Part 12

But smiling in the midst, the giant reclined on a bed of flowers that had been withered by his own hand, and of leaves dried by his very breath. Then, leaning down and scratching the ground with his finger-nails, and biting it with his teeth, the giant began to burrow a great pit. For he wanted to discover the heart of the earth to devour it, and to put the blackened coal where once there had been shady forests, and chaff where once had been corn, and barren sand in place of fruitful soil. But old earth's heart was made of fire, so that he dared not touch it but recoiled therefrom in dread.

There he sat like a king upon his throne, draining his horn of oil. All round him were his bears and seals, and the skeletons of those whom he had killed on the high seas or on the dry land or in the cottages of the poor. He listened joyfully to the roaring of the bears, to the braying of the seals, and to the sound made by the skeletons of men and animals as the bones clicked together beneath the claws of the crows and vultures that came for the last remaining piece of flesh that might still adhere to them. And sweet also to his ears was the noise the ice-floes made as they were driven one against another by the waves of that dreary sea.

And when he spoke, the voice of the giant was even as the roaring of a hurricane or as the noise of winter storms, or as the wind howling in the chimneys.

"I am cold and afraid," said Ulenspiegel.

"He is powerless against immortal souls," said Nele.

Even as she spoke a great commotion arose among the seals, who began to rush back into the sea with all haste. And it was apparent that the bears also were afraid for they lay back their ears and began to bellow most piteously. As for the crows and ravens, they cawed as though they were in terror of their lives, and started off to hide themselves among the clouds.

And now it was that Nele and Ulenspiegel first began to hear a sound as of a mighty battering-ram beating upon the farther side of that glassy wall against which Giant Winter had been reclining. And the wall cracked visibly and shook to its foundations. But of all this Giant Winter heard nothing at all, for he went on baying and bellowing most joyfully, filling and emptying again and again his bowl of oil, and continuing his search for the heart of the earth, that he might freeze it to nothing, although, forsooth, whenever he found that fiery centre he always lacked the courage so much as to take it in his hand!

Meanwhile the blows of the battering-ram resounded heavier and louder, and the crack in the wall of ice grew broader every second, and all around the giant, the rain of icicles ceased not to fall in myriad fragments. And the bears roared ceaselessly and piteously, and the seals sent up their plaintive cries from the dreary waste of water.

Suddenly the wall gave way, and from the bright sky beyond it a man descended. Naked he was, most beautiful of aspect, holding in one of his hands a hatchet of pure gold. This was Lucifer, the light-bringer, Lord of the Spring.

When Giant Winter saw him he immediately cast away his bowl of oil and entreated the new-comer to spare at least his life. But at the first warm breath of Spring, Giant Winter lost all his strength, and Lucifer was able to bind him with a chain of diamonds, and tie him securely to the Pole.

Then, standing still, the Lord of the Spring most tenderly and amorously cried aloud, and from the heavens there descended a woman, naked also, and most fair, most beautiful. She stood beside her lord, and spake to him:

"You are my conqueror, strong man."

And thus he answered her:

"If you are hungry, eat; if you are thirsty, drink; if you are afraid, come near to me. I am your mate."

"I have no hunger, no thirst, but for thee alone," she said.

Then the Lord of the Spring called out yet seven times and again. Most tremendous was his voice, and there was a mighty din of thunder and lightning, and behind him there came into being a kind of dais all made of suns and stars. And the lord and his lady sat them down on two thrones.

Then these twain, their countenances remaining still and motionless, and without the least tremor to spoil the calmness of their majesty and their power, both together cried aloud. And at that sound there was a movement in the earth like that of a countless multitude of worms, and not in the earth only but in the hard stone and in the ice-floes also. And Nele and Ulenspiegel heard a sound like that which might be made by gigantic birds trying to crack with their beaks the great imprisoning egg-shells wherein they were concealed. And amid this great commotion of the earth, heaving and subsiding like the waves of the sea, there appeared forms like those of eggs.

And suddenly, on all sides, trees emerged, their bare branches all entangled together, and their stems shaking and tottering together like drunken men, which began to separate themselves the one from the other, leaving empty spaces of earth between. And now from the ever restless soil there emerged the Spirits of Earth, and from the depths of the forest the Spirits of the Woods, and from the neighbouring sea, now cleared of ice, the Spirits of the Water.

And Nele and Ulenspiegel could discern the guardian spirits of all these wonders. Dwarfs there were, men of the woods that lived like trees and carried, instead of mouths and stomachs, little clusters of roots sprouting from below the face to the end that they might suck their nourishment from the bosom of mother earth. Lords of the mines there were as well, they that know no speech, and are destitute of heart or entrails, and move about like glittering automatons. There came also the dwarfs of flesh and bone, little fellows with lizards' tails and the heads of toads, and a lantern on their head for head-gear. These are they that leap by night upon the shoulder of the drunken wayfarer or the tired traveller, and then jump down again, waving their lanterns the while so as to lead into marsh or ditch that hapless wight who thinks the light he sees is a candle set to beacon his way home.

There came too the Girl-Flower spirits, blossoms they of womanly health and strength. Naked they were and unashamed, glorying in their beauty, and having nothing to cover them but their hair. The eyes of these maids shone liquid like mother-of-pearl seen through water; the flesh of their bodies was firm, white, and glittering in the sunshine; and from half-opened ruby lips their breath wafted down more balmy than jasmine.

These are the maids that wander at eventide in the parks or gardens of the world, or belike in the shady paths of some woodland glade. Amorous they are, searching ever for some soul of man to possess it for themselves. And whenever some mortal lad and lass come walking their way, they try to kill the girl, but failing in this they breathe a breath of love upon the doubting damsel, so that she fears no longer to abandon herself to the delights of love, but gives herself to her lover. For then the Girl-Flower is permitted to take her share of the kisses.

Besides all this, Nele and Ulenspiegel could see descending now far from heaven the Guardian Spirits of the Stars, the Spirits of the Winds, of the Breezes, and of the Rain: young, winged men that fertilize the earth. And there appeared from every point in the heavens the soul-birds, the dear swallows. At their coming the light itself seemed to grow brighter, and the girl-flowers, the lords of the rocks, the princes of the mines, the men of the woods, the spirits of water, fire, and earth, all cried out with one voice, "O Light, O sap of Spring, Glory to the Spirit of Spring!" And though the sound of all this shouting was more powerful than the noise of a raging sea, or of a thunder-storm, or of a hurricane let loose, yet it seemed most solemn music to the ears of Nele and Ulenspiegel, who stood, motionless and dumb, curled up behind the gnarled and wrinkled stem of a mighty oak.

But sights more terrible yet awaited them, for now the spirits took their places by thousands upon the backs of gigantic spiders, and toads with trunks like those of elephants, and serpents all intertwined, and crocodiles that stood upright on their tails and held a whole bevy of spirits in their mouths. Snakes, too, there were that carried more than thirty dwarfs at a time, both male and female, sitting astride on their writhing bodies; and thousands upon thousands of insects, more huge than Goliath himself, armed with swords, lances, jagged scythes, seven-pronged forks, and every other kind of murderous and horrifying implement. Great was the uproar, and stern the battle which they fought amongst themselves, the strong eating up the weak and getting fat thereon, thus demonstrating how death is ever born from life, and life from death.

And out of all this throng of spirits, confused and serried, there came a sound as of a deep rumbling of thunder, or of a hundred looms, of weavers, fullers, and locksmiths, all working together in full swing.

And suddenly the Spirits of the Sap made their appearance on the scene. Short they were, and squat, and their loins were as large as the great barrel of Heidelberg itself. And their thighs were fat like hogsheads of wine, and their muscles so strangely strong and powerful that one would have said that their bodies were made of naught but eggs, eggs big and little, joined up to one another, and covered over with a kind of ruddy skin, strong and glistening like their scanty beards and tawny hair. And they carried great tankards or goblets that were filled with a strange liquor.

When the other spirits saw them coming, there at once arose among them a great flutter of joy. The trees and the plants became the victims of a strange restlessness, and the thirsty earth opened in a thousand fissures that it might drink of the liquor.

And the Spirits of the Sap poured out their wine, and at the same moment everything began to bud, and to grow green, and to come into flower; and the sward was alive with buzzing insects, and the sky was filled with birds and butterflies. The spirits, meanwhile, continued pouring out their sap, and those below them received the wine as they best were able: the girl-flowers opening their mouths and leaping upon the tawny cup-bearers and kissing them for more; others clasping their hands in prayer; yet others, in their delight, allowing the precious liquid to rain upon them as it would; but all alike, hungry and thirsty, flying, standing still, running, or motionless, all greedy for the wine, and more alive for every drop they were able to get. And none was there so old, whether he were plain or handsome, but he was filled with fresh force and with new and lusty youth.

And with great shouting and laughing they pursued each other among the trees like squirrels, or in the air like birds, each male seeking his female, and acting out beneath God's open sky the sacred task of nature.

And the Spirits of the Sap brought to the King and Queen a mighty bowl brimming with their wine. And the King and the Queen drank thereof, and embraced one another. And the King, holding the Queen fast in his arms, threw the dregs of that bowl far away upon the trees and flowers and all the other spirits that were there. And loud did he raise his voice, crying:

"Glory to Life! Glory to the free air! Glory to Force!"

And all with one voice cried aloud: "Glory to Nature! Glory to Life!"

And Ulenspiegel took Nele in his arms. And thus entwined, a dance began, an eddying dance like that of leaves in a whirlwind; and in that vortex everything was swinging together, both trees and plants, and insects, the butterflies, heaven and earth itself, the King and his Queen, the girl-flowers and the lords of the mines, spirits of the water, hunchbacked dwarfs, lords of the rocks, men of the woods, will-o'-the-wisps, guardian spirits of the stars, and the thousand thousand terrible insects all commingled with their lances, their jagged swords, their seven-pronged forks. A giddy dance it was, rolling in the space which it filled, a dance wherein the very sun and moon took part, and the stars and planets, the clouds, and the winds.

And in that whirlwind the oak to which Nele and Ulenspiegel were clinging rolled over on its side, and Ulenspiegel said to Nele:

"We are going to die, little one...."

These words of Ulenspiegel one of the spirits overheard, and seeing that they were mortals:

"Men!" he cried. "Men, here?"

And he dragged them from the tree to which they clung, and cast them into the very midst of the crowd. But they fell softly on the backs of the spirits, who passed them on one to another, bidding them welcome in such terms as these:

"All hail to man! All hail, worms of the earth! Who is there now would like to see a young mortal, a boy or a little girl? Poor wights that are come to pay us a visit!"

Nele and Ulenspiegel flew from one to the other, crying "Mercy!" But the spirits payed no attention to them, and they were suffered to go on flying about, legs in air, heads downwards, whirling about like feathers in a winter wind. And all the time the spirits were saying:

"Hail to the little men and little women! Come dance like us!" Now the girl-flowers desired to separate Nele from Ulenspiegel, and they would have beaten her to death had not the King of the Spring stopped the dance suddenly with a single gesture.

"Bring them to me," he cried; "bring before me these two lice!" So they were separated the one from the other, each girl-flower doing all she could to tear Ulenspiegel from her rival, saying:

"Tyl, Tyl, wouldst not die to have me?"

"I shall die soon enough," answered Ulenspiegel.

And the dwarfish spirits of the woods that carried Nele said to her also: "Why are you not a spirit like us that we might take you?"

And Nele answered: "Only have patience."

So they came at length before the throne of the King, and when they saw his golden axe and his crown of iron they began to tremble with fear. And he asked them:

"Wherefore have you come to see me, poor little things?"

But they answered him not at all.

"I know you," added the King, "you bud of a witch, and you also, shoot of a charcoal-burner. By power of sorcery have you penetrated into this laboratory of Nature, yet now your lips are closed like capon stuffed with bread-crumbs!"

Nele trembled as she gazed upon the awful aspect of that spirit. But the manly courage of Ulenspiegel revived, and he made answer bravely:

"The ashes of Claes beat upon my breast. For, Most Divine Highness, Death now goes gathering his harvest through all the land of Flanders, mowing down the bravest of her men and the sweetest of her women in the name of His Holiness the Pope. And the privileges of my country are broken, her charters annulled, she is wasted by famine, her weavers and cloth-workers abandon her to look for work in other lands. And soon must she die if none comes to her aid. Your Highness, I am naught indeed but a poor little chit of a man that has come into the world like any other, and I have lived as I was able, imperfect, limited on every side, ignorant, neither virtuous nor chaste, and most unworthy of any grace, human or divine. Yet my mother Soetkin died as the result of torture and grief, and Claes was burned in a terrible fire, and I have sworn to avenge them. Once I have been able to do this. But now I long to see the miserable soil of my native land made happy, the soil where the bones of my parents lie scattered; and I have asked of God the death of our persecutors, but not yet has He heard my prayer. This is why, all weary of my complaining, I have evoked your presence by the power of Katheline's charm, and this is why we are come to you, I and my trembling comrade here, to fall at your feet and to beg you, Most Divine Highness, to save our poor land!"

To this the King and his illustrious companion as with one voice made answer:

By battle and fire, By death and sword, Seek the Seven.

In death and blood, Ruin and tears, Find the Seven.

Ugly, cruel, wicked, deformed, Very scourge of the whole earth, Burn the Seven.

Listen now, attend and see, Tell us, poor thing, are you not glad? Find the Seven.

And all the spirits sang now together:

In death and blood, In ruin and tears, Find the Seven.

Listen now, attend and see, Tell us, poor thing, are you not glad? Find the Seven.

But Ulenspiegel only said:

"Your Highness, and you my Lords Spirits, I understand nothing of your language. You are mocking me, without a doubt."

But the spirits, without listening to him at all, went on with their singing:

When the North Shall kiss the West, Then shall be the end of ruin. Find the Seven, And the Cincture.

And they sang with such an effect of unanimity and such a terrifying force of sound that the very earth trembled and the heavens shuddered. And the birds twittered, the owls hooted, the sparrows chirruped with fear, the sea-eagles wailed aloud, flying hither and thither in their dismay. And all the animals of the earth, lions, snakes, bears, stags, roe-bucks, wolves, dogs, and cats, roared, hissed, belled, howled, barked, and miawed most terribly.

And the spirits kept on singing:

Listen now, attend and see, Love the Seven, And the Cincture.

And the cocks crowed, and all the spirits vanished away, excepting only one wicked lord of the mines, who took Nele and Ulenspiegel each in one of his arms, and cast them most roughly into the void.

Then they awoke and found themselves lying by each other, as if they had been asleep, and they shivered in the chill morning air.

And Ulenspiegel beheld the sweet body of Nele, all golden in the light of the rising sun.

HERE BEGINS THE SECOND BOOK OF THE LEGEND OF THE GLORIOUS JOYOUS AND HEROIC ADVENTURES OF TYL ULENSPIEGEL AND LAMME GOEDZAK IN THE LAND OF FLANDERS AND ELSEWHERE

I

One morning in September Ulenspiegel took his staff, three florins that had been given him by Katheline, a piece of pig's liver and a slice of bread, and set out to go from Damme to Antwerp, seeking the Seven. Nele he left asleep.

On the way he met a dog who followed after him, smelling around because of the liver, and jumping up at his legs. Ulenspiegel would have driven off the dog, but seeing the persistence of the animal, he thus addressed him:

"My dear dog, you are certainly ill-advised to leave your home, where you would find awaiting you an excellent meal of patties and other fine remains (to say nothing of the marrow-bones), to follow, as you are now doing, a mere adventurer of the road, a vagabond that is like to lack so much as a root to give you for nourishment. Follow my advice, most imprudent little dog, and return to your innkeeper. And for the future, take good care to avoid the rain and snow, the hail, the drizzling mists, the glassy frosts and other such wretched fare as is alone reserved for the back of the poor wanderer. Keep close at home, rather, in a corner of the hearth, and warm yourself, curled up in front of the cheerful fire. But leave to me the long wandering in mud and dust, in cold and heat, to be roasted to-day, to-morrow frozen, plenished on Friday but on Sunday famished for want of food. For, trust me, little dog, the wise thing is to return at once like a sensible and experienced little dog to the place whence you came."

But it would seem that the animal did not hear a single word of what Ulenspiegel was saying, for he continued to wag his tail and jump his highest, barking all the while, in his desire for food. Ulenspiegel imagined that all this was just a sign of friendliness, and gave no thought to the liver which he carried in his scrip.

So on and on he walked, with the dog following behind. And when they had gone in this way the better part of a league, they saw a cart on the roadside with a donkey harnessed thereto, holding his head down. On a bank, at the side of the road, between two clumps of thistles, reclined a man. He was very fat, and in one hand he held the knuckle-end of a leg of mutton, and in the other hand a bottle. He gnawed the knuckle-bone and drank from the bottle, but when he was doing neither of these things he would fall to weeping and groaning.

Ulenspiegel stopped on his way, and the dog stopped too, but quickly jumped up on to the bank, smelling doubtless a good odour of liver and mutton. There he sat on his hind legs by the fat man's side, and began to paw at the stranger's doublet, as much as to say, "Please give me a share of your meal!" But the man elbowed him off, and holding up the knuckle-bone in the air began to moan aloud most piteously. The dog did likewise in the eagerness of his desire, while the donkey (who was weary of being tied to the cart and thus prevented from getting at the thistles) set up, in his turn, a most piercing bray.

"What's the matter now, Jan?" the man inquired of his donkey.

"Nothing," said Ulenspiegel, answering for him, "except that he would fain make his breakfast off those thistles that grow there on either side of you, like the thistles that are carved on the rood-screen at Tessenderloo, below the figure of Our Lord. Nor would this dog here, I'm thinking, be any the less inclined to join his jaws together on the bone you have got there. But in the meanwhile I will give him a piece of this liver of mine."

The man looked up at Ulenspiegel, who straightway recognized him as none other than his friend Lamme Goedzak of Damme.

"Lamme," he cried, "you here? And what are you doing, eating and drinking and moaning? Has some soldier or other been so impertinent as to box your ears, or what's the matter? Tell me."

"Alas!" said Lamme, "my wife!"

And he would have emptied his bottle of wine there and then had not Ulenspiegel laid a hand on his arm and suggested that it were fairer that the drink should be given to him that had none. "Besides," he added, "to drink thus distractedly profits naught but one's kidneys."

"Well said," answered Lamme, handing his friend the bottle, "but will you drink, I wonder, to any better purpose?"

Ulenspiegel took the bottle, drank his fill, then handed it back again.

"Call me a Spaniard," he said, "if I've left enough to make a minnow drunk!"

Lamme inspected the bottle. Then, without ever ceasing to groan, he rummaged in his wallet and produced another bottle, and another piece of sausage which he cut up in slices and began to munch in the most melancholy fashion.

"Do you never stop eating, Lamme?" asked Ulenspiegel.

"Often, my son," he replied. "But now I am eating to drive away sad thoughts. Where are you, wife of mine?" And as he spoke, Lamme wiped away a tear. After which he cut himself ten slices of sausage.

"Lamme," said Ulenspiegel, "you should not eat so quickly, taking no thought at all for the poor pilgrim."

Lamme, who was still whimpering, gave four of the slices to Ulenspiegel, who ate them up immediately, and was much affected by their good flavour. But Lamme said, eating and crying all at the same time:

"O wife, O goodly wife of mine! How sweet she was, how beautiful she was! Light as a butterfly, nimble as the lightning, and with a voice like a skylark! For all that, she was overfond of fine clothes. Alas, but how well she looked in them! And surely, the flowers also, are they not fond of rich apparel? Oh, if you had seen her, my son--her little hands, so nimble to caress, such hands as you never could have suffered to come in contact with saucepan or frying-pan! And her complexion, which was clear as the day, would surely have been burnt by standing over the kitchen fire. And what eyes she had! Only to look at them was to be melted quite with tenderness. Alas, I have lost her! Go on eating, Tyl; it is good Ghent sausage."