Without another word Ulenspiegel went and got a feed of oats, and
returning, offered them to the donkey. But while he was eating of those
viands Ulenspiegel jumped nimbly upon his back, and taking the reins,
turned him first to the north, then to the east, and lastly to the
west. Then, when he had gone from them a little way, he raised his
hand as if in blessing on those aged dames. But they, almost fainting
with fear, fell upon their knees before him. And that evening when
they met together again, the tale was told of how an angel with a
felt hat trimmed with a pheasant's feather had come and blessed them,
and had taken off the magician's donkey by special favour of God.
And Ulenspiegel, astride of his ass, went his way through the green
fields, where the horse pranced about at liberty, where the cows and
heifers grazed at their ease or lay resting in the sunshine. And he
called the ass Jef.
At last Jef came to a stop, and began, as happy as could be, to
make his dinner off the thistles which grew in that place in great
abundance. But anon he shivered all over, and flicked his sides with
his tail in the hope of ridding himself of the greedy horse-flies who,
like himself, were trying to get their dinner, not off the thistles,
but off his own flesh.
Ulenspiegel, who himself began to feel the pangs of hunger, grew
very melancholy.
"Happy indeed would you be, friend donkey, with your good dinner of
fine thistles if there was no one to disturb you in your pleasures,
and to remind you that you also are mortal, born, that is to say,
to the endurance of all kinds of villainies."
Thus did Ulenspiegel address his steed, and thus continued:
"For even as you have this gadfly of yours to worry you, so also
hath His Holiness the Pope a gadfly of his own, even master Martin
Luther; and His Sacred Majesty the Emperor, hath he not my Lord of
France for his tormentor--Francis, first of that name, the King with
the very long nose and a sword that is longer still? And forsooth,
donkey mine, it is certainly permitted that I also, poor little man
wandering all alone, may have my gadfly too.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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