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said Roel, “that cannot be. Children, in +this country, were always obedient to their parents.”</p> +<p>“Toon,” said she, “where is she? Toon, do you not +know?”</p> +<p>“The Miserable,” he answered, “fears the beautiful +maid; whom God leads he leads well.”</p> +<p>“Roel,” cried out the lady Gonde, “he knows where +our Magtelt has gone!” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb85" href= +"#pb85" name="pb85">85</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Son, answer,” said Sir Roel.</p> +<p>The Silent answered:</p> +<p>“The sword of the crusade fell from the wall at the +maid’s feet. Whom God guides succeeds in everything.”</p> +<p>“Toon,” cried the lady Gonde, “where is +Magtelt?”</p> +<p>“The virgin,” he said, “rides without fear, she +goes faster than the armed man: whom God leads he leads +well.”</p> +<p>The lady Gonde groaned:</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said, “our Magtelt will be killed, even +now she is stiff frozen, sweet Jesus! The sword of the crusade is of no +avail against Siewert Halewyn.”</p> +<p>The Silent answered:</p> +<p>“He glories in his strength, thinking himself invincible, but +when the beast goes with assurance the hunter follows more +easily.”</p> +<p>“Wicked son, how couldst thou think to send the little bird to +the hawk, the virgin to the enemy of virgins?”</p> +<p>The Silent answered:</p> +<p>“She will come whither none looks to see her: whom God leads +he leads well.”</p> +<p>“Sir,” said the lady Gonde to Roel, “you hear what +he says; she has gone to Halewyn, and ’tis this wicked son that +gave her leave.”</p> +<p>Sir Roel going to Toon:</p> +<p>“Son,” said he, “we had here but one joy, that was +our Magtelt. Thou hast abused thy privilege in giving her leave to go +thither. If she comes not back to us by nightfall I will curse thee and +banish thee from my house. May God hear me, and take from thee, in this +world bread and salt, and in the other thy portion in +Paradise.”</p> +<p>“God,” said the Silent, “will guide the sword. +Whosoever has done wrong, on him let fall the punishment.”</p> +<p>Gonde began crying out, weeping and making dole. Roel bade her be +silent, and sent a goodly troop of men-at-arms in the direction she had +taken. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb86" href="#pb86" name= +"pb86">86</a>]</span></p> +<p>But they came back without having seen anything of Magtelt, for they +had not dared to go into the territory of Halewyn by reason of the +spell.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXVIII.</span> The riding of +the maid Magtelt.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Singing and winding her horn, rides the noble +damosel.</p> +<p>And she is beautiful with a beauty from heaven; fresh and rosy are +her cheeks.</p> +<p>And straight she carries her crown.</p> +<p>And her little hand holds fast beneath her <i>keirle</i> the good +sword of Roel the Lion.</p> +<p>And wide open are her fearless eyes, searching the forest for Sir +Halewyn.</p> +<p>And she listens for the sound of his horse.</p> +<p>But she hears nothing, except, in the heavy silence, the still sound +of snowflakes falling quietly like feathers.</p> +<p>And she sees nothing, except the air whitened with snow, and white +also the long road, and white also the leafless trees.</p> +<p>What is it makes the flame glow in her clear brown eyes? It is her +high courage.</p> +<p>Why does she carry so straight her head and her crown? Because of +the great strength in her heart.</p> +<p>What is it so swells her breast? The cruel thought of Anne-Mie, and +her brother’s shame and the great crimes of Sir Halewyn.</p> +<p>And ceaselessly she looks to see if he be not coming, and if she can +hear nothing of the sound of his horse.</p> +<p>But she sees nothing, except the air whitened with snow, and white +also the long road, and white also the leafless trees.</p> +<p>And she hears nothing, except, in the heavy silence, the still sound +of snowflakes falling quietly like feathers.</p> +<p>And she sings.</p> +<p>Then, speaking to Schimmel, she said: “Together, good +Schimmel, we are going to a lion. Canst not see him <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb87" href="#pb87" name="pb87">87</a>]</span>in his +cavern, awaiting passers-by, and devouring poor maids?”</p> +<p>And Schimmel, hearing her, whinnied joyously.</p> +<p>“Schimmel,” said Magtelt, “thou art glad, I see, +to be going to the revenge of Anne-Mie with the good sword.”</p> +<p>And Schimmel whinnied a second time.</p> +<p>And Magtelt sought Sir Halewyn everywhere as she went through the +forest. And she listened well for the sound of his horse, and looked to +see if he were nowhere coming.</p> +<p>And she saw nothing, except the air whitened with snow, and white +also the long road, and white also the leafless trees.</p> +<p>And she heard nothing, except, in the heavy silence, the still sound +of snowflakes falling quietly like feathers.</p> +<p>And she wound her horn.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXIX.</span> Of the crow and +the sparrow, of the hound, the horse and the seven echoes.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">When she reached the middle part of the forest, she +saw through the thick snowflakes Sir Halewyn coming towards her.</p> +<p>The Miserable had that day on his body a fine dress of blue cloth, +on which was broidered in two colours his ugly arms. Round his waist he +had a fair belt studded with lumps of gold, and at his belt the golden +sickle, and over his dress a fair <i>opperst-kleed</i> of corn-coloured +cloth-of-scarlet.</p> +<p>Riding on his roan horse he came up to Magtelt, and she saw that he +was handsome.</p> +<p>Before his horse, barking and making a great noise, ran a hound like +a wolf, which, on seeing Schimmel, leapt at him and bit him. But +Schimmel, with a great kick which he let fly, set him dancing a sorry +dance, and singing a pitiful song over his broken paw.</p> +<p>“Ah,” thought the maid, “God grant, brave +Schimmel, that I may do better for the master than thou hast done for +the dog.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb88" href="#pb88" name= +"pb88">88</a>]</span></p> +<p>And the Miserable came to her:</p> +<p>“Salutation,” he said, “fair maid with clear brown +eyes.”</p> +<p>“Salutation,” she said, “Siewert Halewyn the +Invincible.”</p> +<p>But the Miserable: “What brings thee,” he said, +“into my lands?”</p> +<p>“My heart,” said Magtelt, “bade me come, I wished +greatly to see thee, and am content now that I can look at thee face to +face.”</p> +<p>“So,” said he, “have done and shall do all +virgins, even more beautiful than thou art.”</p> +<p>While they were talking together the wounded hound made a rush at +the horse and hung on to Halewyn’s <i>opperst-kleed</i> as if he +would drag him down to the ground.</p> +<p>Having done this, he went off and sat down in the snow beside the +road, and there lifting up his muzzle howled most lamentably.</p> +<p>“See,” said he, “my hound crying out to death. +Hast no fear, maid?”</p> +<p>“I go,” she said, “in God’s +keeping.”</p> +<p>Having moved forward a little way, talking and riding together, they +saw in the air above their heads, a crow of great size, on whose neck +was perched an angry little sparrow, pecking him, clutching him, +pulling out his feathers and piping furiously. Wounded, torn open, +flying this way and that, right, left, upward, downward, banging +against the trees blindly, and croaking with pain, this crow at length +fell dead, with his eyes pecked out, across Halewyn’s saddle. +Having looked at it a moment, he tossed it aside into the road; while +the sparrow flew off to a bough, and there, shaking out his feathers +merrily, fell a-piping at the top of his voice in celebration of his +victory.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Magtelt, laughing to the sparrow, “thou +art of noble blood, little bird; come hither, I will find thee a fair +cage and give thee thy fill of wheat, millet, hemp, and linseed.” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb89" href="#pb89" name= +"pb89">89</a>]</span></p> +<p>But Halewyn became mightily angry: “Common little +insolent!” he cried, “would that I had thee in a snare! +Shouldst not then sing for long thy victory over this noble +crow.”</p> +<p>None the less the sparrow went on singing without a break, and in +this wise seemed to mock at Halewyn, who said to Magtelt:</p> +<p>“Dost dare to applaud and give heart to this little animal, +knowing that my shield bears on it the crow of my glorious ancestor +Dirk! Knowest thou not that like him thou hast but little longer to +sing?”</p> +<p>“I,” she said, “shall sing as long as it pleases +God, my master.”</p> +<p>“There is for thee,” said he, “no other master +than I, for here I rule alone.” Suddenly he turned very cold, for +the heart of Anne-Mie, though it still beat, was become like ice in his +breast. So, thinking that this heart was about to dry up, he said to +Magtelt: “Thou comest in good season, fair virgin.”</p> +<p>“Whom God leads,” said she, “comes always in good +season.”</p> +<p>“But,” he said, “who art thou, riding in my land, +singing and winding the horn, who bringest hither such insolent +talk?”</p> +<p>“I,” said she, “am the Lady Magtelt, daughter of +Roel <i>le Preux</i>, Lord of Heurne.”</p> +<p>“And,” said he, “art thou not chilled, riding thus +in the snow?”</p> +<p>“None,” she said, “feels the cold in the race of +the Lords of Heurne.”</p> +<p>“And,” said he, “hast thou no fear, here at my +side and on my own land, where no one dares to set foot?”</p> +<p>“None,” she said, “knows of fear in the race of +the Lords of Heurne.”</p> +<p>“Thou art,” said he, “a brave maid.”</p> +<p>“I,” she said, “am daughter of Roel <i>le +Preux</i>, Lord of Heurne.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb90" +href="#pb90" name="pb90">90</a>]</span></p> +<p>He answered nothing to that, and they went on a while without +speaking.</p> +<p>Suddenly he said, lifting his head arrogantly: “Am I not truly +the Invincible, the Beautiful, the Strong? Shall I not be so always? +Yes, for all things come to my aid in the hour of victory. In former +times I must needs sing, in cold, snow, wind, and darkness, to call +virgins to me, but now the most proud, noble, and beautiful of maids +comes hither in broad day without song to call her: sure sign of +growing power. Who is my equal? None, save God. He has the heavens and +I the earth, and over all living things triumph and mastery. Let come +what may, armies, lightning, thunder, tempest; who can stand but +I?”</p> +<p>“I!” answered to his hideous blasphemy seven voices +speaking together.</p> +<p>Those voices were the echo of the <i>Seven Giants</i>, which sent +back every sound seven times over with great force and volume.</p> +<p>But the Miserable: “Hark!” said he, “my Lord Echo +dares to mock the Invincible.”</p> +<p>And he burst <span class="corr" id="xd20e2798" title= +"Source: our">out</span> laughing.</p> +<p>But the echo burst out laughing likewise, and laughed loud, long, +and terribly.</p> +<p>And Halewyn appeared well pleased at the noise, and went on +laughing, with the seven echoes after him.</p> +<p>And it seemed to Magtelt as it were a thousand men hidden in the +forest.</p> +<p>And meanwhile the hound had taken fright and howled so desperately +that it seemed to Magtelt as it were a thousand hounds in the forest +crying out to death.</p> +<p>The Miserable’s horse had taken fright also, and was so +terrified at his master’s laughter, the dog’s howls, and +his own neighing, all ringing out together, that he plunged, reared, +stood up on his hind legs like a man, laid back his ears with fear, and +would, without doubt, have thrown Halewyn from his back, if, driving +him onward with his <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb91" href="#pb91" +name="pb91">91</a>]</span>spurs, he had not made him pass by force the +place of the seven echoes.</p> +<p>But Schimmel had not moved at all, and this strangely enough, for he +was a young horse, apt to be alarmed.</p> +<p>When the noise was over they rode on their way, speaking few words +together as they rode.</p> +<p>And together they came to the Gallows-field.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXX.</span> How Magtelt came +to the Gallows-field.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">There Magtelt saw the sixteen virgins hanging, and +amongst them Anne-Mie, and all were covered over with snow.</p> +<p>Halewyn’s horse began again to rear, plunge, and lay back his +ears as a sign of fear; but Schimmel neighed, and pawed the ground +proudly with his hoof.</p> +<p>And Halewyn said to Magtelt: “Thou hast there an unfaithful +friend, who can neigh happily at the hour of thy death.”</p> +<p>But Magtelt answered nothing, and looking steadfastly at those poor +virgins prayed to the very strong God to help her in their revenge.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the Miserable alighted from his horse, and taking the +golden sickle in his hand came towards Magtelt.</p> +<p>“It is,” he said, “the hour of thy death. Get +down, therefore, as I have done.”</p> +<p>And in his impatience he would have lifted her from Schimmel’s +back.</p> +<p>But Magtelt:</p> +<p>“Leave me,” she said, “to get down by myself; if I +must die ’twill be without weeping.”</p> +<p>“Thou art a fine girl,” said he.</p> +<p>And she, having dismounted from her horse, said: “My lord, +before thou strikest, doff thine <i>opperst-kleed</i> of the colour of +corn, for the blood of virgins gushes fiercely, and if mine should +stain thee I should be grieved.”</p> +<p>But before the <i>opperst-kleed</i> was off his shoulders, his head +fell to the ground at his feet. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb92" +href="#pb92" name="pb92">92</a>]</span></p> +<p>And Magtelt, looking at the body, said: “He strode +confidently, thinking himself invincible; but when the beast goes with +assurance the hunter follows more easily.”</p> +<p>And she crossed herself.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXXI.</span> Of the sixteen +deaths and of the Prince of the Stones.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Suddenly the head spoke, saying: “Go thou to the +end of the road, and sound my horn aloud, so that my friends may +hear.”</p> +<p>But Magtelt:</p> +<p>“To the end of the road will I not go; thine horn will I not +sound; murderer’s counsel will I not follow.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the head, “if thou art not the Virgin +without pity, join me to my body, and with the heart that is in my +breast anoint my red wound.”</p> +<p>But Magtelt:</p> +<p>“I am the Virgin without pity; to thy body will I not join +thee, and with the heart that is in thy breast will I not anoint thy +red wound.”</p> +<p>“Maid,” said the head, weeping and speaking with great +terror, “maid, quickly, quickly, make on my body the sign of the +cross, and carry me into my castle, for he is coming.”</p> +<p>While the head was speaking, suddenly came out of the wood the +Prince of the Stones, and he came and seated himself on the body of the +Miserable, and taking in his hands the head: “Salutation,” +he said, “to the Ill-favoured one; art thou now content? What of +thy triumphant bearing, my lord the Invincible? She whom thou calledst +not came without a song: the virgin without fear, in whose hands is +death. But thou must sing once again thy sweet song, the song to call +virgins.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the head, “make me not sing, Lord +Prince of the Stones, for I know well enough that at the end there is +great suffering.”</p> +<p>“Sing,” said the Prince of the Stones, “sing, +coward that <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb93" href="#pb93" name= +"pb93">93</a>]</span>hast never wept to do evil, and now weepest at the +time of punishment: sing, Miserable.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the head, “have pity, Lord.”</p> +<p>“Sing,” said the Prince of the Stones, “sing, +’tis the hour of God.”</p> +<p>“My lord Prince,” said the head, “be not so hard +in my evil hour.”</p> +<p>“Sing, Miserable,” said the Prince of the Stones, +“sing, ’tis the hour of the reckoning.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the head, weeping, “I will sing, since +you are my master.”</p> +<div class="figure xd20e2900width" id="p092"><img src="images/p092.jpg" +alt="The Song of the Head" width="544" height="720"> +<p class="figureHead">The Song of the Head</p> +</div> +<p>And the head sang the faery song.</p> +<p>And suddenly there spread abroad in the air a smell of cinnamon, +frankincense, and sweet marjoram.</p> +<p>And the sixteen virgins, hearing the song, came down from the +gallows and drew near to the body of Halewyn.</p> +<p>And Magtelt, crossing herself, watched them pass, but felt no +fear.</p> +<p>And the first virgin, who was the daughter of the poor simpleton, +Claes the Dog-beater, took the golden sickle, and cutting into the +breast of the Miserable below the left nipple drew out a great ruby, +and put this on her wound, where it melted into rich red blood in her +breast.</p> +<p>And the head let a great pitiful cry of pain.</p> +<p>“So,” said the Prince of the Stones, “did the poor +virgins cry out when thou madest them pass from life unto death; +sixteen times hast thou brought death about, sixteen times shalt thou +die, besides the death thou hast suffered already. The cry is the cry +of the body when the soul leaves it; sixteen times hast thou drawn this +cry from other bodies, sixteen times shall cry out thine own; sing, +Miserable, to call the virgins to the reckoning.”</p> +<p>And the head sang again the faery song, while the first virgin +walked away silently towards the wood like a living person.</p> +<p>And the second virgin came to the body of the Miserable and did to +it as the first had done. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb94" href= +"#pb94" name="pb94">94</a>]</span></p> +<p>And she also walked away into the wood like a living person.</p> +<p>So did each of the sixteen virgins, and for each of them a ruby was +changed into good red blood.</p> +<p>And sixteen times the head sang the faery song, and sixteen times +gave the death-cry.</p> +<p>And one by one all the virgins went away into the depth of the +wood.</p> +<p>And the last of all, who was Anne-Mie, came to Magtelt, and kissing +her right hand wherein she had held the sword: “Blessed be +thou,” she said, “who camest without fear, and, delivering +us from the spell, leadest us into paradise.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Magtelt, “must thou go so far away, +Anne-Mie?”</p> +<p>But Anne-Mie, without hearing her, passed like the others into the +depth of the wood, walking silently over the snow like a living +person.</p> +<p>While the head was weeping and uttering bitter plaints, came out +from the forest the child of nine years old, whom the Miserable had +killed first of all. Still wearing her shroud she approached and fell +at the feet of the mannikin Prince of the Stones.</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said, kissing the head tenderly, stroking it, +caressing it, and wiping away its tears, “poor Miserable, I will +pray for thee to the very good God, who readily hears the prayers of +children.”</p> +<p>And the girl prayed in this wise:</p> +<p>“Dear Lord, see how much he is suffering! Is it not payment +enough that he should die sixteen times? Ah, Lord, sweet Lord, and you, +Madam Mary, who are so kind, deign to hear me and grant him +forgiveness.”</p> +<p>But the mannikin, starting up, pushed the child away and said +harshly: “This head is mine, thy prayers avail nothing; be off, +little ragamuffin, go back whence thou came.”</p> +<p>And the child went away like the other maids into the depth of the +wood. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb95" href="#pb95" name= +"pb95">95</a>]</span></p> +<p>Then he thrust his hand into the breast of the Miserable and pulled +out a heart of stone: then, in his rasping voice, which hissed like a +viper and scraped like a thousand pebbles under the iron sole of an +armed man, he said: “Ambitious heart, heart of stone, thou wast +in thy lifetime cruel and a coward; thou couldst not be content with +such ample gifts as God in His bounty had given thee, thou hadst no +desire towards goodness, courage, or just dealing, but towards gold, +power, and vain honours; thou hadst no love for anything, neither +father, mother, brother, nor sister; and so, to get more power and +higher jurisdiction, thou killedst the people of the land of Flanders, +without shame: and so also thou didst set thyself to hurt the weak, +sucking thy life from their life, and thy blood from their blood. So +have done and so shall always do this reptile order of ambitious ugly +men. Blessed be God, who, by the hands of this frail and winsome maid, +has cut off thine head from thy neck and taken thee from the +world.”</p> +<p>As he spoke he had thrown the heart down into the snow, and +trampling over it with great despite, kicking it with his toe like a +vile thing, and laughing bitterly, he spoke again in his rasping +voice:</p> +<p>“Stone thou art, stone shalt thou be a thousand years, but a +live stone, a suffering stone. And when men come and carve thee, cleave +thee, grind thee to powder, thou shalt endure it all without being able +to cry out. Ambitious heart, heart of stone, suffer and bleed, my +cousin.</p> +<p>“Thou hast starved poor folk, so shalt thou starve a thousand +years; thou hast brought cold into their homes, thou shalt freeze in +like manner. Ambitious heart, heart of stone, suffer and bleed, my +cousin.</p> +<p>“Thou shalt be a hearth-stone and burn with the heat; +paving-stone, and let men walk over thee; stone of a church, and bear +upon thee all the weight of the building; and thou shalt suffer every +evil, pain, and anguish. Ambitious heart, heart of stone, suffer and +endure, my cousin.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb96" href= +"#pb96" name="pb96">96</a>]</span></p> +<p>Having said this the Prince of the Stones, driving before him with +his foot the Miserable’s heart, disappeared among the trees of +the forest.</p> +<p>Then Magtelt looked at the head, and saw that its eyes were open +wide. She took it up and washed it with snow, then, carrying it with +her, rode away on Schimmel, leaving near the body Halewyn’s horse +and hound, the one moaning softly, the other watching it with sorrowful +wonderment.</p> +<p>As she took up the head, the hound growled, but did not dare touch +her.</p> +<p>And while she rode away, horse and hound stayed by the body, +downcast and sad, and covered with the snow which fell without +ceasing.</p> +<p>And they seemed to be guarding their master.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXXII.</span> How father, +mother, and sister sought everywhere their son and brother, and could +not find him.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Singing and winding her horn rides the noble maid +Magtelt.</p> +<p>And in her heart is joy, at the thought that Anne-Mie, the fifteen +virgins, and Toon the Silent are avenged.</p> +<p>And her hand holds fast beneath her <i>keirle</i> the good sword and +the head of Halewyn.</p> +<p>And Schimmel trots quickly, eager to be back in his stable.</p> +<p>While she was riding she saw, through the thick snow falling, an old +man coming towards her on a black horse.</p> +<p>And the old man said:</p> +<p>“Beautiful maid, riding so fast, hast seen my son +Halewyn?”</p> +<p>And Magtelt:</p> +<p>“I left thy son Halewyn well placed, taking his diversion in +the snow with sixteen maidens.”</p> +<p>And the old man rode on.</p> +<p>When she had gone farther she saw, through the thick snow falling, a +young and rosy-cheeked damosel coming towards her on a white palfrey. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb97" href="#pb97" name= +"pb97">97</a>]</span></p> +<p>And the damosel said:</p> +<p>“Beautiful maid, riding so fast, hast seen my brother +Halewyn?”</p> +<p>But Magtelt:</p> +<p>“Go farther, to the Gallows-field, where thou shalt see thy +brother in like guise to the sixteen maidens.”</p> +<p>And the damosel rode on.</p> +<p>Farther still on her way, Magtelt saw, through the thick snow +falling, a young man of haughty and stiff-necked countenance coming +towards her on a roan charger.</p> +<p>And the young man said:</p> +<p>“Beautiful maid, riding so fast, hast seen my brother +Halewyn?”</p> +<p>But Magtelt:</p> +<p>“Thy brother is a fair lord, so fair that round him sixteen +maidens stand sentinel, unwilling to let him go.”</p> +<p>And the young man rode on.</p> +<p>After travelling on her way still farther, she saw, through the +thick snow falling, an old woman, high-coloured and of robust seeming, +despite her great age, coming towards her.</p> +<p>And the old woman said:</p> +<p>“Beautiful maid, riding so fast, hast seen my son +Halewyn?”</p> +<p>But Magtelt:</p> +<p>“Thy son Siewert Halewyn is dead; see, here is his head +beneath my <i>keirle</i>, and his blood running thick on my +dress.”</p> +<p>And the old woman cried out:</p> +<p>“If thou had spoken these words earlier thou shouldst not have +ridden so far.”</p> +<p>But Magtelt:</p> +<p>“Thou art fortunate, old woman, in that I have left thee thine +own body and not slain thee as I have thy son.”</p> +<p>And the old dame took fright and made off.</p> +<p>And night fell. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb98" href="#pb98" +name="pb98">98</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XXXIII.</span> Of the feast +in the castle of Heurne, and of the head upon the table.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Schimmel trotted quickly, and soon Magtelt reached her +father’s castle and there sounded the horn.</p> +<p>Josse van Ryhove, who was gate-keeper that night, was filled with +amazement at the sight of her. Then he cried out: “Thanks be to +God, ’tis our damosel come home again.”</p> +<p>And all the household ran to the gate crying out likewise with great +noise and much shouting: “Our damosel is come home.”</p> +<p>Magtelt, going into the great hall, went to Sir Roel and knelt +before him:</p> +<p>“My lord father,” she said, “here is the head of +Siewert Halewyn.”</p> +<p>Sir Roel, taking the head in his hands and looking at it well, was +so overcome with joy that he wept for the first time since the eyes +were in his head.</p> +<p>And the Silent, rising up, came to Magtelt, kissed her right hand +wherewith she had held the sword, and wept likewise, saying: +“Thanks be to thee who hast brought about the +reckoning.”</p> +<p>The lady Gonde was like a woman drunk with joy, and could not find +her tongue. At last, bursting into sobs, melting into tears, and +embracing Magtelt eagerly:</p> +<p>“Ah, ah,” she cried out, “kiss me, kiss me, kiss +me, little one! She has slain the Miserable, the sweet maid; the +nightingale has vanquished the falcon! My child is come home again, +home again my child. Noël! Thanks be to God who loves aged mothers +and will not have them robbed of their children. Noël! See, +Magtelt the beautiful, Magtelt the singing-bird, Magtelt the joyous, +Magtelt the bright of heart, Magtelt the glorious, Magtelt the +victorious, Magtelt my daughter, my child, my all, +Noël!”</p> +<p>And Magtelt smiled at her, caressing her and stroking her hands +gently. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb99" href="#pb99" name= +"pb99">99</a>]</span></p> +<p>And the lady Gonde, weeping freely, let her do, without +speaking.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Sir Roel, “I never saw my wife before +in such festival mood.” Then suddenly he cried out:</p> +<p>“Festival,” quoth he, “this should be a day of +festival, the great feast of the house of Heurne!”</p> +<p>And he threw open the door to call his pages, grooms, men-at-arms, +and all the household.</p> +<p>But they all held back, not daring to enter.</p> +<p>“Ho!” cried he, in his great joyous voice, “where +are cooks and kitchen-maids? Where are cauldrons, pots, and +frying-pans? Where are barrels, kegs, flagons and bottles, tankards, +mugs, and goblets? Where is <i>clauwaert</i> simple and double? Where +is old wine and new wine? Where are hams and sausages, whales’ +tongues, and loins of beef, meat of the air, meat of the waters, and +meat of the fields? Bring in everything there is and set it on the +table, for this must be a feast-day in this house, feast for an +emperor, a king, a prince; for”—and so saying he held up +the Miserable’s head by the hair—“our beloved maid +has slain with her own hand the lord Siewert Halewyn.”</p> +<p>Hearing this they all cried out with a roar like thunder:</p> +<p>“Praise be to God! Noël to our damosel!”</p> +<p>“Go then,” said Sir Roel, “and do as I have +bid.”</p> +<p>And when the great feast was served the head was put in the middle +of the table.</p> +<p>On the morrow there was let cry war in the seigneury of Heurne. And +Sir Roel went with a goodly force of men to attack by arms the castle +of the Miserable, whereof all the relatives, friends, and followers +were either hanged or slain.</p> +<p>And My Lord the Count gave to the family of Heurne, the goods, +titles and territories of Halewyn, excepting only the ugly shield, and +theirs they remain to this day. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb103" +href="#pb103" name="pb103">103</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div id="ch4" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h2 class="main">Smetse Smee</h2> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">I.</span> Of Smetse, his +belly, and his forge.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Smetse Smee lived in the good town of Ghent, on the +Quai aux Oignons, beside the fair River Lys.</p> +<p>He was well skilled in his trade, rich in bodily fat, and with so +jolly a countenance that the most melancholy of men were cheered and +took heart for no more than the sight of him in his smithy, trotting +about on his short legs, head up and belly forward, seeing to +everything.</p> +<p>When work was in full swing in his shop, Smetse, listening to the +busy sounds round the fire, would say, with his hands clasped across +his stomach, quietly and happily: “By Artevelde! what are drums, +cymbals, fifes, viols, and bagpipes worth? For heavenly music give me +my sledges beating, my anvils ringing, my bellows roaring, my good +workmen singing and hammering.”</p> +<p>Then, speaking to them all: “Courage,” he would say, +“my children! Who works well from daybreak drinks the better for +it at vespers. Whose is that feeble arm down there, tapping with his +hammer so gently? Does he think he is cracking eggs, the faint-heart? +To those bars, Dolf, and plunge them in the water. To that breastplate, +Pier, beat it out for us fine and true: iron well beaten is proof +against bullets. To that plough-share, Flipke, and good work to it, +too: from the plough comes the world’s bread. To the door, Toon, +here comes the raw-boned nag of Don Sancio d’Avila, the knight +with the sour countenance, brought hither by his raw-boned groom, who +is for having him shod, no doubt: let him pay double for his Spanish +haughtiness and his harshness to poor folk!”</p> +<p>So went Smetse about his smithy, singing mostly, and whistling when +he was not singing. And for the rest getting much honest gain, +profiting in health, and, at vespers, drinking <i>bruinbier</i> with a +will in the inn of Pensaert. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb104" href= +"#pb104" name="pb104">104</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">II.</span> How Slimbroek the +Red put out the fire in Smetse’s forge.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">By and by there came to the Quai aux Oignons a certain +Adriaen Slimbroek, who set up, with the licence of the guild, another +smithy. This Slimbroek was an ugly, wizened, lean and puny personage, +white-faced, underhung in the jaw like a fox, and nicknamed the Red on +account of the colour of his hair.</p> +<p>Skilled in intrigue, expert in sharp-practice, master of arts in +cant and hypocrisy, and making himself out to be the finest of smiths, +he had interested in his business all the rich and gentle folk of the +town, who from fear or otherwise held to the Spaniards and wished ill +to those of the reformed faith. They were before, for the most part, +customers of Smetse, but Slimbroek had put them against him, saying: +“This Smetse is a knave to the bottom of his heart, he was a +marauder in his young days, sailing the seas with the men of Zeeland in +despite of Spain, on the side of this religion which they call +reformed. He still has many friends and relatives in Walcheren, more +particularly at Middelburg, Arnemuiden, Camp-Veere, and Flushing, all +obstinate Protestants, and speaking of the Pope of Rome and my Lords +the Archdukes without veneration.</p> +<p>“And for the rest,” added he, “this fellow Smetse +is altogether an atheist, reading the bible of Antwerp in despite of +the decrees, and going to church only because he is afraid, and not at +all because he will.”</p> +<p>By such slanders as these Slimbroek robbed Smetse of all his +customers.</p> +<p>And soon the fire was out in the forge of the good smith, and soon, +too, the savings were eaten up, and Dame Misery came to the +dwelling.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">III.</span> Wherein Slimbroek +is seen in the river prettily tricked out.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Brought to this pass Smetse, nevertheless, would not +let himself take to despair; but he was always sad and heavy +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb105" href="#pb105" name= +"pb105">105</a>]</span>of heart when, sitting in his cold smithy and +looking at all his good tools lying idle on the ground, he heard the +fair sound of hammers and anvils coming from Slimbroek’s +shop.</p> +<p>But what angered him most was that whenever he passed before +Slimbroek’s dwelling the traitor carrot-head would appear +suddenly on the threshold, and, saluting him graciously and giving him +fair compliments, would make a hundred flattering speeches, accompanied +by as many hypocritical salutations, and all for the sake of poking fun +at him and to laugh unkindly at his misery.</p> +<p>These ugly encounters and grimaces went on a long while, and Smetse +came to the end of his patience: “Ah,” said he, “it +angers me to be in such poor case; although I must submit, for such is +the holy will of God. But it irks me too bitterly to see this wicked +knave, who by his trickeries has taken away all my customers, so +amusing himself with my misery.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile Slimbroek spared him not at all, and each day became +sharper in speech, for the more wrong he did to the good smith the more +hate he bore him.</p> +<p>And Smetse swore to have his revenge on him, in such a way as to +spoil thenceforward his taste for mockery.</p> +<p>It so happened that one Sunday when he was standing on the Quai des +Bateliers, looking at the river with a crowd of watermen, townsfolk, +boys, and scholars who were idle for the holy day, suddenly there came +out of a pothouse, wherein he had been swallowing many pints of ale, +Slimbroek, bolder than usual on account of the drink. Seeing Smetse he +came and placed himself close to him, and with much gesticulation, loud +bursts of talk and laughter, said to him in an insolent tone: +“Good day, Smetse, good day, my worthy friend. How is thy fine +face? It seems to lose its fat, which was of good quality, Smetse. +’Tis a great pity. What is the reason for it? Art thou angry at +the loss of thy customers, Smetse? Thou must drink well to bring back +the joy to thy stomach, Smetse. We never see thee <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb106" href="#pb106" name="pb106">106</a>]</span>now +at vespers in the inn of Pensaert; why, Smetse? Hast no pennies to get +drink? I have plenty for thee, if thou wilt, Smetse.” And he +shook his money-bag to make it ring.</p> +<p>“Thank thee kindly,” said Smetse, “thou art too +generous, Master Slimbroek, ’tis my turn to stand thee drink +now.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” cried Slimbroek, feigning pity and compassion, +“why wilt thou stand drink to me? The world knows thou art not +rich, Smetse.”</p> +<p>“Rich enough,” answered the smith, “to stand thee +the best draught thou ever had.”</p> +<p>“Hark to him,” said Slimbroek to the crowd of watermen +and townsfolk, “hark to him. Smetse will stand us drink! The +world is coming to an end. ’Tis the year of golden rags. Smetse +will stand us drink! Ah! I shall taste with great pleasure the +<i>bruinbier</i> that Smetse will stand us. I am thirsty as an African +desert, thirsty as Sunday, thirsty as a devil half-boiled in the +cauldrons of Lucifer.”</p> +<p>“Drink then, Slimbroek,” said Smetse, and threw him into +the river.</p> +<p>Seeing this the people who were on the quay applauded heartily, and +all ran to the edge to have a good look at Slimbroek, who, falling into +the water head first, had struck and broken through the belly of a dog +a long while dead, which was floating down on the stream as such +carrion will. And he was tricked out round the neck with this dog in a +most marvellous manner, nor could he get rid of it, being busy with his +arms at keeping himself afloat, and his face was smeared all over with +offensive matter.</p> +<p>Notwithstanding that he was half-blinded, he dared not come out on +to the quay where Smetse was, but swam off towards the other bank, +decked with his carrion and blowing like a hundred devils.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Smetse, “dost find the +<i>bruinbier</i> to thy liking; is it not the best in all the land of +Flanders? But <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb107" href="#pb107" name= +"pb107">107</a>]</span>my good sir, take off thy bonnet to drink; such +headgear is not worn for river parties.”</p> +<p>When Slimbroek was in midstream, over against the bridge, Smetse +went up on to this bridge with the other onlookers, and Slimbroek, in +the midst of his puffing and snorting, cried out to Smetse: +“I’ll have thee hanged, accursed reformer!”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the good smith, “you are mistaken, my +friend; ’tis not I who am the reformer, but you, who devise these +new bonnets. Where got you this one? I have never seen such a one, +neither so beautiful, nor so richly ornamented with tufts and hangings. +Is the fashion coming to Ghent by and by?”</p> +<p>Slimbroek answered nothing, and struggled to get rid of the dead +dog, but in vain, and having paused in his swimming for this purpose, +went down to the bottom, and came up again more furious than ever, +blowing harder, and trying all the while to tear off the +body.”</p> +<p>“Leave your hat on, my master,” said Smetse, “do +not so put yourself out in order to salute me, I am not worth the +trouble. Leave it on.”</p> +<p>At last Slimbroek climbed out of the water. On the quay he shook off +the dog hastily and made away as fast as he could to his dwelling. But +he was followed by a crowd of young watermen and boys, who ran after +him hooting, whistling, covering him with mud and other filth. And they +continued to do the same to his house-front after he had gone in.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">IV.</span> Of the two +branches.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">In this wise Smetse had his revenge on Slimbroek, who +thereafter dared not look him in the face, and hid when he passed.</p> +<p>But the good smith, nevertheless, had no more pleasure in anything +than before, for with every passing day he became more and more needy, +having already, with his wife, used <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb108" href="#pb108" name="pb108">108</a>]</span>up what help came to +them from the guild, and also a small sum of silver from Middelburg in +Walcheren.</p> +<p>Ashamed to get his living by begging and knavery, and knowing how to +bear with his lot no longer, he resolved to kill himself.</p> +<p>So one night he left his house, and went out to the moats of the +town, which are bordered by fine trees, forked and spreading down to +the ground. There he fastened a stone to his neck, commended his soul +to God, and, stepping back three paces to get a better start, ran and +jumped.</p> +<p>But while he was in the very act he was caught suddenly by two +branches, which, falling upon his shoulders, gripped him like +man’s hands and held him fast where he was. These branches were +neither cold nor hard, as wood naturally is, but supple and warm. And +he heard at the same instant a strange and scoffing voice saying: +“Where goest thou, Smetse?”</p> +<div class="figure xd20e3226width" id="p108"><img src="images/p108.jpg" +alt="Smetse caught by the Two Branches" width="533" height="720"> +<p class="figureHead">Smetse caught by the Two Branches</p> +</div> +<p>But he could not answer by reason of his great astonishment.</p> +<p>And although there was no wind the trunks and branches of the tree +moved and swung about like serpents uncoiling, while all around there +crackled above ten hundred thousand sparks.</p> +<p>And Smetse grew more afraid, and a hot breath passed across his +face, and the voice, speaking again, but nearer, or so it seemed, +repeated: “Where goest thou, Smetse?”</p> +<p>But he could not speak for fear, and because his throttle was dry +and his teeth chattering.</p> +<p>“Why,” said the voice, “dost not dare answer him +who wishes thee naught but well? Where goest thou, Smetse?”</p> +<p>Hearing so pleasant and friendly a speech, the good smith took heart +and answered with great humility: “Lord whom I cannot see, I was +going to kill myself, for life is no longer bearable.”</p> +<p>“Smetse is mad,” said the voice.</p> +<p>“So I am, if you will, Lord,” answered the smith; +“nevertheless <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb109" href="#pb109" +name="pb109">109</a>]</span>when my smithy is lost to me by the cunning +of a wicked neighbour, and I have no way to live but by begging and +knavery, ’twould be greater madness in me to live than to +die.”</p> +<p>“Smetse,” said the voice, “is mad to wish himself +dead, for he shall have again, if he will, his fair smithy, his good +red fire, his good workmen, and as many golden <i>royals</i> in his +coffers as he sees sparks in this tree.”</p> +<p>“I,” exclaimed the smith in great delight, “shall +never have such fine things as that! They are not for such miserables +as I.”</p> +<p>“Smetse,” said the voice, “all things are possible +to my master.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the smith, “you come from the devil, +Lord?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” answered the voice, “and I come to thee on +his account to propose a bargain: For seven years thou shalt be rich, +thou shalt have thy smithy the finest in the town of Ghent; thou shalt +win gold enough to pave the Quai aux Oignons; thou shalt have in thy +cellars enough beer and wine to wet all the dry throttles in Flanders; +thou shalt eat the finest meats and the most delicate game; thou shalt +have hams in plenty, sausages in abundance, mince-pies in heaps; every +one shall respect thee, admire thee, sing thy praises; Slimbroek at the +sight of it shall be filled with rage; and for all these great benefits +thou hast only to give us thy soul at the end of seven +years.”</p> +<p>“My soul?” said Smetse, “’tis the only thing +I have; would you not, My Lord Devil, make me rich at a less +price?”</p> +<p>“Wilt thou or wilt thou not, smith?” said the voice.</p> +<p>“Ah,” answered Smetse, “you offer me things that +are very desirable, even, My Lord Devil (if I may say it without +offence), more than I wish; for if I might have only my forge and +enough customers to keep the fire alight I should be happier than My +Lord Albert or Madam Isabella.”</p> +<p>“Take or leave it, smith,” said the voice. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb110" href="#pb110" name="pb110">110</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Lord Devil,” answered Smetse, “I beg you not to +become angry with me, but to deign to consider that if you give me but +my forge, and not all this gold, wine, and meats, you might perhaps be +content to let my soul burn for a thousand years, which time is not at +all to be compared with the great length of all eternity, but would +seem long enough to whomever must pass it in the fire.”</p> +<p>“Thy forge for thee, thy soul for us; take or leave it, +smith,” said the voice.</p> +<p>“Ah,” lamented Smetse, “’tis dear bought, +and no offence to you, Lord Devil.”</p> +<p>“Well then, smith,” said the voice, “to riches +thou preferest beggary? Do as thou wilt. Ah, thou wilt have great joy +when, walking with thy melancholy countenance about the streets of +Ghent, thou art fled by every one and dogs snap at thy heels; when thy +wife dies of hunger, and thou chantest <i>mea culpa</i> in vain; then +when, alone in the world, thou beatest on thy shrunken belly the drum +for a feast, and the little girls dancing to such music give thee a +slap in the face for payment; then, at last, when thou dost hide +thyself in thy house so that thy rags shall not be seen in the town, +and there, scabby, chatter-tooth, vermin-fodder, thou diest alone on +thy dung-hill like a leper, and art put into the earth, and Slimbroek +comes to make merry at thy downfall.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Smetse, “he would do it, the +knave.”</p> +<p>“Do not await this vile end,” said the voice, “it +were better to die now: leap into the water, Smetse; leap, +Smee.”</p> +<p>“Alas,” lamented he, “if I give myself to you, I +shall burn for all eternity.”</p> +<p>“Thou wilt not burn,” said the voice, “but serve +us for food, good smith.”</p> +<p>“I?” cried Smetse, much frightened at these words, +“do you think to eat me down there? I am not good for eating, I +must tell you. There is no meat more sour, tough, <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb111" href="#pb111" name= +"pb111">111</a>]</span>common, and vulgar than mine is. It has been at +one time and another diseased with plague, itch, and other vile +maladies. Ah, I should make you a shabby feast, you and the others, My +Lord Devil, who have in hell so many souls which are noble, succulent, +tasty, and well-fed. But mine is not at all good, I declare.”</p> +<p>“Thou art wrong, smith,” said the voice. “Souls of +wicked emperors, kings, princes, popes, famous captains of arms, +conquerors, slayers of men, and other brigands, are always as hard as +an eagle’s beak; for so their omnipotence fashions them; we break +our teeth off bit by bit in eating them. Others, having been eaten up +beforehand by ambition and cruelty, which are like ravenous worms, give +us hardly a crumb to pick. Souls of girls who, without want or hunger, +sell for money what nature bids them give for nothing, are so rotten, +putrid, and evil-smelling that the hungriest of devils will not touch +them. Souls of vain men are bladders, and within there is nothing but +wind; ’tis poor food. Souls of hypocrites, canters, liars, are +like beautiful apples without, but beneath the skin are full of bile, +gall, sour wine, and frightful poison; none of us will have any ado +with them. Souls of envious men are as toads, who from spleen at being +so ugly, run yellow spittle on whatever is clean and shining, from +mouth, feet, and all their bodies. Souls of gluttons are naught but +cow-dung. Souls of good drinkers are always tasty, and above all when +they have about them the heavenly smell of good wine and good +<i>bruinbier</i>. But there is no soul so tasty, delectable, succulent, +or of such fine flavour as that of a good woman, a good workman, or a +good smith such as thou. For, working without intermission, they have +no time for sin to touch and stain them, unless it be once or twice +only, and for this reason we catch them whenever we can; but ’tis +a rare dish, kept for the royal table of My Lord Lucifer.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Smetse, “you have made up your mind to +eat me, I see well enough; nevertheless ’twould not cost you much +to give me back my forge for nothing.” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb112" href="#pb112" name="pb112">112</a>]</span></p> +<p>“’Tis no great discomfort,” said the voice, +“to be so eaten, for My Lord and King has a mouth larger than had +the fish whereby Jonah the Jew was swallowed in olden time; thou wilt +go down like an oyster into his stomach, without having been wounded by +his teeth in any wise; there, if it displease thee to stay, thou must +dance with feet and hands as hard as thou canst, and My Lord will at +once spit thee out, for he will not find it possible to stand for long +such a drubbing. Falling at his feet thou wilt show him a joyous face, +a steady look in his eyes, and a good countenance, and the same to +Madam Astarte, who, without a doubt, will take thee for her pet, as she +has done already to several; thereafter thou wilt have a joyous time, +serving My Lady merrily and brushing his hair for My Lord; as for the +rest of us, we shall be right glad to have you with us, for, among all +these familiar vile and ugly faces of conquerors, plunderers, thieves, +and assassins, ’twill do us good to see the honest countenance of +a merry smith, as thou art.”</p> +<p>“My Lord Devil,” said Smetse, “I do not merit such +honour. I can well believe, from what you tell me, that ’tis +pleasant enough down there with you. But I should be ill at ease, I +must tell you, being naturally uncouth in the company of strangers; and +so I should bring no joy with me, and should not be able to sing; and +therefore you would get but poor amusement from me, I know in advance. +Ah, give me back rather my good forge and my old customers, and hold me +quit; this would be the act of a royal devil and would sit well upon +you.”</p> +<p>Suddenly the voice spoke with anger: “Smith, wilt thou pay us +in such ape’s coin? Life is no longer of benefit to thee, death +is abhorrent, and thou wouldst have from us without payment the seven +full, rich and joyous years which I offer thee. Accept or refuse, thy +forge for thee, thy soul for us, under the conditions I have told +thee.”</p> +<p>“Alas,” said Smetse, “then I will have it so, +since it must be, Lord Devil!” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb113" href="#pb113" name="pb113">113</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Well then,” said the voice, “set thy mark in +blood to this deed.”</p> +<p>And a black parchment, with a crow’s quill, fell from the tree +at the smith’s feet. He read on the parchment, in letters of +fire, the pact of seven years, opened his arm with his knife, and +signed with the crow’s quill. And while he was still holding the +parchment and the quill, he felt them suddenly snatched from his hands +with violence, but he saw nothing, and only heard a noise as of a man +running in slipper-shoes, and the voice saying as it went into the +distance: “Thou hast the seven years, Smetse.” And the tree +ceased its swaying, and the sparks in the branches went out.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">V.</span> Of the flaming +ball, of the forge relit, and of the terrible great buffet which the +man with the lantern gave to Smetse’s wife.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Smetse, greatly amazed, rubbed his eyes, thinking he +was dreaming. Suddenly shaking himself: “This devil,” said +he, “was he not making fun of me after all? Have I verily gotten +my good forge back again? I will go and see.”</p> +<p>Having said this he started running in haste, and from far away saw +a great light reddening the sky above the houses, and it seemed to him +that the fire sending up this light was on the Quai aux Oignons; and he +said to himself: “Could that be my forge?” And he ran the +faster.</p> +<p>Coming to the quay he found it lit up as if by a sun, from the +paving-stones up to the tops of the trees which stood alongside, and he +said to himself: “It is my forge.”</p> +<p>Then he was seized and shaken with joy, his legs failed him, and his +breath grew short; but he kept running as hard as he could, and coming +at last to his house he saw his smithy wide open as in the daytime, and +at the back of it a great bright fire.</p> +<p>Unable to contain himself at this sight he fell to dancing, leaping, +and bursting out into laughter, crying: “I have my forge, my own +forge! Ghent is mine!” Then he went in. Inspecting, examining, +touching everything, he saw at <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb114" +href="#pb114" name="pb114">114</a>]</span>the sides, laid out in good +order, iron of all kinds: armour-iron, iron bars, plough-iron. +“By Artevelde!” he said, “the devil was not +lying!” And he took up a bar, and having made it red with the +fire, which was done quickly, started beating it, making the hammer +ring on the anvil like thunder, and crying: “Ha, so I have my +good tools back again, and hear once more this good music which has so +long been silent!” And while he was wiping away a tear of joy, +which gave an unaccustomed wetness to his eye, he saw on a chest near +by a good pewter pot standing, and beside it a fine mug, and he filled +up the mug several times and drank it down with relish: +“Ah,” he said, “the good <i>bruinbier</i>, the drink +which makes men! I had lost the taste for it! How good it is!” +Then he went back to hammering the iron bar.</p> +<p>While he was making all this noise, he heard himself called by name, +and looking to see whence the voice came he perceived his wife in the +half-open door which led from the kitchen, thrusting through her head +and looking at him with a startled face.</p> +<p>“Smetse,” she said, “is it thou, my +man?”</p> +<p>“Yes, wife,” said he.</p> +<p>“Smetse,” she said, “come close to me, I dare not +set foot in this forge.”</p> +<p>“And why not, wife?” said he.</p> +<p>“Alas,” she said, clinging to him and gazing into the +forge, “wert thou alone there, my man?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he.</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said, “Smetse, while you were away there +were strange happenings!”</p> +<p>“What happenings, wife?”</p> +<p>“As I was lying in bed,” she said, “suddenly the +house trembled, and a flaming ball passed across our room, went out +through the door, without hurting anything, down the stairs, and into +the forge, where, bursting, as I suppose, it made a noise like a +hundred thunder-claps. Suddenly all <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb115" href="#pb115" name="pb115">115</a>]</span>the windows and doors +were thrown open with a great clatter Getting out of bed, I saw the +quay all lit up, as it is now. Then, thinking that our house was on +fire, I came down in haste, went into the forge, saw the fire lit, and +heard the bellows working noisily. In each corner the iron of different +kinds arranged itself in place according to the work for which it was +used; but I could see no hands moving it, though there must have been +some for sure. I began to cry out in a fright, when suddenly I felt, as +it were, a glove of hot leather pressed against my mouth and holding it +shut, while a voice said: ‘Do not cry out, make no sound, if thou +wilt not have thy husband burnt alive for the crime of sorcery.’ +Nevertheless he who thus ordered me to keep silent made himself more +noise than I should ever have dared, but by a miracle none of our +neighbours heard it. As for me, my man, I had no more heart to make a +sound, and I fled back hither into the kitchen, where I was praying to +God when I heard thy voice, and dared to open the door a crack. Oh, my +man, since thou art here, explain, if thou can, all this +tumult.”</p> +<p>“Wife,” answered Smetse, “we must leave that to +those more learned than ourselves. Think only to obey the order of the +voice: keep thy mouth shut, speak to no one of what thou hast seen +to-night, and go back to thy bed, for it is still +pitch-dark.”</p> +<p>“I go,” she said, “but wilt thou not come also, my +man?”</p> +<p>“I cannot leave the forge,” said he.</p> +<p>While he was speaking thus there came towards them, one after +another, a baker carrying new-baked bread, a grocer carrying cheeses, +and a butcher carrying hams.</p> +<p>Smetse knew well enough that they were devils, from their white +faces, hollow eyes, scorched hair, twisted fingers, and also from the +fact that they walked with so little sound.</p> +<p>His wife, amazed to see them coming into her house with all this +food, would have stopped them, but they slipped <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb116" href="#pb116" name= +"pb116">116</a>]</span>between her hands like eels, and went into the +kitchen, walking straight and silently.</p> +<p>There, without a word spoken, the baker arranged his loaves in the +pan, while the butcher and grocer put their cheeses and hams in the +cool-of the cellar. And they finished their work, taking no notice of +the smith’s wife, who kept crying: “’Tis not here you +must bring these things; you have made a mistake, I tell you, my good +men. Go elsewhither.”</p> +<p>But they, notwithstanding her voice, arranged the loaves, meat, and +cheeses quietly.</p> +<p>This made the good woman more than ever put out, and she grew angry: +“I tell you,” she exclaimed, “you have made a +mistake; do you not hear me? You have made a mistake, ’tis not +here you should be; I say here, with us, in this place, in the house of +Smetse the beggar, who has not a farthing to his name, who will never +pay you. Alas, they will not listen to me!”</p> +<p>And crying out at the top of her voice: “Masters, you are at +Smetse’s, do you not understand? Smetse the beggar! Do I not say +it loud enough? Jesus, Lord, God! Smetse the needy! Smetse the ragged! +Smetse the starved! Smetse who is rich in nothing but lice! Who will +pay you nothing: do you hear me? Who will pay you nothing, nothing, +nothing!”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said the smith, “you are losing your head, +my dear. ’Tis I who sent for these good men.”</p> +<p>“Thou!” said his wife, “thou! but thou art mad, my +man; yes, he is mad, my masters, altogether mad. Ah, ’tis thou +who sent for them! ’Tis thou who sendest for loaves, hams, and +cheeses in this profusion, like a rich man, when thou knowest well +enough we cannot pay for them, and so showest thy bad faith!”</p> +<p>“Wife,” answered Smetse quietly, “we are rich, and +will pay for everything.”</p> +<p>“We rich?” she said, “ah, poor beggar-man. Do I +not know what is in our chest? Hast ever put thy nose in to +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb117" href="#pb117" name= +"pb117">117</a>]</span>see, any more than in the bread-pan? Art thou +become the housewife? Alas, my man is mad, God help us!”</p> +<p>Meanwhile the three men came back into the smithy.</p> +<p>Seeing them again, the wife ran to them: “Master +trades-men,” said she, “you heard me well enough, for you +are not deaf, I believe; we have nothing, we can pay you nothing; take +back your provisions.”</p> +<p>But without looking at her, nor seeming to hear her, the three went +off, walking stiff and silently.</p> +<p>No sooner had they gone out than a brewer’s cart drew up at +the door, and the brewer’s men came into the smithy carrying +between them a great barrel full of <i>bruinbier</i>.</p> +<p>“Smetse,” said his wife, “this is too much! Master +brewers, this is not for us; we do not like beer at all, we drink +water. Take this barrel to one of our neighbours, it is no concern of +ours, I tell you.”</p> +<p>None the less the brewer’s men took down the barrel of +<i>bruinbier</i> into the cellar, came up again, and went out to fetch +others, and placed them alongside the first to the number of twenty. +The good wife, trying to stop them, was pushed aside, while Smetse +could not speak for laughing, and could only draw her to his side, and +so prevent her from hurting herself on the barrels, which the men were +carrying from street to cellar with marvellous speed and dispatch.</p> +<p>“Oh,” she wailed, “let me be! This is too much, +Smetse! Alas! Now we are worse than beggars, we are debtors, Smetse: I +shall go and throw myself into the river, my man. To run up debts to +fill a famished stomach, that is shame enough; but to do so from simple +gluttony, that is unbearable deceit. Canst thou not be content with +bread and water got honestly with thy two hands? Art thou then become +such a delicate feeder that thou must have cakes, fine cheeses, and +full barrels? Smetse, Smetse, that is not like a good man of Ghent, but +rather like a Spanish rogue. Oh, I shall go and drown myself, my +man!”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said Smetse, troubled at seeing her in such +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb118" href="#pb118" name= +"pb118">118</a>]</span>distress, “do not weep. ’Tis all +ours, my dear, duly, and by right.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said moaning, “’tis an ill thing +to lose in this wise in your old age that honesty which was your only +crown.”</p> +<p>While the smith was endeavouring, but in vain, to console her, there +entered a vintner followed by three-and-thirty porters, each carrying a +basket full of bottles containing precious wines of great rarity, as +was shown by the shape of those said bottles.</p> +<p>When the good wife saw them she was overcome with despair, and her +courage failed her: “Come in,” she said in a piteous voice, +“come in, master vintners; the cellar is below. You have there a +goodly number of bottles, six score for certain. That is none too much +for us who are wealthy, wealthy of misery, vermin, and lice; come in, +my masters, that is the door of the cellar. Put them all there, and +more besides if you will.”</p> +<p>And giving Smetse a push: “Thou art happy, no doubt,” +said she, “for ’tis a fine sight for a drunkard, such as +thou art, to see all this good wine coming into the house without +payment. Ah, he laughs!”</p> +<p>“Yes, wife,” said Smetse, “I laugh with content, +for the wines are ours, ours the meats, ours the loaves and cheeses. +Let us make merry over it together.” And he tried to embrace her: +but she, shaking herself free: “Oh, oh,” she said, +“he runs up debts, he tells lies, he laughs at his shame: he has +all the vices, none is wanting.”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said Smetse, “all this is ours, I tell +thee again. To this amount am I paid in advance for certain large +orders which have been graciously given me.”</p> +<p>“Art thou not lying?” said she, growing a little +calmer.</p> +<p>“No,” said he.</p> +<p>“All this is ours?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, “by the word of honour of a +citizen of Ghent.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb119" href= +"#pb119" name="pb119">119</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Ah, my man, then we are henceforward out of our +trouble.”</p> +<p>“Yes, wife,” said he.</p> +<p>“’Tis a miracle from God.”</p> +<p>“Alas,” said he.</p> +<p>“But these men come hither by night, against the usual custom, +tell me the reason of that.”</p> +<p>“He who knows the reason for everything,” said Smetse, +“is an evil prier. Such a one am not I.”</p> +<p>“But,” said she, “they speak never a +word.”</p> +<p>“They do not like to talk,” said Smetse, “that is +clear. Or it may be that their master chose them dumb, so that they +should not waste time chattering with housewives.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that may be,” she said, while the thirty-first +porter was going past, “but ’tis very strange, I cannot +hear their footfalls, my man?”</p> +<p>“They have for certain,” said Smetse, “soles to +suit their work.”</p> +<p>“But,” she said, “their faces are so pale, sad, +and motionless, that they seem like faces of the dead.”</p> +<p>“Night-birds have never a good complexion,” said +Smetse.</p> +<p>“But,” said his wife, “I have never seen these men +among the guilds of Ghent.”</p> +<p>“Thou dost not know them all,” said Smetse.</p> +<p>“That may be, my man.”</p> +<p>In this manner the smith and his wife held converse together, the +one very curious and disturbed, the other confused and ashamed at his +lies.</p> +<p>Suddenly, as the three-and-thirtieth porter of the master-vintner +was going out of the door, there rushed in in great haste a man of +middling height, dressed in a short black smock, pale-haired, +large-headed, wan-faced, stepping delicately, quick as the wind, stiff +as a poker; for the rest, smiling continually, and carrying a +lantern.</p> +<p>The man came up to Smetse hurriedly, without speaking <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb120" href="#pb120" name="pb120">120</a>]</span>bade +him follow, and seized him by the arm. When Smetse hung back he made +him a quick sign to have no fear, and led him into the garden, whither +they were followed by the good wife. There he took a spade, gave his +lantern to Smetse to hold, dug in the earth rapidly and opened a great +hole, pulled out of the hole a leathern bag, opened it quickly, and +with a smile showed Smetse and his wife that it was full of gold coin. +The good wife cried out at the sight of the gold, whereupon he gave her +a terrible great buffet in the face, smiled again, saluted, turned on +his heel and went off with his lantern.</p> +<p>The good wife, knocked down by the force of the blow, and quite +dazed, dared not cry out again, and only moaned softly: “Smetse, +Smetse,” said she, “where art thou, my man? my cheek hurts +me sorely.”</p> +<p>Smetse went to her and picked her up, saying: “Wife, let this +buffet be a lesson to thee henceforward to control thy tongue better; +thou hast disturbed with thy crying all the good men who have come here +this night for my good; this last was less patient than the rest and +punished thee, not without good reason.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said, “I did ill not to obey thee; what +must I do now, my man?”</p> +<p>“Help me,” said Smetse, “to carry the bag into the +house.”</p> +<p>“That I will,” she said.</p> +<p>Having taken in the bag, not without some trouble, they emptied it +into a coffer.</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said, seeing the gold run out of the bag and +spread itself this way and that, “’tis a fine sight. But +who was this man who showed thee this sack with such kindness, and who +gave me this terrible great blow?”</p> +<p>“A friend of mine,” said Smetse, “a great +discoverer of hidden treasure.”</p> +<p>“What is his name?” said she.</p> +<p>“That,” said Smetse, “I am not allowed to tell +thee.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb121" href="#pb121" name= +"pb121">121</a>]</span></p> +<p>“But, my man...”</p> +<p>“Ah, wife, wife,” said Smetse, “thou wilt know too +much. Thy questioning will be thy death, my dear.”</p> +<p>“Alas,” said she.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VI.</span> Wherein the wife +of Smetse shows the great length of her tongue.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">When the day was up, Smetse and his wife sat down +together to the good loaves, the fat ham, the fine cheese, the double +<i>bruinbier</i>, and the good wines, and so eased their stomachs, hurt +a little by being such a long while hungry.</p> +<p>Suddenly there came in all the old workmen, and they said:</p> +<p>“<i>Baes</i> Smetse, thou didst send for us; here we are, +right glad to see thy fire lit up again, and to work for thee who wast +always so good a master.”</p> +<p>“By Artevelde!” said Smetse, “here they all are: +Pier, Dolf, Flipke, Toon, Hendrik, and the rest. Good day, my +lads!” and he gripped them by the hand, “we must +drink.”</p> +<p>While they were drinking, his wife said suddenly with a toss of the +head: “But no one sent for you all! Is that not so, +Smetse?”</p> +<p>“Wife, wife,” said the smith, “wilt thou never +learn to hold thy tongue?”</p> +<p>“But,” said she, “I am speaking the truth, my +man.”</p> +<p>“Thou art speaking foolishly,” said he, “of things +whereof thou knowest nothing. Stay in thy kitchen and do not come +meddling in my forge.”</p> +<p>“<i>Baesine</i><span class="corr" id="xd20e3539" title= +"Not in source">,</span>” said Flipke, “without wishing to +belie you, I must tell you that a message was sent to us in the name of +the <i>baes</i>. For a man came in the middle of the night knocking on +the doors of our houses, shouting out that we should all of us come +hither without fail this morning for work of great urgency, and that +for this we should each be given a <i>royal</i> as forfeit to our +several masters. And we came, all of us, not wishing to leave our +<i>baes</i> in the lurch.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb122" +href="#pb122" name="pb122">122</a>]</span></p> +<p>“’Tis good of you,” said Smetse, “ye shall +have the promised <i>royal</i>. But come with me, I will apportion to +each of you the usual task.” This he did, and once again the good +music of sledges beating, anvils ringing, bellows blowing, and workmen +singing was heard in the forge of the good smith.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Smetse went to his wife and said to her with great heat: +“Dost think it a fine thing to gainsay me before these good men! +Chattering magpie, wilt never learn to hold thy tongue? Hast not +already to-night been admonished sharply enough? Must thou have more +telling?”</p> +<p>“But, Smetse,” said his wife, “I did not know that +you had sent for them.”</p> +<p>“That is no reason,” he said, “why thou shouldst +give me the lie before all my workmen; canst thou not leave thy +speaking until I have done, or else hold thy tongue altogether, which +would be better still.”</p> +<p>“Smetse,” said his wife, “I never saw you so angry +before. Do not beat me, my man, I will be henceforward as dumb as this +cheese.”</p> +<p>“So you should,” said Smetse.</p> +<p>“But, my man,” said she, “canst not explain to me +somewhat of all these happenings?”</p> +<p>“Sometime,” he said, and went back into his smithy.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VII.</span> Of Smetse the +Rich.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">That day there came to Smetse many persons, both +notable and common, nobles, priests, burgesses, and peasants, to give +him orders for much work, and so it went on again on other days, and +all through the year.</p> +<p>Soon the smithy became too small, and Smetse had to enlarge it by +reason of the ever-growing numbers of his workmen. And the work which +they did was so beautiful and so marvellously well done that the fame +of it spread abroad to foreign and distant countries, and people came +to see and admire it from Holland, Zeeland, Spain, Germany, England, +and even from the land of the Turk. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb123" href="#pb123" name="pb123">123</a>]</span></p> +<p>But Smetse, thinking of the seven years, was not happy at all.</p> +<p>Soon his coffers were full of fine <i>crusats</i>, <i>angelots</i>, +<i>rose nobles</i>, and golden jewels. But he found no pleasure in +looking at all this wealth, for he thought them poor payment for giving +his soul to the devil for all the length of eternity.</p> +<p>Red Slimbroek lost all his customers, who came back one by one to +Smetse. Ragged and miserable he used to come every day and lounge on +the quay, watching from there the bright fire glowing in the forge of +the good smith, and, so standing, he seemed dazed and stupid, like an +owl watching a doit. Smetse, knowing that he was needy, sent him +several customers to bring him some means of sustenance, and also more +than once a gift of money. But although he thus repaid evil with good +he was no longer happy, thinking of the seven years.</p> +<p>Smetse’s wife, finding him so wealthy, bought for dinner each +Sunday legs of fat mutton, geese, capons, turkeys, and other good +meats; invited to her table his relatives, friends, and workmen; and +then there would be a great feast, well washed down with double +<i>bruinbier</i>. But Smetse, though he ate and drank like an emperor, +was not at all happy, thinking of the seven years. And the steam from +the roast meats spread abroad on the Quai aux Oignons, so fragrant and +succulent, and so sweetening the air, that all the dogs wandering in +the streets of the town would stop before the house and sniff at the +smell, and there on their haunches, nose in air, would wait for crumbs: +and the beggars, of whom there were great numbers, came thither +likewise and tried to drive away the dogs. Thereupon ensued furious +battles, in which many were badly bitten. Seeing this, Smetse’s +wife and other women would come every Sunday to the door with baskets +of alms, and there, before the meal began, would give the beggars good +bread, slices of meat, and two farthings to get themselves drink, and +all this with soft words and fair speaking; then they charged them to +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb124" href="#pb124" name= +"pb124">124</a>]</span>go away from the quay, which they did in an +orderly manner. But the dogs stayed behind, and at the end of the feast +there was given to them likewise food of some sort. And then they would +go off also, taking each his bone or other booty.</p> +<p>Smetse and his wife together took both dogs and men into their +affection; to the beggars he gave food and shelter; and so also to all +the dogs of Ghent that were lame, infirm, or sickly, until at length +his house came to be called the Dogs’ Hospital and the Home of +the Poor.</p> +<p>Nevertheless he was not at all happy, thinking of the seven +years.</p> +<p>Worn and troubled with these thoughts, Smetse stopped singing and +lost his fat, shrivelled visibly, became melancholy and moody, and in +his smithy said never a word, except to give a necessary order.</p> +<p>And he was no longer called <i>Smetse the Merry</i>, but <i>Smetse +the Rich</i>.</p> +<p>And he counted the days.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">VIII.</span> How there came a +ragged, wayfarer to Smetse’s door, and with him, on an ass, a +sweet wife and a little child.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">On the two hundred and forty-fifth day of the seventh +year, when the plum-trees were in bloom, Smetse, dumb as a stone, was +taking a little noonday rest. He sat on a wooden bench opposite his +door, and with melancholy mien looked at the trees planted all along +the quay, and the small birds playing among the branches or squabbling +and pecking one another over some morsel of food, and blinked in the +bright sun which made these birds so merry, and heard at his back the +goodly sounds of his forge, his wife preparing dinner, and his workmen +hurrying at their work so that they might be off to their meal, for it +was nearing the time; and he said to himself that in hell he would see +neither the sun, nor the birds, nor the trees with their load of green +leaves, nor hear any more the sounds of his forge, nor the smiths +hurrying, nor his good wife preparing dinner. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb125" href="#pb125" name="pb125">125</a>]</span></p> +<p>By and by the workmen came out, and Smetse was left sitting alone on +his bench, pondering in his mind whether there were not some way +whereby he might outwit the devil.</p> +<p>Suddenly there drew up at his door a man of piteous appearance, with +brown hair and beard, dressed like a ragged townsman, and carrying a +great staff in his hand. He was walking beside an ass, and leading it +along by a rein. On the ass rode a sweet and beautiful young woman with +a noble mien, suckling a little child, who was quite naked, and of such +gentle and winsome countenance that the sight of it warmed +Smetse’s heart.</p> +<p>The ass stopped at the door of the smithy and began to bray +loudly.</p> +<p>“Master smith,” said the man, “our ass has cast +one of his shoes on his way hither, wilt thou be pleased to give orders +that another should be given him?”</p> +<p>“I will do it myself,” said Smetse, “for I am +alone here.”</p> +<p>“I should tell thee,” said the man, “that we are +beggars, without money.”</p> +<p>“Have no care for that,” said Smetse, “I am rich +enough to be able to shoe in silver without payment all the asses in +Flanders.”</p> +<p>Hearing this the woman alighted from the ass and asked Smetse if she +might sit down on the bench.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he.</p> +<p>And while he was fastening up the beast, paring his hoof and fitting +the shoe, he said to the man: “Whence come you, with this woman +and this ass?”</p> +<p>“We come,” said the man, “from a distant country, +and have still far to go.”</p> +<p>“And this child whom I see naked,” said Smetse, +“does he not oftentimes suffer from the cold?”</p> +<p>“Nay,” said the man, “for he is all warmth and all +life.”</p> +<p>“Well, well,” said Smetse, “you do not cry down +your own children, master. But what is your meat and drink while you +are travelling in this manner?” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb126" href="#pb126" name="pb126">126</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Water from streams,” said the man, “and such +bread as is given us.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Smetse, “that is not much, I see, for +the ass’s panniers are light. You must often go +hungry.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the man.</p> +<p>“This,” said Smetse, “is displeasing to me, and it +is most unwholesome for a nursing mother to suffer hunger, for so the +milk turns sour, and the child grows in sickly wise.” And he +called out to his wife: “Mother, bring hither as many loaves and +hams as will fill the panniers of this beast. And do not forget some +double <i>bruinbier</i>, ’tis heavenly comfort for poor +travellers. And a good peck of oats for the ass.”</p> +<p>When the panniers were filled and the beast shod, the man said to +Smetse: “Smith, it is in my mind to give thee some recompense for +thy great goodness, for such as thou seest me I have great +power.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Smetse, with a smile, “I can see that +well enough.”</p> +<p>“I am,” said the man, “Joseph, nominal husband of +the very blessed Virgin Mary, who is sitting on this bench, and this +child that she has in her arms is Jesus, thy Saviour.”</p> +<p>Smetse, dumbfounded at these words, looked at the wayfarers with +great astonishment, and saw about the man’s head a nimbus of +fire, a crown of stars about the woman’s, and, about the +child’s, beautiful rays more brilliant than the sun, springing +from his head and girdling him round with light.</p> +<p>Thereupon he fell at their feet and said: “My Lord Jesus, +Madam the Virgin, and my Master St. Joseph, grant me pardon for my lack +of understanding.”</p> +<p>To this St. Joseph replied: “Thou art an honest man, Smetse, +and righteous as well. For this reason I give thee leave to make three +requests, the greatest thou canst think of, and my Lord Jesus will +listen to them favourably.”</p> +<p>At these words Smetse was filled with joy, for it seemed to him that +in this way he might perhaps escape the devil; <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb127" href="#pb127" name="pb127">127</a>]</span>but +at the same time he did not dare to avow that he had traded his soul +away. So he remained in silence for a few moments, thinking of what +things he could ask, then suddenly said, with great respect: “My +Lord Jesus, Madam St. Mary, and you, Master St. Joseph, will you please +to enter my dwelling? There I can tell you what boons I ask.”</p> +<p>“We will,” said St. Joseph.</p> +<p>“Mother,” said Smetse to his wife, “come hither +and look to the ass of these noble lords.”</p> +<p>And Smetse went in before them, sweeping the threshold so that there +should be no dust to touch the soles of their feet.</p> +<p>And he took them into his garden, where there was a fine plum-tree +in full blossom. “My Lord, Madam, and Sir,” said Smetse, +“will it please you to order that whosoever shall climb up into +this plum-tree shall not be able to come down again unless I so +desire?”</p> +<p>“It will,” said St. Joseph.</p> +<div class="figure xd20e3698width" id="p126"><img src="images/p126.jpg" +alt="In Smetse’s Garden" width="547" height="720"> +<p class="figureHead">In Smetse’s Garden</p> +</div> +<p>Thence he led the way into the kitchen, where there stood a great +and precious arm-chair, well padded in the seat, and of enormous +weight.</p> +<p>“My Lord, Madam, and Sir,” said Smetse, “will it +please you that whosoever shall sit in this chair shall not be able to +rise unless I so desire?”</p> +<p>“It will,” said St. Joseph.</p> +<p>Then Smetse fetched a sack, and, showing it to them, said: “My +Lord, Madam, and Sir, will it please you that, whatsoever his stature, +man or devil shall be able to get into this sack, but not out again, +unless I so desire?”</p> +<p>“It will,” said St. Joseph.</p> +<p>“My Lord, Madam, and Sir,” said Smetse, “thanks be +unto you. Now that I have made my three requests I have naught else to +ask of your goodness, save only your blessing.”</p> +<p>“We will give it,” said St. Joseph.</p> +<p>And he blessed Smetse, and thereafter the holy family went upon +their way. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb128" href="#pb128" name= +"pb128">128</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">IX.</span> What Smetse did in +order to keep his secret.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">The good wife had heard nothing of what was said to +her man by the celestial wayfarers, and she was amazed to see the +behaviour and hear the speech of the good smith. But she was more so +than ever when, on the departure of the all-powerful visitors, Smetse +began to give forth bursts of laughter, to rub his hands, take hold of +her, thump her on the chest, twist her this way and that, and say in a +triumphant tone: “It may be, after all, that I shall not burn, +that I shall not roast, that I shall not be eaten! Art not glad of +it?”</p> +<p>“Alas,” she said, “I cannot understand what you +are talking about, my man; have you gone mad?”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said Smetse, “do not show me the whites of +thine eyes in this pitiful manner, ’tis no time for that. Canst +not see how light my heart has grown? ’Tis because I have got rid +of a burden on my shoulders heavier than the belfry itself; I say this +belfry, our own, with the dragon taken from that of Bruges. And I am +not to be eaten. By Artevelde! my legs bestir themselves of their own +accord at the thought of it. I dance! Wilt not do likewise? Fie, moody +one, brewing melancholy when her man is so happy! Kiss me, wife, kiss +me, mother, for my <i>proficiat</i>; and so thou shouldst, for instead +of despair I have found a good and steadfast hope. They think to roast +me with sauces and feast off my flesh to their fill. I will have the +laugh of them. Dance, wife, dance!”</p> +<p>“Ah, Smetse,” said she, “you should take a purge, +my man; they say ’tis good for madness.”</p> +<p>“Thou,” he said, tapping her on the shoulder with great +affection and tenderness, “talkest boldly.”</p> +<p>“Hark,” said she, “to the good doctor preaching +reason to me! But wert thou mad or not, Smetse, doffing thy bonnet as +thou did to those beggars who came hither sowing their lice; giving to +me, thy wife, their ass to hold; filling their hampers with our best +bread, <i>bruinbier</i>, and ham; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb129" +href="#pb129" name="pb129">129</a>]</span>falling on thy knees before +them to have their blessing, and treating them like archdukes, with a +torrent of My Lords, Sirs, and Madams.”</p> +<p>At these words Smetse saw well enough that the lordly wayfarers had +not wished to discover themselves to any but he. “Wife,” he +said, “thou must not question me further, for I can tell thee +nothing of this mystic happening, which it is not given thee to +understand.”</p> +<p>“Alas,” said she, “then ’tis worse than +madness, ’tis mystery. Thou dost ill to hide thyself from me in +this wise, Smetse, for I have always lived in thy house, faithful to +thee only, cherishing thine honour, husbanding thy wealth, neither +lending nor borrowing, holding my tongue in the company of other wives, +considering thy secrets as mine own and never breathing a word of them +to any one.”</p> +<p>“I know it,” said Smetse, “thou hast been a good +and true wife.”</p> +<p>“Then why,” said she, “knowing this, hast thou not +more faith in me? Ah, my man, it hurts me; tell me the secret, I shall +know how to keep it, I promise thee.”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said he, “knowing nothing thou wilt be +able to hold thy tongue the more easily.”</p> +<p>“Smetse,” said she, “wilt thou verily tell me +nothing?”</p> +<p>“I cannot,” said he.</p> +<p>“Alas,” said she.</p> +<p>By and by the workmen came back, and Smetse gave each of them a good +<i>royal</i> to get themselves drink.</p> +<p>Whereat they were all so merry, and felt themselves so rich, that +for three days none of them put his nose into the smithy, save one old +man who was too withered, stiff, short of breath, and unsteady on his +legs to go swimming with the others in the Lys, and afterwards drying +in the sun among the tall grasses, dancing in the meadows to the music +of rebecks, bagpipes, and cymbals, and at night in the tavern emptying +pots and draining glasses. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb130" href= +"#pb130" name="pb130">130</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">X.</span> Of the Bloody +Councillor.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">At length the day came on which the good smith was due +to hand over his soul to the devil, for the seventh year had run out, +and plums were once again ripe.</p> +<p>At nightfall, when certain workmen were busy on a grating for the +Franciscan brothers which was to be done that night, and had stayed +behind with Smetse for that purpose, there came into the forge an +evil-looking fellow, with greasy white hair, a rope round his neck, his +jaw dropped, his tongue hanging out, and dressed in an ill-found habit +like a nobleman’s servant fallen on evil days.</p> +<p>This fellow, without being heard by any one there as he walked +across the floor, came quickly up to Smetse and put his hand on his +shoulder. “Smetse,” he said, “hast packed thy +bundle?”</p> +<p>Hearing this the smith swung round. “Packed,” he said, +“and how does my packing concern thee, master +bald-pate?”</p> +<p>“Smetse,” replied the fellow in a harsh voice, +“hast forgotten thy restored fortunes, and the good times thou +hast enjoyed, and the black paper?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” said Smetse, doffing his bonnet with great +humility, “I have not forgotten; pardon me, my lord, I could not +call to mind your gracious countenance. Will you be pleased to come +into my kitchen, and try a slice of fat ham, taste a pot of good +<i>bruinbier</i>, and sip a bottle of wine? We have time enough for +that, for the seven years are not yet struck, but want, if I am not +mistaken, still two hours.”</p> +<p>“That is true,” said the devil; “then let us go +into thy kitchen.”</p> +<p>So they entered in and sat down to the table.</p> +<p>The good wife was greatly astonished to see them come in. Smetse +said to her: “Bring us wine, <i>bruinbier</i>, ham, sausages, +bread, cakes, and cheeses, and the best of each that we have in the +house.”</p> +<p>“But, Smetse,” said she, “you waste the good +things <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb131" href="#pb131" name= +"pb131">131</a>]</span>which God has given you. ’Tis well to come +to the help of poor folk, but not to do more for one than another. +Beggar-men are beggar-men, all are equal!”</p> +<p>“Beggar-men!” exclaimed the devil, “that I am not +and never was. Death to the beggar-men! To the gallows with the +beggar-men!”</p> +<p>“My lord,” said Smetse, “I beg you not to be angry +with my good wife, who knows you not at all. Wife, consider and look at +our guest with great attention, but greater respect, and afterwards +thou mayest tell thy gossips that thou hast seen my Lord Jacob Hessels, +the greatest reaper of heretics that ever was.</p> +<p>“Ah, wife, he mowed them down grandly, and had so many of them +hanged, burnt, and tortured in divers ways, that he could drown himself +a hundred times in the blood of his dead. Go, wife, go and fetch him +meat and drink.”</p> +<p>While he was munching, Smetse said: “Ah, my lord, I soon +recognized you by your particular way of saying: ‘To the +gallows!’ and also by this rope which finished off your life in +so evil a manner. For Our Lord said: ‘Whoso liveth by the rope +shall perish by the rope.’ My Lord Ryhove was harsh and +treacherous toward you, for besides taking your life he took also your +beard, which was a fine one.</p> +<p>“Ah, that was an evil trick to play on so good a councillor as +you were in those days when you slept so quietly and peaceably in the +Bloody Council—I should say the Council of Civil Disorders, +speaking respectfully—and woke up only to say: ’To the +gallows!’ and then went to sleep again.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the devil, “those were good +times.”</p> +<p>“So they were,” said Smetse, “times of riches and +power for you, my lord. Ah, we owe you a great deal: the tithe tax, +dropped by you into the ear of the Emperor Charles; the arrest of my +lords of Egmont and Hoorn, whereof the warrant was written in your own +fair hand, and of more than two thousand persons who perished at your +command by fire, steel, and rope!” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb132" href="#pb132" name="pb132">132</a>]</span></p> +<p>“I do not know the number,” said the devil, “but +it is large. Give me, Smetse, some more of this sausage, which is +excellent.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the smith, “’tis not good enough +for your lordship. But you are drinking nothing. Empty this tankard, +’tis double <i>bruinbier</i>.”</p> +<p>“Smith,” said the devil, “it is good also, but I +tasted better at Pierkyn’s tavern one day when five girls of the +Reformed Faith were burnt together in the market-place. That frothed +better. While we were drinking we heard these five maids singing psalms +in the fire. Ah, we drank well that day! But think, Smetse, of the +great perversity of those maids, all young and strong, and so fast set +in their crimes that they sang their psalms without complaint, smiling +at the fire and invoking God in a heretical fashion. Give me more to +drink, Smetse.”</p> +<p>“But,” said Smetse, “King Philip asked for your +canonization at Rome, for having served Spain and the Pope so well; why +then are you not in paradise, my lord?”</p> +<p>“Alas,” wept the devil, “I had no recognition of +my former services. Those traitors of Reformers are with God, while I +burn in the bottom of the pit. And there, without rest or respite, I +have to sing heretical psalms; cruel punishment, unspeakable torment! +These chants stick in my throat, scrape up and down in my breast, +tearing my inner flesh like a bristling porcupine with iron spines. At +every note a new wound, a bleeding sore: and always, always I have to +keep singing, and so it will go on through all the length of +eternity.”</p> +<p>At these words Smetse was very much frightened, thinking how heavily +God had punished Jacob Hessels.</p> +<p>“Drink, my lord,” he said to him; “this +<i>bruinbier</i> is balm to sore throttles.”</p> +<p>Suddenly the clock struck.</p> +<p>“Come, Smetse,” said the devil, “’tis the +hour.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb133" href="#pb133" name= +"pb133">133</a>]</span></p> +<p>But the good smith, without answering, heaved a great sigh.</p> +<p>“What ails thee?” said the devil.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Smetse, “I am grieved at your +incontinence. Have I welcomed you so ill that you will not let me go, +before I leave here, to embrace my wife a last time and bid farewell to +my good workmen, and to take one more look at my good plum-tree whose +fruits are so rich and juicy? Ah, I would gladly refresh myself with +one or two before I go off to that land where there is always +thirst.”</p> +<p>“Do not think to escape me,” said the devil.</p> +<p>“That I would not, my lord,” said Smetse. “Come +with me, I pray you most humbly.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” said the devil, “but not for +long.”</p> +<p>In the garden Smetse began to sigh afresh.</p> +<p>“Ah,” he said, “look at my plums, my lord; will +you be pleased to let me go up and eat my fill?”</p> +<p>“Go up then,” said the devil.</p> +<p>Up in the tree Smetse began to eat in a most greedy manner, and suck +in the juice of the plums with a great noise. “Ah,” cried +he, “plums of paradise, Christian plums, how fat you are! +Princely plums, you would solace a hundred devils burning in the lowest +parts of hell. By you, sweet plums, blessed plums, is thirst driven out +of my throat; by you, adorable plums, gentle plums, is purged from my +stomach all evil melancholy; by you, fresh plums, sugary plums, is +diffused in my blood an infinite sweetness. Ah, juicy plums, joyous +plums, faery plums, would that I could go on sucking you for +ever!”</p> +<p>And while he was saying all this, Smetse went on picking them, +eating them and sipping the juice, without ever stopping.</p> +<p>“Pox!” said the devil, “it makes my mouth water; +why dost not throw me down some of these marvellous plums?”</p> +<p>“Alas, my lord,” said Smetse, “that I cannot do; +they <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb134" href="#pb134" name= +"pb134">134</a>]</span>would melt into water on their fall, so delicate +are they. But if you will be pleased to climb up into the tree you will +find much pleasure in store for you.”</p> +<p>“Then I will,” said the devil.</p> +<p>When he was well settled on a stout branch and there regaling +himself with plums, Smetse slipped down, picked up a stick lying on the +grass and fell to belabouring him with great vigour.</p> +<p>Feeling the stick on his back the devil would have leapt down on the +smith, but could not move, for the skin of his seat held fast to the +branch. And he snorted, ground his teeth, and foamed at the mouth with +great rage, and also by reason of the pain which his tender skin caused +him.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Smetse gave him a good drubbing, caressed with his stick +every quarter of his body in turn, bruised him to the bone, tore his +habit, and gave him as strong and straight a beating as was ever given +in the land of Flanders. And he kept saying: “You say not a word +about my plums, my lord; they are good, none the less.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” cried Hessels, “why am I not +free!”</p> +<p>“Alas, yes! why are you not free!” answered Smetse, +“you would give me to some little butcher among your friends who +would cut me up freely into slices like a ham, under your learned +instruction, for you are, as I know well, a doctor of torment. But are +you not being well tormented in turn by my stick? Alas, yes! why are +you not free! You would hoist me up on some blessed gallows, and every +one would see me hanging in the air, and freely would Master Hessels +laugh. And so he would have his revenge on me for this excellent +drubbing which I am giving him with such freedom. For nothing in this +world is so free as a free stick falling freely on an unfree +councillor. Alas, yes! why are you not free! You would free my head +from my body, as you did with such satisfaction to my masters of Egmont +and Hoorn. Alas, yes! why are you not free! then we should see Smetse +in some good little fire, which would roast him <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb135" href="#pb135" name= +"pb135">135</a>]</span>freely, as was done to the poor maids of the +reformed faith; and Smetse, like them, would be heard singing with a +free soul to the God of free believers, and with a free conscience +stronger than the flame, while Master Hessels drank <i>bruinbier</i> +and said that it frothed nicely.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said the devil, “why beat me so cruelly, +without pity for my white hairs?”</p> +<p>“As for thy white hair,” said Smetse, “’tis +the hair of an old tiger who ate up our country. For this reason it +gives me sweet pleasure to beat thee with this oaken stick; and also in +order that thou mayst give me permission to stay another seven years on +this earth, where I find myself so well content, if it so please +thee.”</p> +<p>“Seven years!” said the devil, “do not count on +that; I would rather bleed under thy stick.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Smetse, “I see that your skin is fond +of good blows. These are tasty ones, it is true. But the best of cheer +is unwholesome if taken in excess. So when you have had enough of them, +be so good as to tell me. I will put a stop to this feast, but for that +I must have the seven years.”</p> +<p>“Never,” said Hessels; and lifting his snout into the +air like a baying dog, he cried out: “Devils to the +rescue!” But this he did so loudly, and in such screeching wise, +that at the sound of his cracked voice blaring out like a trumpet, all +the workmen came to see what it was about.</p> +<p>“You do not shout loud enough,” said Smetse, “I +will help you.” And he beat him the harder, so that the devil +cried the louder.</p> +<p>“See,” said Smetse, “how well this stick makes the +little nightingale sing in my plum-tree. He is saying over his +<i>lied</i> of love to call hither his fair mate. She will come by and +by, my lord; but come down, I pray you, and await her below, for they +say that the night dew is deadly at a height from the +ground.”</p> +<p>“<i>Baes</i>,” said certain workmen, “is it not my +lord Jacob <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb136" href="#pb136" name= +"pb136">136</a>]</span>Hessels, the Bloody Councillor, who is perched +up there in thy plum-tree?”</p> +<p>“Yes, lads,” answered Smetse, “’tis indeed +that worthy man. He seeks high places now as he did all his life, and +so also at the end of it, when he swung in the air, putting out his +tongue at the passers-by. For that which is of the gallows returns to +the gallows, and the rope will take back its own. ’Tis +written.”</p> +<p>“<i>Baes</i>,” said they, “can we not help to +bring him down?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he. And the workmen went off to the +smithy.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the devil said nothing, trying all the time to get his +seat away from the branch. And he struggled, wriggled about, twisted +himself a hundred different ways, and used as levers, to lift himself +up, feet, hands, and head, but all in vain.</p> +<p>And Smetse, belabouring him well, said to him: “My lord +Councillor, you are fast stuck, it seems, to the saddle; but I will +have you out of it, have you out as fast as I can, for if I do not so, +beating you with all my strength, you will tear up out of the ground +the tree and its roots, and the good folk will see you walking along, +dragging a plum-tree from your seat like a tail, which would be a +piteous and laughable spectacle for such a noble devil as yourself to +make. Give me rather the seven years.”</p> +<p>“<i>Baes</i>,” said the workmen, who had returned from +the smithy with hammers and iron bars, “here we are at your +orders; what shall we do?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Smetse, “since I have combed him down +with oaken staves we will now louse him with hammers and +bars.”</p> +<p>“Mercy, Smetse, mercy!” cried the devil; hammers and +bars, this is too much; thou hast the seven years, smith.”</p> +<p>“Make haste,” said Smetse, “and write me the +quittance.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb137" href="#pb137" +name="pb137">137</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Here it is,” said he.</p> +<p>The smith took it, saw that it was in good order, and said: “I +desire that thou come down.”</p> +<p>But the devil was so weak and enfeebled by the blows he had had that +when he tried to leap he fell on his back. And he went off limping, +shaking his fist at Smetse, and saying: “I await thee, in seven +years, in hell, smith.”</p> +<p>“So you may,” said Smetse.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XI.</span> Wherein the +workmen hold fair speech with Smetse.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">While the devil was making off, Smetse, watching his +workmen, saw that they were looking at one another strangely, spoke +together in low voices, and seemed awkward in their manner, like people +who would speak out, but dare not.</p> +<p>And he said to himself: “Are they going to denounce me to the +priests?”</p> +<p>Suddenly Flipke the Bear came up to him. “<i>Baes</i>,” +said he, “we know well enough that this ghost of Hessels was sent +to thee by him who is lord below; thou hast made a pact with the devil +and art rich only by his money. We have guessed as much for some time. +But so that thou should not be vexed, none of us have spoken of it in +the town, and none will so speak. We would tell thee this to put thy +mind at rest. And so now, <i>baes</i>, good night and quiet sleep to +thee.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, lads,” said Smetse, greatly softened.</p> +<p>And they went their several ways.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XII.</span> How that Smetse +would not give his secret into his wife’s tongue’s +keeping.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">In the kitchen Smetse found his wife on her knees +beating her breast, weeping, sighing, sobbing, and saying: “Jesus +Lord God, he has made a pact with the devil; but ’tis not with my +consent, I swear. And you also, Madam the Virgin, you know it, and you +also, all my masters the saints. Ah, I am indeed wretched, not on my +own account, but for <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb138" href="#pb138" +name="pb138">138</a>]</span>my poor man, who for the sake of some +miserable gold sold his soul to the devil! Alas, yes, sell it he did! +Ah, my saintly masters, who are yourselves so happy and in such glory, +pray the very good God for him, and deign to consider that if, as I +dare hope, I die a Christian death and go to paradise, I shall be all +alone there, eating my rice pudding with silver spoons, while my poor +man is burning in hell, crying out in thirst and hunger, and I not able +to give him either meat or drink.... Alas, that will make me so +unhappy! Ah, my good masters the saints, Madam the Virgin, My Lord +Jesus, he sinned but this once, and was all the rest of his life a good +man, a good Christian, kind to the poor and soft of heart. Save him +from the fires which burn for ever, and do not separate above those who +were so long united below. Pray for him, pray for me, alas!”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said Smetse, “thou art very wretched, it +seems.”</p> +<p>“Ah, wicked man,” said she, “now I know all. +’Twas hell fire which came bursting into the house and lit up the +forge; those master-bakers, brewers, and vintners were devils, all of +them, and devil also that ugly man who showed thee the treasure and +gave me so grievous a buffet. Who will dare to live peaceably in this +house from now on? Alas, our food is the devil’s, our drink also; +devil’s meat, loaves, and cheeses, devil’s money, house, +and all. Whoever should dig under this dwelling would see the fires of +hell gush out incontinent. There are all the devils, I see them above, +below, on the right hand, on the left, awaiting their prey with dropped +jaws, like tigers. Ah, what a fine sight ’twill be to see my poor +man torn into a hundred pieces by all these devils, and that in seven +years, for he said, as I heard well enough, that he would come back in +seven years.”</p> +<p>“Weep not, wife,” said Smetse, “in seven years I +may again be master as I was to-day.”</p> +<p>“But,” said she, “if he had not gone up into the +plum-tree, what wouldst thou have done, poor beggar-man? And +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb139" href="#pb139" name= +"pb139">139</a>]</span>what if he will not let himself fall a second +time into thy snare as he did to-day?”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said Smetse, “he will so fall, for my +snares are from heaven, and the things which are from God can always +get the better of devils.”</p> +<p>“Art not lying again?” she said. “And wilt tell me +what they are?”</p> +<p>“That I cannot,” said he, “for devils have sharp +ears and would hear me telling thee, no matter how low I spoke; and +then I should be taken off to hell without mercy.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said she, “then I will not ask, though +’tis not pleasant for me to live here in ignorance of everything, +like a stranger. Nevertheless I would rather have thee silent and saved +than talking and damned.”</p> +<p>“Wife,” he said, “thou art wise when thou speakest +so.”</p> +<p>“I will pray,” she said, “every day for thy +deliverance, and have a good mass said for thee at St. +Bavon.”</p> +<p>“But,” said he, “is it with devil’s money +thou wilt pay for this mass?”</p> +<p>“Have no care for that,” said she, “when this +money enters the church coffers ’twill become suddenly +holy.”</p> +<p>“Do as thou wilt, wife,” said Smetse.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said she, “My Lord Jesus shall have a stout +candle each day, and Madam the Virgin likewise.”</p> +<p>“Do not forget my master St. Joseph,” said Smetse, +“for we owe him much.”</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XIII.</span> Of the Bloody +Duke.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">The end of the seventh year came again in its turn, +and on the last evening there crossed the threshold of Smetse +Smee’s dwelling a man with a sharp and haughty Spanish face, a +nose like a hawk’s beak, hard and staring eyes, and a white +beard, long and pointed. For the rest he was dressed in armour finely +worked and most richly gilt; decorated with the illustrious order of +the Fleece; wore a fine red sash; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb140" +href="#pb140" name="pb140">140</a>]</span>rested his left hand on the +hilt of his sword, and held in his right the seven years’ pact +and a marshal’s wand.</p> +<p>Coming into the forge he walked straight towards Smetse, holding his +head loftily and without deigning to notice any of the workmen.</p> +<p>The smith was standing in a corner, wondering how he could make the +devil who was sent for him sit down in the arm-chair, when Flipke ran +quickly up to him and said in his ear: “<i>Baes</i>, the Bloody +Duke is coming, take care!”</p> +<p>“Woe!” said Smetse, speaking to himself, +“’tis all up with me, if d’Alva has come to fetch +me.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile the devil approached the smith, showed him the pact, and +took him by the arm without a word to lead him off.</p> +<p>“My Lord,” said Smetse in a most sorrowful manner, +“whither would you take me? To hell. I follow you. ’Tis too +great honour for one so mean as I to be ordered by so noble a devil as +yourself. But is it yet the appointed time? I think it is not, and your +highness has too upright a soul to take me off before the time written +in the deed. In the meantime I beg your highness to be seated: Flipke, +a chair for My Lord; the best in my poor dwelling, the large, +well-padded arm-chair which stands in my kitchen, beside the press, +near the chimney, beneath the picture of my master St. Joseph. Wipe it +well, lad, so that no dust may be left on it; and quick, for the noble +duke is standing.”</p> +<p>Flipke ran into the kitchen and came back, saying: +“<i>Baes</i>, I cannot lift that arm-chair alone, ’tis so +heavy.”</p> +<p>Then Smetse feigned great anger and said to his workmen: “Do +ye not hear? He cannot lift it alone. Go and help him, and if it takes +ten of you let ten go. And quick now. Fie! the blockheads, can ye +’not see that the noble duke is standing?”</p> +<p>Nine workmen ran to obey him and brought the chair into the forge, +though not without difficulty. Smetse said: “Put it there, behind +My Lord. Is there any dust on it? <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb141" +href="#pb141" name="pb141">141</a>]</span>By Artevelde! they have not +touched this corner. I will do it myself. Now ’tis as clean as +new-washed glass. Will your highness deign to be seated?”</p> +<p>This the devil did, and then looked round him with great haughtiness +and disdain. But of a sudden the smith fell at his feet, and said with +mocking laughter: “Sir duke, you see before you the most humble +of your servants, a poor man living like a Christian, serving God, +honouring princes, and anxious, if such is your lordly pleasure, to +continue in this way of life seven years more.”</p> +<p>“Thou shalt not have one minute,” said the devil, +“come, Fleming, come with me.”</p> +<p>And he tried to rise from the chair, but could not. And while he was +struggling with might and main, making a thousand vain efforts, the +good smith cried joyously: “Would your highness get up? Ah, +’tis too soon! Let your highness wait, he is not yet rested after +his long journey; long, I make bold to say, for it must be a good +hundred leagues from hell to my smithy, and that is a long way for such +noble feet, by dusty roads. Ah, My Lord, let yourself rest a little in +this good chair. Nevertheless, if you are in great haste to be off, +grant me the seven years and I will give you in return your noble leave +and a full flask of Spanish wine.”</p> +<p>“I care nothing for thy wine,” answered the devil.</p> +<p>“<i>Baes</i>,” said Flipke, “offer him blood, he +will drink then.”</p> +<p>“My lad,” said Smetse, “thou knowest well enough +we have no such thing as blood in our cellars hereabouts, for that is +no Flemish drink, but one that we leave to Spain. Therefore his +highness must be so good as to excuse me. Nevertheless, I think he is +thirsty, not for blood, but for blows, and of those I will give him his +illustrious fill, since he will not grant me the seven +years.”</p> +<p>“Smith,” said the devil, looking at Smetse with great +contempt, “thou wouldst not dare beat me, I think?”</p> +<p>“Yes, My Lord,” said the good man. “You would have +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb142" href="#pb142" name= +"pb142">142</a>]</span>me dead. For my part I hold to my skin, and this +not without good reason, for it has always been faithful to me and well +fastened. Would it not be a criminal act to break off in this sudden +fashion so close a partnership? And besides, you would take me off with +you to hell, where the air is filled with the stench of the divers +cookeries for damned souls which are set up there. Ah, rather than go +thither I would beat your highness for seven years.”</p> +<p>“Fleming,” said the devil, “thou speakest without +respect.”</p> +<p>“Yes, My Lord,” said Smetse, “but I will hit you +with veneration.”</p> +<p>And so saying he gave him with his clenched fist a terrible great +blow on the nose, whereat the devil seemed astonished, dazed, and +angry, like a powerful king struck by a low-born servant. And he tried +to leap upon the smith, clenched his fists, ground his teeth, and shot +out blood from his nose, his mouth, his eyes, and his ears, so angry +was he.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said Smetse, “you seem angry, My Lord. But +deign to consider that since you will not listen to my words, I must +speak to you by blows. By this argument am I not doing my best to +soften your heart to my piteous case? Alas, deign to consider that my +humble fist is making its supplication as best it can to your +illustrious eyes, begs seven years from your noble nose, implores them +from your ducal jaw. Do not these respectful taps tell your lordly +cheeks how happy, joyous, and well-liking I should be during those +seven years? Ah, let yourself be convinced. But, I see, I must speak to +you in another fashion, with the words of iron bars, the prayers of +tongs, and the supplications of sledge-hammers. Lads,” said the +smith to his workmen, “will you be pleased to hold converse with +My Lord?”</p> +<p>“Yes, <i>baes</i>,” said they.</p> +<p>And together with Smetse they chose their tools. But it was the +oldest who picked the heaviest ones, and were the hottest with rage, +because it was they who in former days <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb143" href="#pb143" name="pb143">143</a>]</span>had lost, through the +duke’s doing, many friends and relatives by steel, by stake, and +by live burial, and they cried: “God is on our side, he has +delivered the enemy into our hands. Out upon the Bloody Duke, the +master-butcher, the lord of the axe!”</p> +<p>And all of them, young and old, cursed the devil with a thunder of +cries; and they came up to him menacingly, surrounding the chair and +raising their tools to strike.</p> +<p>But Smetse stopped them and spoke again to the devil. “If your +highness,” he said, “is minded to hold to his noble bones, +let him deign to grant me the seven years, for the time for laughter is +past, let me tell you.”</p> +<p>“<i>Baes</i>,” said the workmen, “whence comes to +thee this kindness beyond measure? Why hold so long and fair parley +with this fellow? Let us first break him up, and then he will offer +thee the seven years of his own accord.”</p> +<p>“Seven years!” said the devil, “seven years! he +shall not have so much as the shadow of a minute. Strike, men of Ghent, +the lion is in the net; ye who could not find a hole deep enough to +hide yourselves in when he was free and showed his fangs. Flemish +cowards, see what I think of you and your threats.” And he spat +on them.</p> +<p>At this spittle the bars, hammers, and other tools fell on him thick +as hail, breaking his bones and the plates of his armour, and Smetse +and his workmen said as they beat to their hearts’ content:</p> +<p>“Cowards were we, who wished to worship God in the sincerity +of our hearts; valiant was he who prevented us with steel, stake, and +live burial.</p> +<p>“Cowards were we for having always laughed readily and drunk +joyously, like men who, having done what they had to do, make light of +the rest: valiant was this dark personage when he had poor men of the +people arrested in the midst of their merrymaking at <i>Kermis</i>-time +and put death where had been laughter.</p> +<p>“Cowards were the eighteen thousand eight hundred <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb144" href="#pb144" name= +"pb144">144</a>]</span>persons who died for the glory of God; cowards +those numberless others who by the rapine, brutality and insolence of +the fighting men, lost their lives in these lands and others. Valiant +was he who ordained their sufferings, and more valiant still when he +celebrated his own evil deeds by a banquet.</p> +<p>“Cowards were we always, we who, after a battle, treated our +prisoners like brothers; valiant was he who, after the defeat in +Friesland, had his own men slaughtered.</p> +<p>“Cowards were we, who laboured without ceasing, spreading +abroad over the whole world the work of our hands; valiant was he when, +under the cloak of religion, he slew the richer among us without +distinction between Romans and Reformers, and robbed us by pillage and +extortion of thirty-six million florins. For the world is turned upside +down; cowardly is the busy bee who makes the honey, and valiant the +idle drone who steals it away. Spit, noble duke, on these Flemish +cowards.”</p> +<p>But the duke could neither spit nor cough, for from the roughness of +the blows they had given him he had altogether lost the shape of a man, +so mingled and beaten together were bones, flesh, and steel. But there +was no blood to be seen, which was a marvellous thing. Suddenly, while +the workmen, wearied with beating, were taking breath, a weak voice +came out from this hotch-potch of bones, flesh, and steel, saying:</p> +<p>“Thou hast the seven years, Smetse.”</p> +<p>“Very well then, My Lord,” said he, “sign the +quittance.”</p> +<p>This the devil did.</p> +<p>“And now,” said Smetse, “will your highness please +to get up.”</p> +<p>At these words, by great marvel, the devil regained his shape. But +while he was walking away, holding up his head with great haughtiness +and not deigning to look at his feet, he tripped over a sledge lying on +the ground, and fell on his <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb145" href= +"#pb145" name="pb145">145</a>]</span>nose with great indignity, thereby +giving much occasion for laughter to the workmen, who did not fail to +make use of it. Picking himself up he threatened them with his fist, +but they burst out laughing more loudly than ever. He came at them, +grinding his teeth; they hooted him. He tried to strike with his sword +a short and sturdy little workman; but the man seized the sword from +his hands and broke it in three pieces. He struck another in the face +with his fist, but the man gave him so good and valiant a kick as to +send him sprawling on the quay with his legs in the air. There, +flushing with shame, he melted into red smoke, like a vapour of blood, +and the workmen heard a thousand joyous and merry voices, saying: +“Beaten is the Bloody Duke, shamed is the lord of the axe, +inglorious the prince of butchers! <i lang="nl">Vlaenderland tot +eeuwigheid!</i> Flanders for ever!” And a thousand pairs of hands +beat applause all together. And the dawn broke.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XIV.</span> Of the great +fears and pains of Smetse’s wife.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Smetse, going to look for his wife, found her in the +kitchen on her knees before the picture of St. Joseph. “Well, +mother,” said he, “what didst think of our dance? Was it +not a merry one? Ah, henceforth they will call our house the House of +Beaten Devils.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said his wife, wagging her head, “yes, and +also the house of Smetse who was carried away to hell. For that is +where thou wilt go; I know it, I feel it, I foretell it. This +devil’s coming all accoutred for war presages evil. He will come +back, no longer alone, but with a hundred thousand devils armed like +himself. Ah, my poor man! They will carry lances, swords, pikes, hooked +axes, and arquebuses. They will drag behind them canon which they will +fire at us; and everything will be ground to pieces, thou, I, the +smithy, and the workmen. Alas, everything will be levelled to the +ground! And where our smithy now stands will be nothing but a sorry +heap of dust. And the folk walking <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb146" +href="#pb146" name="pb146">146</a>]</span>past along the quay will say +when they see this dust: ‘There lies the house of Smetse, the +fool who sold his soul to the devil.’ And I, after dying in this +fashion, shall go to Paradise, as I dare to hope. But thee, my man, oh, +woe unspeakable! they will take away with them and drag through fire, +smoke, brimstone, pitch, boiling oil, to that terrible place where +those are punished who, wishing to break a pact made with the devil, +have no special help from God or his holy saints. Poor little man, my +good comrade, dost know what there is in store for thee? Ho, a gulf as +deep as the heavens are high, and studded all down its terrible sides +with jutting points of rock, iron spikes, horrid spears, and a thousand +dreadful pikes. And dost know what manner of gulf this is, my man? +’Tis a gulf wherein a man may keep falling always—dost +understand me, always, always—gashed by the rocks, cut about by +the spears, torn open by the pikes, always, always, down all the long +length of eternity.”</p> +<p>“But, wife,” said Smetse, “hast ever seen this +gulf whereof thou speakest?”</p> +<p>“Nay,” said she, “but I know what manner of place +it is, for I have often heard tell of it in the church of St. Bavon. +And the good canon predicant would not lie.”</p> +<p>“Ah, no,” said Smetse.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XV.</span> Of the Bloody +King.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">When the last night of the seventh year was come +Smetse was in his smithy, looking at the enchanted sack, and asking +himself with much anxiety how he could make the devil get into it.</p> +<p>While he was wondering, the smithy suddenly became filled with an +evil stench of the most putrid, offensive and filthy kind. Innumerable +lice swarmed over the threshold, ceiling, anvils, sledges, bars and +bellows, Smetse and his men, who were all as if blinded, for these lice +were as thick in the smithy as smoke, cloud, or fog. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb147" href="#pb147" name="pb147">147</a>]</span></p> +<p>And a melancholy but imperative voice spoke, saying: “Smetse, +come with me; the seven years have struck.”</p> +<p>And Smetse and his workmen, looking as well as they could in the +direction whence the voice came, saw a man coming towards them with a +royal crown on his head, and on his back a cloak of cloth-of-gold. But +beneath the cloak the man was naked, and on his breast were four great +abscesses, which formed together a single wide sore, and from this came +the stench which filled the smithy, and the clouds of lice which +swarmed round about. And he had on his right leg another abscess, more +filthy, rank, and offensive than the rest. The man himself was +white-faced, auburn-haired, red-bearded, with lips a little drawn, and +mouth open somewhat. In his grey eyes were melancholy, envy, +dissimulation, hypocrisy, harshness, and evil rancour.</p> +<p>When the older workmen saw him they cried out in a voice like +thunder: “Smetse, the Bloody King is here, take care!”</p> +<p>“Silence,” cried the smith, “peace there, silence +and veneration! Let every man doff his bonnet to the greatest king that +ever lived, Philip II by name, King of Castile, Leon, and Aragon, Count +of Flanders, Duke of Burgundy and Brabant, Palatine of Holland and +Zeeland, most illustrious of all illustrious princes, great among the +great, victorious among victors. Sire,” said he to the devil, +“you do me unparalleled honour to come hither in person to lead +me to hell, but my humble Ghentish lowness makes bold to suggest to +your Royal and Palatine Highness that the appointed hour has not yet +struck. Therefore if it pleases your Majesty I will pass on earth the +brief time which is still left to me to live.”</p> +<p>“I allow it,” said the devil.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Smetse seemed unable to take his eyes off the devil, and +showed himself very sorrowful and heavy, nodding his head, and saying +several times:</p> +<p>“Alas, alas! cruel torment! evil hour!” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb148" href="#pb148" name="pb148">148</a>]</span></p> +<p>“What ails thee?” said the devil.</p> +<p>“Sire,” said Smetse, “nothing ails me but the +great sorrow which I have at seeing how harsh God has been towards you, +leaving you to bear in hell the malady whereof you died. Ah, ’tis +a most pitiful sight to see so great a king as you consumed by these +lice and eaten up with these abscesses.”</p> +<p>“I care nothing for thy pity,” answered the king.</p> +<p>“Sire,” said Smetse further, “deign to think no +evil of my words. I have never been taught fine ways of speech; but +notwithstanding this I make bold to sympathize with your illustrious +sufferings, and this the more in that I myself have known and suffered +your ill, and you can still see, Sire, the terrible marks on my +skin.” And Smetse, uncovering his breast, showed the marks of the +wounds which he had received from the traitor Spanish when he sailed +the seas with the men of Zeeland.</p> +<p>“But,” said the devil-king, “thou seemest well +enough cured, smith! Wast thou verily as sick as I?”</p> +<p>“Like you, Sire,” said Smetse, “I was nothing but +a heap of living filth; like you I was fetid, rank, and offensive, and +every one fled from me as they fled from you; like you I was eaten up +with lice; but what could not be done for you by the most illustrious +doctor Olias of Madrid, a humble carpenter did for me.”</p> +<p>At these words the devil-king cocked his ear. “In what +place,” said he, “does this carpenter dwell, and what is +his name?”</p> +<p>“He dwells,” said Smetse, “in the heavens, and his +name is Master St. Joseph.”</p> +<p>“And did this great saint appear to thee by especial +miracle?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Sire.”</p> +<p>“And by virtue of what didst thou merit this rare and blessed +favour?”</p> +<p>“Sire,” answered Smetse, “I have never by my own +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb149" href="#pb149" name= +"pb149">149</a>]</span>virtue merited so much as the shadow of a single +grain of particular grace, but in my sufferings I prayed humbly and +with faith to my blessed patron, Master St. Joseph, and he deigned to +come to my succour.”</p> +<p>“Tell me of this happening, smith.”</p> +<p>“Sire,” said Smetse, holding up the sack, “this +was my remedy.”</p> +<p>“This sack?” asked the devil.</p> +<p>“Yes, Sire; but will your Majesty deign to look closely at the +hemp whereof it is woven. Do you not think its quality altogether +strange! Alas,” said Smetse, running on with his talk, and +appearing to go into an ecstasy, “’tis not given to us poor +men to see every day such hemp as this. For this is not earthly hemp, +but hemp of heaven, hemp from the good Paradise, sown by my master St. +Joseph round about the tree of life, harvested and woven under his +especial orders to make sacks wherein the beans are stored which my +masters the angels eat on fast-days.”</p> +<p>“But,” asked the devil, “how did this sack come +into thy hands?”</p> +<p>“Ah, Sire, by great marvel. One night I was in my bed, +suffering twenty deaths from my ulcers, and almost at the point of +giving up my soul. I saw my good wife weeping; I heard my neighbours +and workmen, of whom there were many, saying round about my bed the +prayers for the dying; my body was overcome with pain and my soul with +despair. Nevertheless I kept praying to my blessed patron and swore +that if he brought me out of that pass, I would burn to his honour in +the church of St. Bavon such a candle as the fat of twenty sheep would +not suffice to make. And my prayers were not in vain, Sire, for +suddenly a hole opened in the ceiling above my head, a living flame and +a celestial perfume filled the room, a sack came down through the hole, +a man clothed in white followed the sack, walked in the air to my bed, +pulled down the sheets which covered me, and in the twinkling of an eye +put me in the sack and drew the strings <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb150" href="#pb150" name="pb150">150</a>]</span>tight round my neck. +And then, behold the miracle! No sooner was I wrapped about with this +good hemp than a genial warmth passed through me, my ulcers dried up, +and the lice all perished suddenly with a terrible noise. After that +the man told me with a smile about the hemp of heaven and the angelic +beans, and finished his discourse by saying: ’Keep safe this +remedy, ’tis sent thee by my master St. Joseph. Whosoever shall +use it shall be cured of all ills and saved for all eternity, if in the +meantime he do not sell his soul to the devil!’ Then the man went +away. And what the good messenger told me was true, for by means of +this sack from heaven, I cured Toon, my workman, of the king’s +evil; Pier of fever, Dolf of scurvy, Hendrik of the phlegm, and a score +of others who owe it to me that they are still alive.”</p> +<div class="figure xd20e4221width" id="p150"><img src="images/p150.jpg" +alt="The Devil-King and the Sack" width="549" height="720"> +<p class="figureHead">The Devil-King and the Sack</p> +</div> +<p>When Smetse had finished his speech the devil-king seemed lost in +deep reflection, then suddenly lifted his eyes to heaven, joined his +hands, crossed himself again and again, and, falling to his knees, beat +upon his breast, and with most lamentable cries prayed as here follows: +“Ah, my Master St. Joseph, sweet Lord, blessed saint, immaculate +husband of the Virgin without stain, you have deigned to make whole +this smith, and he would have been saved by you for all eternity had he +not sold his soul to the devil. But I, Master, I, a poor king, who pray +to you, do you disdain to make me whole also, and to save me as you +would have saved him? You know well, sweet Lord, how I devoted my life, +my person, my goods and those of my subjects to the defence of our +blessed religion; how I hated, as is right, the freedom to believe +other things than those which are ordained for us; how I combated it by +steel, stake, and live burial; how I saved in this wise from the venom +of reform Brabant, Flanders, Artois, Hainault, Valenciennes, Lille, +Douai, Orchies, Namur, Tournai, Tournaisie, Malines, and my other +lands. Nevertheless I have been thrown into the fires of hell, and +there suffer without respite the unutterable torment <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb151" href="#pb151" name="pb151">151</a>]</span>of +my consuming ulcers and my devouring vermin. Ah, will you not make me +whole, will you not save me? You are able, my Master. Yes, you will +perform again for the sorrowing king the miracle which saved the smith. +Then shall I be able to pass into paradise, blessing and glorifying +your name through centuries and centuries. Save me, Master St. Joseph, +save me. Amen.”</p> +<p>And the devil-king, crossing himself, beating his breast, and +babbling paternosters turn by turn, rose to his feet and said to +Smetse: “Put me in the sack, smith.”</p> +<p>This Smetse did gladly, rolled him into the sack, leaving only his +head thrust out, drew tight round his neck the stout cords, and placed +the devil on an anvil.<a id="xd20e4233" name="xd20e4233"></a></p> +<p>At this spectacle the workmen burst out laughing, clapping their +hands together, and saying a hundred merry things to one another.</p> +<p>“Smith,” asked the devil, “are these Flemings +laughing at me?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Sire.”</p> +<p>“What are they saying, smith?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Sire, they are saying that horses are caught by means of +corn; dogs by liver; asses by thistles; hogs by swill; trout by curdled +blood; carp by cheese; pike by gudgeon; and a humbug of your kidney by +tales of false miracles.”</p> +<p>“Ho, the traitor smith,” howled the devil, grinding his +teeth, “he has taken in vain the name of my Master St. Joseph, he +has lied without shame.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Sire.”</p> +<p>“And thou wilt dare to beat me as thou didst Jacob Hessels and +my faithful duke?”</p> +<p>“Even more heartily, Sire. Nevertheless ’tis only if you +so wish it. You shall be set free if you please. Free if you give me +back the deed; beaten if you are fixed in your idea of carrying me off +to hell.”</p> +<p>“Give thee back the deed! “roared the devil, “I +would rather suffer a thousand deaths in a single moment.” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb152" href="#pb152" name= +"pb152">152</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Sire King,” said Smetse, “I pray you to think of +your bones, which seem to me none too sound as it is. Consider also +that the opportunity is a good one for us to avenge on your person our +poor Flanders, so drenched in blood at your hands. But it displeases me +to pass a second time where has passed already the wrath of the very +just God. So give me back the deed; grace, Sire King, or ’twill +begin raining presently.”</p> +<p>“Grace!” said the devil, “grace to a Fleming! +perish Flanders rather! Ah, why have I not again, one single day, as +much power, armies, and riches as I will; Flanders would give up her +soul quickly. Then famine should reign in the land, parching the soil, +drying up the water-springs and the life of plants; the last ghostly +inhabitants of the empty towns would wander like phantoms in the +streets, killing one another in heaps to find a little rotten food; +bands of famished dogs would snatch newborn children from their +mothers’ withered breasts and devour them; famine should lie +where had been plenty, dust where had been towns, crows where had been +men; and on this earth stripped naked, stony, and desolate, on this +burial-ground, I would set up a black cross with this inscription: Here +lies Flanders the heretic, Philip of Spain passed over her +breast!”</p> +<p>So saying the devil foamed at the mouth with wrath, but scarce were +his last words cold from his lips when all the hammers and bars in the +smithy fell on him at once. And Smetse and his workmen, striking in +turn, said: “This is for our broken charters and our privileges +violated despite thine oath, for thou wast perjurer.</p> +<p>“This is for that when we called thee thou didst not dare come +into our land, where thy presence would have cooled the hottest heads, +for thou wast coward.</p> +<p>“This is for the innocent Marquess of Berg-op-Zoom, whom thou +poisoned in prison, so that his inheritance might be thine; and for the +Prince of Ascoly, whom thou madest to marry Dona Eufrasia, in child by +thy seed, so that his <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb153" href= +"#pb153" name="pb153">153</a>]</span>wealth might enrich the bastard +that was coming. The Prince died also, like so many others, for thou +wert poisoner of bodies.</p> +<p>“This is for the false witnesses paid by thee, and thy promise +to ennoble whomever would kill Prince William for money, for thou wast +poisoner of souls.”</p> +<p>And the blows fell heavy, and the king’s crown was knocked +off, and his body, like the duke’s, was no more than a +hotch-potch of bones and flesh, without any blood. But the workmen went +on with their hammering, saying:</p> +<p>“This is for thine invention of the <i>Tourniquet</i>, +wherewith thou didst strangle Montigny, friend of thy son, for thou +wast seeker of new tortures.</p> +<p>“This is for the Duke of Alva, for the Counts of Egmont and +Hoorn, for all our poor dead, for our merchants who went off to enrich +England and Germany, for thou wast death and ruin to our land.</p> +<p>“This is for thy wife, who died by thy deed, for thou wast +husband without love.</p> +<p>“This is for thy poor son Charles, who died without any +sickness, for thou wast father without bowels.</p> +<p>“This is for the hatred, cruelty, and slaughter with which +thou didst make return for the gentleness, confidence, and goodwill of +our land, for thou wast king without justice.</p> +<p>“And this is for the Emperor, thy father, who, with his +execrable proclamations and edicts, first sounded for our land the +stroke of the evil hour. Give him a good drubbing on our account, and +tell us thou wilt give back the deed to the <i>baes</i>.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” wept a melancholy voice, coming from the heap of +bones and flesh, “thou hast everything, Smetse, thou art +free.”</p> +<p>“Give me back the parchment,” said Smetse.</p> +<p>“Open the sack,” answered the voice.</p> +<p>“Ho,” cried Smetse, “yes, yes, indeed, I will open +the sack wide, and Master Philip will leap out and take me off +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb154" href="#pb154" name= +"pb154">154</a>]</span>to hell with all speed. Oh, the good little +devil! But ’tis not now the time for such high pranks. Therefore +I make bold to beg your Majesty to give me first the parchment, which +he may without difficulty pass up through this gap which is between his +neck and the edge of the sacking.”</p> +<p>“I will not do it,” said the devil.</p> +<p>“That,” said Smetse, “is as it pleases your subtle +Majesty. In the sack he is, in the sack he may remain; I make no +objection. Every man his own humour. But mine will be to leave him in +his sack, and in this wise carry him off to Middelburg in Walcheren, +and there ask the prefect that leave be given me to build a good little +stone box in the market-place and therein to place your Majesty, +leaving outside his melancholy countenance. So placed he will be able +to see at a close view the happiness, joy, and prosperity of the men of +the reformed faith: that will be a fine treat for him, which might be +added to, on feast-days and market-days, by an unkind blow or two which +people would give him in the face, or some wicked strokes with a stick, +or some spittle dropped on him without respect. You will have besides, +Sire, the unutterable satisfaction of seeing many good pilgrims from +Flanders, Brabant, and your other blood-soaked countries come to +Middelburg to pay back with good coin of their staves their old debt to +your Most Merciful Majesty.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the devil, “I will not have this shame +put upon me. Take, smith, take the parchment.”</p> +<p>Smetse obeyed, and saw that it was indeed his own, then went and +dipped it in holy water, where it turned into dust.</p> +<p>At this he was filled with joy and opened the sack for the devil, +whose bones moved and became joined again to one another. And he took +on again his withered shape, his hungry vermin, and his devouring +sores.</p> +<p>Then, covering himself with his cloak of cloth-of-gold, he went out +of the smithy, while Smetse cried after him: “Good journey to +you, and a following wind, Master Philip!” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb155" href="#pb155" name="pb155">155</a>]</span></p> +<p>And on the quay the devil kicked against a stone, which opened of +itself and showed a great hole, wherein he was swallowed suddenly up +like an oyster.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XVI.</span> Wherein Smetse +beholds on the River Lys a most marvellous sight.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">When the devil had gone Smetse was almost off his head +with joy, and ran to his wife, who had come to the door of the kitchen, +and thumped her for joy, seized her, kissed her, hugged the good woman, +shook her, pressed her to him, ran back to his men, shook them all by +the hand, crying: “By Artevelde! I am quits, Smetse is +quits!” And he seemed to have a tongue for nothing else but that +he was quits! And he blew in his wife’s ear, into his +workmen’s faces, and under the nose of a bald and wheezing old +cat who sat up in one corner and got quit with him by a scratch in the +face.</p> +<p>“The rascal,” said Smetse, “does not seem glad +enough at my deliverance. Is he another devil, think you? They say they +disguise themselves in every kind of shape. Ho,” said he to the +cat, who was arching her back in annoyance, “hast heard, +listened, and understood, devil cat? I am quit and free, quit and +franked, quit and happy, quit and rich! And I have made fools of all +the devils. And from now on I will live gaily as becomes a quit smith. +Wife, I will send this very day a hundred <i>philipdalers</i> to +Slimbroek, so that that poor sinner may also rejoice at Smetse’s +quittance.”</p> +<p>But his wife said nothing, and when Smetse went to look for her he +found her on the stair with a great bowl of holy water in her hands, in +which she was dipping a fair sprig of palm branch.</p> +<p>Coming into the smithy she began to sprinkle with the palm her man +and the workmen, and also the hammers, anvils, bellows, and other +tools.</p> +<p>“Wife,” said Smetse, trying to escape the wetting, +“what art thou at?” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb156" +href="#pb156" name="pb156">156</a>]</span></p> +<p>“I am saving thee,” said she, “presumptuous smith. +Dost verily think that, being freed of devils, thou hast for thine own +the chattels that come from them? Dost think that though they have lost +the soul which was to be their payment they will leave thee thy riches. +Ho, the good fool! They will come back again, yes; and if I do not +sprinkle thee with this holy water, and myself likewise, and all these +good men, who knows with what evils they may not torment us, +alas!”</p> +<p>And the good wife was working away with her palm-branch when +suddenly a great thunder rumbled under the earth, shaking the quay, and +the stones cracked, the panes shivered in the windows, all the doors +and casements in the smithy opened of themselves, and a hot wind +blew.</p> +<p>“Ah,” said she, “they are coming; pray, my +man!”</p> +<p>And suddenly there appeared in the sky the figure of a man, naked +and of marvellous beauty. He was standing in a chariot of diamond, +drawn by four flaming horses. And he held in his right hand a banner, +whereon was written: “More beautiful than God.” And from +the body of this man, whereof the flesh shone brightly, came golden +rays which lit up the Lys, the quay and the trees like sunlight. And +the trees began to sway and swing their stems and branches, and all the +quay seemed to roll like a ship upon the sea, and thousands of voices +called out together: “Lord, we cry hunger and thirst; Lord, feed +us; Lord, give us to drink.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the good wife, “here is my Lord Lucifer +and all his devils!”</p> +<p>And when the voices had ceased the man made a sign with his hand, +and of a sudden the waters of the Lys rose as if God had lifted up the +river-bed. And the river became like a rough sea; but the waves did not +roll on the quay, but each lifted separately, bearing on its crest a +foam of fire. Then each of these flames rose into the air, drawing up +the water like a pillar, and there seemed to poor Smetse and his wife +and the men to be hundreds of thousands of these pillars of water, +swaying and foaming. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb157" href="#pb157" +name="pb157">157</a>]</span></p> +<p>Then each pillar took on the form of a fearful animal, and suddenly +there appeared, mingled together, striking and wounding one another, +all the devils whose work was to torment poor damned souls. There were +to be seen, crawling over crooked and shivering men’s legs, +monstrous crabs, devouring those who were servile in their lives. Near +these crabs were ostriches bigger than horses, who ran along flapping +their wings. Under their tails they had laurel-wreaths, sceptres, and +crowns, and behind their tails were made to run those men who in our +world spent all their time running after vain honours, without a care +for doing good. And the ostriches went quicker than the wind, while the +men ran without respite behind them in the effort to get the wreaths, +crowns, and sceptres; but they could never reach them. In this way they +were led to a treacherous pond full of loathsome mud, wherein they fell +shamefully and stayed stuck for all eternity, whilst the mocking +ostriches walked up and down on the bank dangling their bawbles.</p> +<p>Among the ostriches were squadrons of many-coloured apes, diapered +like butterflies, whose concern was with miserly Jewish and Lombard +usurers. These men, when they entered hell, looked round them +carefully, screwing up their eyes under their spectacles, collected +from the ground divers rusty nails, old breeches, filthy rags, buttons +showing the wood, and other old stuff, then dug a hole hastily, hid +their treasures in it and went off to sit down some way away. The apes, +seeing this, would leap on the hole, empty out its content, and throw +it into the fire. Then the misers would weep, make lamentations, and be +beaten by the apes, and at last go off to find some more secret place, +hide there once again their new depredations, and see once again the +hole emptied and the apes coming once again to beat them, and so on for +all eternity.</p> +<p>In the air, above the apes, soared eagles, who had, instead of a +beak, four-and-twenty matchlock barrels firing together. These eagles +were called Royal, because their concern was <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb158" href="#pb158" name="pb158">158</a>]</span>with +conqueror princes, who were too fond in their lifetime of the sounds of +war and cannon. And for their punishment these matchlocks were fired +off in their faces again and again throughout eternity.</p> +<p>Besides the ostriches, apes, and eagles, reared up a great serpent +with a bear’s coat, who writhed and twisted this way and that. He +was of great length and breadth, beyond all measure, and had a hundred +thousand hairy arms, in each of which he held an iron pike as sharp as +a razor. He was called the Spaniards’ Serpent, because in hell it +was his task to gash about with his pikes without mercy all the bands +of traitor pillagers who had despoiled our good country.</p> +<p>Keeping clear of this serpent with great prudence, darted about +mischievous little winged pigs whose tails were eels. These tails were +designed for the perpetual teazing of such gluttons as came to hell. +For the pig would come up to such a one, hold the eel close to his +mouth, and, when he tried to bite it, suddenly fly away from him, and +so on throughout eternity.</p> +<p>There were to be seen also, marching up and down in their gorgeous +feathers, monstrous peacocks. Whenever some vain dandy came their way, +giving himself airs in his fine clothes, one of these peacocks would go +to him and spread its tail, as if inviting him to pluck out a fine +feather for his bonnet. But as soon as the dandy approached to take his +feather, Master Peacock would let fly in his face with filthy and +evil-smelling water, which spoilt all his fine clothes. And throughout +eternity the dandy would try to get the feather, and throughout +eternity be so swilled down.</p> +<p>Among these fearful animals, wandered two by two male and female +grasshoppers as big as a man, the one playing on a pipe, and the other +brandishing a great knotted stick. Whenever they saw a man who, in his +lifetime, leapt, by cowardice, from good to evil, from black to white, +from fire to water, always on the side of the strongest, these +grasshoppers would go to him, and one would play the pipe, while the +other, leaning on his stick with great dignity, would <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb159" href="#pb159" name="pb159">159</a>]</span>say: +“Leap for God,” and the man would leap; “Leap for the +Devil,” and the man would leap again; “Leap for Calvin, +leap for the Mass, leap for the goat, leap for the cabbage,” and +the man would keep leaping. But he never leapt high enough for the +liking of the grasshopper with the stick, and so he was each time +belaboured in a most pitiless manner. And he leapt without ceasing and +was belaboured without respite, while the pipe made continual pleasant +music, and so on throughout eternity.</p> +<p>Farther on, naked and lying on cloths of gold, silk, and velvet, +covered with pearls and a thousand resplendent gems, more beautiful +than the most beautiful ladies of Ghent, Brussels, or Bruges, +lascivious and smiling, singing, and playing on sweet instruments, were +the wives of the devils. These dealt out punishment to old rakes, +corrupters of youth and beauty. To them these she-devils would call out +amorously, but they could never get near them. Throughout eternity +these poor rakes had to look at them without being able to touch them +even with the tip of the nail of their little finger. And they wept and +made lamentation, but all in vain, and so on through centuries and +centuries.</p> +<p>There were also mischievous little devils with drums, made of the +skins of hypocrites, whose masks hung down over the drum case as +ornament. And the hypocrites to whom they belonged, without their +skins, without their masks, in all their ugliness, ashamed, hooted, +hissed, spat at, eaten up by horrible flies, and followed by the little +devils beating their drums, had to wander up and down hell throughout +eternity.</p> +<p>It was good to see also the devils of conceited men. These were fine +great leathern bottles full of wind, finished off with a beak, at the +end of which was a reed. These bottles had eagle’s feet and two +good little arms, with fingers long enough to go round the widest part +of the bottle. When the conceited man came into hell, saying: “I +am great, I am grand, strong, beautiful, victorious, I will overcome +Lucifer and marry his dam Astarte,” the leathern bottles would +come <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb160" href="#pb160" name= +"pb160">160</a>]</span>up to him and say, with a deep reverence: +“My lord, will you be pleased to let us speak a word to you in +secret, touching your high designs?” “Yes,” he would +say. Then two bottles would stuff their reeds into his ears in such a +manner that he could not get them out again, and begin to press in +their bellies with their long fingers, so as to force wind into his +head, which thereupon swelled up, large and always larger, and Master +Self-Conceit rose into the air and went off to wander throughout +eternity, with his head bumping the ceiling of hell, and his legs +waving in the air in the efforts to get down again; but all in +vain.</p> +<p>Marvellous devils were certain apes of quicksilver, always running, +tumbling, leaping, coming, and going. These devils bore down on the +lazy fellows who were thrown to them, gave them a spade to dig earth +with, a sword to polish, a tree to trim, or a book to con. The +lazybones would look at the task set him, saying: +“To-morrow,” and would stretch his arms, scratching and +yawning. But as soon as he had his mouth wide open the ape would stuff +into it a sponge soaked in quintessence of rhubarb. “This,” +he would say mockingly, “is for to-day; work, slug, work.” +Then, while the lazybones was retching, the devil would thump him, +shake him a hundred different ways, giving him no more peace than a +gadfly gives a horse, and so on throughout eternity.</p> +<p>Pleasing devils were pretty little children very wide-awake and +mischievous, whose concern was to teach learned orators to think, +speak, weep, and laugh according to common nature. And when they did +otherwise the little devils would rap them sharply on the knuckles. But +the poor pedants could no longer learn, being too heavy, old, and +stupid; so they had a rap on the knuckles every day and a whipping on +Sundays.</p> +<p>And all these devils cried out together: “Master, we are +hungry; Master, give us to eat, pay somewhat for the good services we +render thee.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb161" href="#pb161" +name="pb161">161</a>]</span></p> +<p>And suddenly the man in the chariot made a sign, and the good River +Lys threw all these devils on the quay, as the sea splashes on the +shore, and they hissed loud and terribly at landing.</p> +<p>And Smetse, his wife, and the workmen heard the doors of the cellars +open with a loud noise, and all the casks of <i>bruinbier</i> came +hissing up the stairs, and hissing across the floor of the forge, and +still hissing described a curve in the air and fell among the crowd of +all the devils. And so also did the bottles of wine, so also the hams, +loaves, and cheeses, and so also the good <i>crusats</i>, +<i>angelots</i>, <i>philipdalers</i>, and other moneys, which were all +changed into meat and drink. And the devils fell over one another, +fought, scrambled, wounded themselves, forming only one great mass of +battling monsters, howling and hissing, and each trying to get more +than the others. When there was left neither drop nor crumb, the man in +the chariot made another sign, and all the devils melted into black +water and flowed into the river, where they disappeared. And the man +vanished from the sky.</p> +<p>And Smetse Smee was as poor as before, save for one little bag of +golden <i>royals</i>, which his wife had by chance sprinkled with holy +water, and which he kept, although it came from the devil. But this, as +you shall see, did not profit him at all. And he lived with great +content until he died suddenly one day in his smithy, at the great and +blessed age of ninety-three years.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XVII.</span> Of Hell, of +Purgatory, of the long ladder, and finally of Paradise.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">When he was dead his soul had to pass through Hell in +the guise of a smith. Coming thither he saw, through the open windows, +the devils which had so frightened him in the vision on the Lys, and +who were now busy torturing and tormenting the poor damned souls as +terribly as they could. And Smetse went to the doorkeeper; but the +doorkeeper, on seeing him, howled out in a most awful fashion: +“Smetse <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb162" href="#pb162" name= +"pb162">162</a>]</span>is here, Smetse Smee the traitor smith!” +And he would not let him in. Hearing the hubbub, My Lord Lucifer, Madam +Astarte, and all their court came to the windows, and all the other +devils after them.</p> +<p>And they all cried out in fear:</p> +<p>“Shut the doors, ’tis the enchanted Smetse, Smetse the +traitor smith, Smetse the beater of poor devils. If he comes in here he +will overset, spoil, break up everything. Begone, Smetse!”</p> +<p>“My masters,” said Smetse, “if I do indeed come +hither to look at your snouts, which are not beautiful I promise ye, +’tis not at all for my pleasure; and besides, I am not by any +means anxious to come in. So do not make such a noise, master +devils.”</p> +<p>“Yes, indeed, my fine smith,” answered Madam Astarte, +“thou showest a velvet pad now, but when thou art within thou +wilt show thy claws and thine evil intention, and will slay us all, me, +my good husband, and all our friends. Be off, Smetse; be off, +Smee.”</p> +<p>“Madam,” said Smetse, “you are indeed the most +beautiful she-devil I ever saw, but that is, nevertheless, no reason +why you should think so ill of a fellow-creature’s +intentions.”</p> +<p>“Hark to the fellow!” said Madam Astarte, “how he +hides his wickedness under sugared words! Drive him away, devils, but +do him no great harm.”</p> +<p>“Madam,” said Smetse, “I beg you to +listen.”</p> +<p>“Be off, smith!” cried out all the devils; and they +threw burning coals at him, and whatever else they could find. And +Smetse ran off as fast as his legs would take him.</p> +<p>When he had travelled some way he came before Purgatory. On the +other side was a ladder, with this inscription at its foot: “This +is the road to the good Paradise.”</p> +<p>And Smetse, filled with joy, began to climb the ladder, which was +made of golden thread, with here and there a <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb163" href="#pb163" name= +"pb163">163</a>]</span>sharp point sticking out, in virtue of that +saying of God which tells us: “Broad is the way which leadeth to +Hell, strait and rough the way to Heaven.” And, indeed, Smetse +soon had his feet sore. Nevertheless, he made his way upward without +halting, and only stopped when he had counted ten hundred thousand +rungs and could see no more of either earth or hell. And he became +thirsty. Finding nothing to drink he became a little sullen, when +suddenly he saw a little cloud coming past, and drank it up joyfully. +It did not indeed seem to him as good drink as <i>bruinbier</i>, but he +took consolation from the thought that it is not possible to have +comforts everywhere alike. A little higher up the ladder he suddenly +had hard work to keep his bonnet on his head, by reason of a +treacherous autumn wind which was going down to earth to pull off the +last leaves. And by this wind he was sorely shaken, and nearly lost his +hold. After he was out of this pass he became hungry, and regretted the +good earthly beef, smoked over pine-cones, which is so good a food for +poor wayfarers. But he took heart, thinking that it is not given to man +to understand everything.</p> +<p>Suddenly he saw an eagle of terrible aspect coming upon him from the +earth. Thinking for certain that he was some fat sheep, the eagle rose +above him and would have dropped on him like a cannon-ball; but the +good smith had no fear, bent to one side and caught the bird by the +neck, which he wrung subtly. Then, still going up, he hastened to pluck +it, ate morsels of it raw, and found them stringy. Nevertheless, he +took this meat with patience, because he had no other. Then, patiently +and bravely, he climbed for several days and several nights, seeing +nothing but the blue of the sky and innumerable suns, moons, and stars +above his head, under his feet, to right, to left, and everywhere. And +he seemed to be in the midst of a fair great globe, whereof the inner +walls had been painted this fair blue, strewn with all these suns, +moons, and stars. And he was frightened by the great silence and by the +immensity. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb164" href="#pb164" name= +"pb164">164</a>]</span></p> +<p>Suddenly he felt a genial warmth, heard sweet voices singing, +distant music, and the sound of a city toiling. And he saw a town of +infinite size girt about with walls, over which he could see housetops, +trees, and towers. And he felt that he was moving more quickly despite +his own legs, and by and by, leaving the last rung behind, he set foot +before the gate of the town.</p> +<p>“By Artevelde!” said he, “here is the good +Paradise.”</p> +<p>And he knocked on the gate; St. Peter came to open to him.</p> +<p>Smetse was somewhat frightened at the gigantic appearance of the +good saint, his great head of hair, his red beard, his large face, his +high forehead, and his piercing eyes, with which he looked at him +fixedly.</p> +<p>“Who art thou?” quoth he.</p> +<p>“Master St. Peter,” said the smith, “I am Smetse +Smee, who in his lifetime lived at Ghent on the Quai aux Oignons, and +now prays you to let him enter your good Paradise.”</p> +<p>“No,” said St. Peter.</p> +<p>“Ah, my master!” said Smetse most piteously, “if +’tis because in my lifetime I sold my soul to the devil, I make +bold to tell you that I repented most heartily, and was redeemed from +his power and kept nothing that was his.”</p> +<p>“Excepting a sackful of <i>royals</i>,” said the saint, +“and on that account thou shalt not come in.”</p> +<p>“Master,” said the smith, “I am not so guilty as +you suppose; the sack stayed in my house because it had been blessed, +and for that reason I thought I might well keep it. But take pity on +me, for I knew not what I was doing. I pray you also to deign to +consider that I come from a far country, that I am greatly tired, and +would gladly rest in this good Paradise.”</p> +<p>“Be off, smith,” said the saint, who was holding the +door a crack open.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Smetse had slipped through the opening, and taking off his +leathern apron sat down, saying: <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb165" +href="#pb165" name="pb165">165</a>]</span></p> +<p>“Master, I am here rightfully, you cannot turn me +out.”</p> +<p>But St. Peter bade a troop of halberdier angels who were near at +hand drive him away: and this the halberdier angels did with great +dispatch.</p> +<p>Thereafter, Smetse did not cease to beat on the door with his fists, +and lamented, wept, and cried out: “Master, have pity on me, let +me in, my master; I repent of all the sins I have committed, and even +the others as well. Master, grant me permission to enter the blessed +Paradise. Master....” But Master St. Peter, hearing this, put his +head over the wall:</p> +<p>“Smith,” said he, “if thou wilt persist in this +uproar, I shall have thee sent to Purgatory.”</p> +<p>And poor Smetse held his peace, and sat down on his seat, and so +passed sad days, watching others enter.</p> +<p>In this wise a week went by, during which he lived on a few scraps +of bread which were thrown to him over the wall, and on grapes gathered +from a sour vine which grew on the outer face of the wall of Paradise +in this part.</p> +<p>And Smetse was most unhappy, leading this idle existence. And he +sought in his head for some work or other which would gladden him +somewhat. Having found it, he shouted as loud as he could, and St. +Peter put his head over the wall.</p> +<p>“What wilt thou, Smetse?” said he.</p> +<p>“Master,” answered the smith, “will you be pleased +to let me go down to earth for one night, so that I may see my good +wife and look to my affairs?”</p> +<p>“Thou mayst, Smetse,” answered St. Peter.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XVIII.</span> Wherein it is +seen why Smetse was whipped.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">It was then All Saints’ Eve; bitter was the +cold, and Smetse’s good wife was in her kitchen, brewing some +good mixture of sugar, yolk of egg, and <i>bruinbier</i>, to cure her +of an evil catarrh, which had lain upon her ever since her man died. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb166" href="#pb166" name= +"pb166">166</a>]</span></p> +<p>Smetse came and knocked at the window of the kitchen, whereat his +wife was greatly frightened.</p> +<p>And she cried out sadly: “Do not come and torment me, my man, +if ’tis prayers thou wilt have. I say as many as I can, but I +will say more if need be. Wilt thou have masses said? Thou shalt have +them, and prayers and indulgences likewise. I will buy them, my man, I +promise thee; but go back quickly whence thou camest.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless Smetse went on knocking. “’Tis not masses +or prayers,” said he, “that I want, but shelter, food, and +drink, for bitter is the cold, rude the wind, sharp the frost. Open, +wife.”</p> +<p>But she, on hearing him speak thus, prayed the more and cried out +the louder, and beat her breast and crossed herself, but made no move +to open the door, saying only: “Go back, go back, my man; thou +shalt have prayers and masses.”</p> +<p>Suddenly the smith discerned an open window in the attic. He climbed +up and entered the house by that means, went down the stair, and, +opening the door, appeared before his wife; but as she kept drawing +back before him as he advanced, crying out and calling the neighbours +at the top of her voice, Smetse stood still so as not to frighten her +further, sat down on a stool, and said:</p> +<p>“Dost not see, mother, that I am indeed Smetse, and wish thee +no harm?”</p> +<p>But his wife would listen to nothing and crept back into a corner. +Thence with her teeth a-chatter, and her eyes open wide, she made a +sign to him to leave her, for she could no longer find her tongue, by +reason of her great fear.</p> +<p>“Wife,” said the smith in friendly tones, “is it +thus that thou givest greeting and welcome to thy poor husband, after +the long time he has been away? Alas, hast forgot our old comradeship +and union?”</p> +<p>Hearing this soft and joyous voice she answered in a low tone and +with great timidity: <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb167" href="#pb167" +name="pb167">167</a>]</span></p> +<p>“No, dead master.”</p> +<p>“Well then,” said he, “why art thou so afraid? +Dost not know thy man’s fat face, his round paunch, and the voice +which in former days sang so readily hereabout?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said, “I know thee well +enough.”</p> +<p>And why,” said he, “if thou knowest me, wilt not come to +me and touch me?”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said she, “I dare not, master, for +’tis said that whatever member touches a dead man is itself +dead.”</p> +<p>“Come, wife,” said the smith, “and do not believe +all these lying tales.”</p> +<p>“Smetse,” said she, “will you in good truth do me +no hurt?”</p> +<p>“None,” said he, and took her by the hand.</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said suddenly, “my poor man, thou art +cold and hungry and thirsty indeed!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he.</p> +<p>“Well then,” said she, “eat, drink, and warm +thyself.”</p> +<p>While Smetse was eating and drinking he told his wife how he had +been forbidden the door to Paradise, and how he designed to take from +the cellar a full cask of <i>bruinbier</i> and bottles of French wine, +to sell to those who went into the Holy City, so that he might be well +paid, and with the money he received buy himself better food.</p> +<p>“This, my man,” she said, “is all very well, but +will Master St. Peter give thee permission to set up at the gates of +Paradise such a tavern?”</p> +<p>“Of that,” he said, “I have hope.”</p> +<p>And Smetse, laden with his cask and bottles, went his way back, up +towards the good Paradise.</p> +<p>Having reached the foot of the wall he set up his tavern in the open +air, for the weather is mild in this heavenly land, and on the first +day all who went in drank at Smetse’s stall, and paid him well +out of compassion.</p> +<p>But one or two became drunk, and entering Paradise in this state, +set Master Peter inquiring into the cause of it; <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb168" href="#pb168" name="pb168">168</a>]</span>and +having found it out he enjoined Smetse to stop his selling, and had him +whipped grievously.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="div2"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divHead"> +<h3 class="main"><span class="headDivNum">XIX.</span> Of the fair +judgment of My Lord Jesus.</h3> +</div> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first">Not long afterwards the good wife died also, by reason +of the terror that had seized hold of her at the sight of her +man’s ghost.</p> +<p>And her soul went straight towards Paradise, and there she saw, +sitting with his seat against the wall, the poor Smetse in a fit of +melancholy brooding. When he saw her he jumped up with great joy, and +said:</p> +<p>“Wife, I will go in with thee.”</p> +<p>“Dost thou dare?” said she.</p> +<p>“I will hide myself,” said he, “under thy skirt, +which is wide enough for us both, and so I shall pass without being +seen.”</p> +<p>When he had done this she knocked on the door, and Master St. Peter +came to open it. “Come in,” he said, “good +wife.” But seeing Smetse’s feet below the hem of the skirt: +“This wicked smith,” he cried, “will he always be +making fun of me? Be off, devil-baggage!”</p> +<p>“Ah, my master,” said she, “have pity on him, or +else let me stay out, too, to keep him company.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Master St. Peter, “thy place is here, +his is outside. Come in then, and let him be off at once.”</p> +<p>And the good wife went in while Smetse stayed outside. But as soon +as the noonday hour came, and the angel cooks had brought the good wife +her beautiful rice pudding, she went to the wall and put her head over +it.</p> +<p>“Art thou there,” she said, “my man?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he.</p> +<p>“Art thou hungry?” she said.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said he.</p> +<p>“Well then,” she said, “spread thy leathern apron; +I will throw thee the pudding which has just been given me.” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb169" href="#pb169" name= +"pb169">169</a>]</span></p> +<p>“But thou,” said he, “wilt thou eat +nothing?”</p> +<p>“No,” said she, “for I have heard it said that +there is supper by and by.”</p> +<p>Smetse ate the rice pudding, and was suddenly filled with comfort, +for the pudding was more succulent and delicious than the finest meats +of the earth. Meanwhile his wife went off to walk about in the good +Paradise, and afterwards came back to Smetse to tell him what she had +seen.</p> +<p>“Ah,” she said, “my man, ’tis a most +beautiful place. Would that I could see thee within! Round about My +Lord Jesus are the pure intelligences who discuss with him whatever is +goodness, love, justice, knowledge, and beauty, and also the best means +of governing men and making them happy. Their speech is like music. And +all the while they keep throwing down to earth the seeds of beautiful, +good, just and true thoughts. But men are so wicked and stupid that +they tread underfoot these fair seeds or let them wither away. Farther +on, established in their several places, are potters and goldsmiths, +masons, painters, tanners and fullers, carpenters and shipbuilders, and +thou shouldst see what fine work they do, each in his own trade. And +when they have made some progress they cast down the seed of that also +towards the earth, but ’tis lost oftentimes.”</p> +<p>“Wife,” said Smetse, “didst see no +smiths?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said she.</p> +<p>“Alas,” said he, “I would gladly be working +alongside them, for I am ashamed to be sitting here like a leper, doing +nothing and begging my bread. But listen, wife; since Master St. Peter +will not let me in, go thou and ask grace for me from My Lord Jesus, +who is kind and will let me in for certain.”</p> +<p>“I go, my man,” said she.</p> +<p>My Lord Jesus, who was in council with his doctors, saw her coming +towards him. “I know thee, good wife,” said he; “thou +wast in thy lifetime wedded to Smetse the smith, who entreated me so +well when, in the guise of a little <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb170" href="#pb170" name="pb170">170</a>]</span>child, I came down to +earth with Master Joseph and Madam Mary. Is he not in Paradise, thy +good man?”</p> +<p>“Alas, no, My Lord!” answered she, “my man is at +the door, most sad and out of heart, because Master St. Peter will not +let him in.”</p> +<p>“Why is that?” said My Lord Jesus.</p> +<p>“Ah, I cannot tell,” said she.</p> +<p>But the angel who writes down the faults of men in a record of +brass, speaking suddenly, said: “Smetse cannot enter Paradise, +for Smetse, delivered from the devil, kept devil’s +money.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said My Lord Jesus, “that is a great sin; +but has he not repented of it?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the good wife, “he has repented, and, +moreover, he has been all his life good, charitable, and +compassionate.”</p> +<p>“Go and find him,” said My Lord Jesus, “I will +question him myself.”</p> +<p>Two or three halberdier angels ran to obey him, and brought Smetse +before the Son of God, who spoke in this wise:</p> +<p>“Smetse, is it true that thou didst keep devil’s +money?”</p> +<p>“Yes, My Lord,” answered the smith, whose knees were +knocking together with fear.</p> +<p>“Smetse, this is not good, for a man should rather suffer +every ill, pain, and anguish, than keep the money of one who is wicked, +ugly, unjust, and a liar, as is the devil. But hast thou no meritorious +deed to tell me, to mitigate this great sin?”</p> +<p>“My Lord,” answered Smetse, “I fought a long while +beside the men of Zeeland for freedom of conscience, and, doing this, +suffered with them hunger and thirst.”</p> +<p>“This is good, Smetse, but didst thou persist in this fair +conduct?”</p> +<p>“Alas, no, My Lord!” said the smith, “for, to tell +truth, my courage lacked constancy, and I went back to Ghent, +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb171" href="#pb171" name= +"pb171">171</a>]</span>where, like so many another, I came under the +Spanish yoke.”</p> +<p>“This is bad, Smetse,” answered My Lord Jesus.</p> +<p>“My Lord,” wept the good wife, “none was more +generous than he to the poor, kind to every one, charitable to his +enemies, even to the wicked Slimbroek.”</p> +<p>“This is good, Smetse,” said My Lord Jesus; “but +hast thou no other merit in thy favour?”</p> +<p>“My Lord,” said the smith, “I have always laboured +with a good heart, hated idleness and melancholy, loved joy and +merriment, sung gladly, and drunk with thankfulness the +<i>bruinbier</i> which came to me from you.”</p> +<p>“This is good, Smetse, but it is not enough.”</p> +<p>“My Lord,” answered the smith, “I thrashed as +soundly as I could the wicked ghosts of Jacob Hessels, the Duke of +Alva, and Philip II, King of Spain.”</p> +<p>“Smetse,” said My Lord Jesus, “this is very good. +I grant thee leave to enter my Paradise.” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb173" href="#pb173" name="pb173">173</a>]</span></p> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="back"> +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> +<div class="divBody"> +<p class="first xd20e4673"><span class="xd20e4674">UNIFORM WITH +“FLEMISH LEGENDS”</span></p> +<p class="xd20e4677"><a class="pglink xd20e51" title= +"Link to Project Gutenberg ebook" href= +"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37599">THE LEGEND OF TYL +ULENSPIEGEL</a></p> +<p class="xd20e4673">BY CHARLES DE COSTER</p> +<p class="xd20e127">Translated by <span class="sc">Geoffrey +Whitworth</span>. With 20 Woodcuts by <span class="sc">Albert +Delstanche</span>. 7s. 6d. net</p> +<hr class="tb"> +<p class="xd20e4673"><span class="xd20e4694">SOME PRESS +OPINIONS</span></p> +<p>“Tyl Ulenspiegel is not yet, in most English households, an +old friend. Yet we believe that the fellow will soon make his brave and +humorous way into the friendship of old and young. And the twenty +full-page woodcuts with which M. Albert Delstanche has illustrated this +edition will help the friendship on. All the heartiness, the +ruggedness, the fun, and the gloom of one tragic period in the history +of a homely and much-enduring people are expressed through the eye to +the mind by M. Delstanche’s knowledge and +skill.”—<i>The Times.</i></p> +<p>“An excellent translation has brought a notable example of +modern Belgian literature within the reach of readers in this country. +Taking as his central figure the scampish Tyl Ulenspiegel, already in +the sixteenth century a traditional personage, De Coster produced a +remarkable reconstruction of Flemish life in the days of Spanish +oppression and of the famous +‘Beggars’.”—<i>Scotsman.</i></p> +<p>“On the large scale, the obvious work of a master, a man who +knew sorrow but who loved to share the mirth and good living of his +fellows, mocked impostors wherever he found them, and had a hatred of +cruelty and injustice that is like lightning. It is one of the rare +books, full of sad laughter and warm understanding, of the order of +‘Don Quixote’.”—<i>The Nation.</i></p> +<p>“It is a happy thought which has brought out Mr. Geoffrey +Whitworth’s version of ‘The Legend of Tyl +Ulenspiegel’ now ... for the description of it as the +‘national epic of Flanders’ has much <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb174" href="#pb174" name="pb174">174</a>]</span>more +meaning than such phrases usually have.... And all the adventures of +Tyl and his friends have this quality of reality in fairy-land, whether +they are grotesque or tragic. The book has tragedy in it to balance its +boisterous comedy, but the two are combined in a style whose generosity +and exuberance make their union complete and satisfactory. It is a +great book indeed. Mr. Whitworth is to be congratulated on his +excellently easy and vivid translation; and the woodcuts of M. Albert +Delstanche are all exceedingly impressive and many exceedingly +beautiful.”—<i>Land and Water.</i></p> +<p>“It is hardly too much to say that De Coster’s book is a +work of pure genius.... At such a moment as the present no publication +could be more timely than this English version of what will inevitably +rank as a great epic of Belgian nationality.... For the rest, we have +only to compliment the publishers, the translator, and the illustrator +upon their joint efforts to present a fine work in a worthy and +acceptable form.”—<i>The Guardian.</i></p> +<p>“The illustrator’s bold and luminous drawings certainly +catch the bluff spirit of Charles de Coster’s quaint masterpiece, +in which the transition-age between mediævalism and modernity +lives again so grimly, so shrewdly, so humorously. Here there is a +suitable gift-book for all who love to travel in the highways of +world-literature.”—<i>Morning Post.</i></p> +<p>“It is, of course, for adults and not for children, with its +grim horrors and its full-blooded jollity. What we have learnt to call +the soul of a people is in it—the spirit of Flanders. The force +of De Coster’s style loses nothing in Mr. Geoffrey +Whitworth’s translation, and there are admirable illustrations +cut on the wood by M. Albert Delstanche.”—<i>Daily +Telegraph.</i></p> +<p>“A most remarkable volume.”—<i>Glasgow +Herald.</i></p> +<p>“Reading it for the first time in Mr. Whitworth’s +admirable English version, one is amazed at first that it has not been +rendered previously. De Coster will never require another English +version, and this one book of ‘glorious adventures’ is +aureole enough to ensure his place on the great hierarchy of +literature.”—<i>The Bookman.</i></p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="transcribernote"> +<h2 class="main">Colophon</h2> +<h3 class="main">Availability</h3> +<p class="first">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no +cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give +it away or re-use it under the terms of the <a class="exlink xd20e51" +title="External link" href="https://www.gutenberg.org/license" rel= +"license">Project Gutenberg License</a> included with this eBook or +online at <a class="exlink xd20e51" title="External link" href= +"https://www.gutenberg.org/" rel="home">www.gutenberg.org</a>.</p> +<p>This eBook is produced by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at <a class="exlink xd20e51" title="External link" href= +"https://www.pgdp.net/">www.pgdp.net</a> (This file was produced from +images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries).</p> +<p>Scans for this work are available from the Internet Archive (US +edition: <a class="exlink xd20e51" title="External link" href= +"http://www.archive.org/details/flemishlegends00costrich">1</a>; UK +edition: <a class="exlink xd20e51" title="External link" href= +"http://www.archive.org/details/flemishlegends00costiala">1</a>, +<a class="exlink xd20e51" title="External link" href= +"http://www.archive.org/details/flemishlegends00costuoft">2</a>.)</p> +<p>Related Library of Congress catalog page: <a class="catlink" href= +"http://lccn.loc.gov/20026992">20026992</a>.</p> +<p>Related Open Library catalog page (for source): <a class="catlink" +href="http://openlibrary.org/books/OL6630959M">OL6630959M</a>.</p> +<p>Related Open Library catalog page (for work): <a class="catlink" +href="http://openlibrary.org/works/OL1274412W">OL1274412W</a>.</p> +<p>Related WorldCat catalog page: <a class="catlink" href= +"http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/381646">381646</a>.</p> +<h3 class="main">Encoding</h3> +<p class="first"></p> +<h3 class="main">Revision History</h3> +<ul> +<li>2011-10-07 Started.</li> +</ul> +<h3 class="main">External References</h3> +<p>This Project Gutenberg eBook contains external references. These +links may not work for you.</p> +<h3 class="main">Corrections</h3> +<p>The following corrections have been applied to the text:</p> +<table width="75%" summary= +"Overview of corrections applied to the text."> +<tr> +<th>Page</th> +<th>Source</th> +<th>Correction</th> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20" valign="top"><a class="pageref" href= +"#xd20e665">15</a></td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">[<i>Not in source</i>]</td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">”</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20" valign="top"><a class="pageref" href= +"#xd20e1637">55</a></td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">,</td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20" valign="top"><a class="pageref" href= +"#xd20e2035">67</a></td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">:</td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20" valign="top"><a class="pageref" href= +"#xd20e2798">90</a></td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">our</td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">out</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20" valign="top"><a class="pageref" href= +"#xd20e3539">121</a></td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">[<i>Not in source</i>]</td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">,</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="width20" valign="top"><a class="pageref" href= +"#xd20e4233">151</a></td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">”</td> +<td class="width40" valign="bottom">[<i>Deleted</i>]</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Flemish Legends, by Charles de Coster + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLEMISH LEGENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 37668-h.htm or 37668-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/6/6/37668/ + +Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ for Project +Gutenberg (This file was produced from images generously +made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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