But Tyl put his head out of a hole in the hood: "Nele, don't you know me?" he said. And Nele, for it was none other than she herself, was filled with fear, crying and laughing all at the same time, and her cheeks were wet as she answered him: "I see you, and I know you, you wretch, you traitor!" "Nele," said Ulenspiegel, "if you want to give me a beating, you will find a stick in the cart here. It is heavy enough in all conscience, and knotted so that it will leave its mark right enough." "Tyl," said Nele, "are you seeking the Seven?" "Even so," Tyl told her. Now Nele carried with her a bag, or satchel, that was so full it seemed likely to burst. This satchel she offered to Tyl, saying: "I thought it was unwholesome, Tyl, that a man should go on a journey without a good fat goose, and a ham, and some Ghent sausages. So take them, and when you eat of them think of me." While Ulenspiegel stood gazing at Nele, quite oblivious of the satchel which she was holding out to him, Lamme poked out his head from another hole in the hood, and began to address the girl in his turn. "O girl most wise," he said, "O girl most prudent, if he refuses such a gift it must be from pure absence of mind. But you had much better give into my own keeping that goose of yours, that ham, and those fine sausages. I will take care of them, I promise you!" "And who," asked Nele of her lover, "who may this red-face be?" "A victim of the married state," Tyl told her, "that is wasting away with sorrow, and would soon, in fact, shrink away to nothing, like an overbaked apple, were it not that he recuperated his strength from time to time and all the time by taking nourishment." "Alas, my son," sighed Lamme, "what you say is only too true." Now it was very hot, and Nele had covered her head with her apron because of the sun. Ulenspiegel looked upon her, and conceived a sudden desire to be alone with her. He turned to Lamme, and pointed to a woman that was walking some way off in a field. "Do you see that woman?" he said. "I see her," said Lamme. "Do you recognize her?" "Heavens!" cried Lamme, "can it be my wife? In truth she is dressed like no common country wench!" "Can you still be doubtful, you old mole?" "But supposing it were not her after all?" said Lamme. "You would be none the worse off," Ulenspiegel told him, "for over there to the left, towards the north, I know a tavern that sells most excellent bruinbier. We will join you there, and here meanwhile is some salt ham that will provide an excellent relish to your thirst." So Lamme got down from the cart, and made off as fast as his legs would carry him in the direction of the woman in the field. Ulenspiegel said to Nele: "Why will you not come near me?" Then he helped her to climb up beside him on to the cart, and made her sit close by his side. He removed her apron from her head and the cloak from her shoulders, and then when he had kissed her a hundred times at least, he asked her: