XXII
That day aboard the fleet there was a feast. In spite of the sharp December wind, despite the rain, despite the snow, all the Beggars of the fleet were on the decks of the ships. The silver crescents gleamed lurid upon the bonnets of Zealand.
And Ulenspiegel sang:
“Leyden is delivered: the bloody duke leaves the Low Countries:
Ring out, ye bells reëchoing: Chimes, fling your songs into the air: Clink, ye glasses and bottles, clink.
“When the mastiff slinks away from blows,
His tail between his legs,
With bloodshot eye
He turns upon the cudgels.
“And his torn jaw
Shivers and pants
He has gone, the bloody duke;
Clink bottle and glass. Long live the Beggar!
“Fain would he bite himself,
The cudgels broke his teeth.
Hanging his puff-jowled head
He thinks of the days of murder and lust.
He is gone, the bloody duke:
Then beat upon the drum of glory,
Then beat upon the drum of war!
Long live the Beggar!
“He cries to the devil: ‘I will sell thee
My doggish soul for one hour of might.’
‘Thy soul it is no more to me,’
Said the devil, ‘than a herring is.’
The teeth meet no longer now.
They must avoid hard morsels.
He hath gone, the bloody duke:
Long live the Beggar!
“The little street dogs, crooklegged, one-eyed, full of mange,
That live or die on rubbish heaps.
Heave up their leg one by one
On him that killed for love of slaughter.—
Long live the Beggar.
“He loved not women, nor friends,
Nor gayness, nor sun, nor his master,
Nothing but Death, his betrothed,
Who broke his legs
As prelude to the betrothal,
For she loves not men hale and whole;
Beat upon the drum of joy,
Long live the Beggar!
“And the little street dogs, crooklegged,
Limping, one-eyed, full of mange,
Heave their leg up once again
In a hot and salty fashion.
And with them greyhounds and mastiffs,
Dogs of Hungary, of Brabant,
Of Namur and Luxembourg,
Long live the Beggar!
“And, miserably, with foaming mouth,
He goes to die beside his master,
Who fetches him a sounding kick,
“In hell he weddeth Death.
She calleth him ‘My Duke’;
He calleth her ‘My Inquisition.’
Long live the Beggar!
“Ring out ye bells reëchoing:
Chimes, fling your songs into the air;
Clink, glasses and bottles, clink:
Long live the Beggar!”