All at once Ulenspiegel climbed up like a monkey into the tree, and seated himself astride on the big branch, seven feet above the ground at the least. And then, when he had given himself a few strokes from his pilgrim's scourge, he began his sermon, while the soldiers and their gay girls sat round him in a circle. "It is written," he began, "that whosoever giveth to the poor, the same lendeth to God. Very well then, O soldiers present here to-day, and you, fair ladies, sweet comrades in love of all these valiant warriors, do you lend now to God. That is to say, give me, I beg you, some of your bread, meat, wine, beer, if you please, and eke your tartlets, and I promise you that God, who is very rich, shall give you back in exchange many pieces of ortolan, rivers of malmsey wine, mountains of sugar-candy, and great pieces of that lovely rystpap which they eat in Paradise from silver spoons." Then, changing to a more sorrowful tone, he continued: "Behold now, with what cruel tortures do I strive to merit pardon for my sins! Will you do nothing to assuage the smarting pain of this scourge by which my back is lacerated till the blood flows?" "Who is this madman?" cried the soldiers. "My friends," answered Ulenspiegel, "I am no madman but one that is repentant even to the point of starvation. For while my soul weeps for its sins, my stomach weeps for want of food. Good soldiers, and you, fair damosels, I see you well provided with ham and goose, with fat sausages and wine and beer and all manner of tartlets. Will you not give so much as a morsel to the wandering pilgrim?" "Yes, yes, we will," cried the Flemish soldiers, "for the preacher hath a merry countenance." And now they all began to throw him chunks of bread as though they had been balls, and Ulenspiegel did not cease from talking and from eating, astride as he was on the branch. "Hunger," he said, "makes a man hard of heart and little apt for prayer, yet a piece of ham removes that evil disposition in no time." "Look out for your head," shouted a sergeant as he threw him a bottle half full of wine. Ulenspiegel caught the bottle in mid-air, and began to drink in little gulps, talking all the while. "If hunger, sharp and raging, is bane to the poor body of a pilgrim, there is something else that is equally harmful to his soul; nothing less than his fear that the generosity of his soldier friends may lead him on to drunkenness. For as a general rule the pilgrim is a right sober fellow, but when, as now, one soldier gives him a slice of ham, and another a bottle of beer, he is mightily afraid lest by drinking thus upon an empty, or nearly empty, stomach he may lose his head." And even as he spoke, he caught hold of the leg of a goose that came whizzing to him through the air.