Volume I Part 28 (1/2)
”They told me, too,” said Ulenspiegel, ”that he swore like a trooper: Al dispetto di Dio, potta di Dio; one day when at supper he did not find a cold peac.o.c.k he had had kept for himself, saying, 'I, the Vicar of G.o.d, may very well swear over a peac.o.c.k since my master lost his temper for an apple!' You see, my dear, that I know the Pope and what he is.”
”Alas!” said she, ”but don't speak of it to other people. And in any case you will never see him.”
”I shall speak with him,” said Ulenspiegel.
”If you do, I give you a hundred florins.”
”They are mine already,” said Ulenspiegel.
The next day, although he was leg-weary, he went about the town and discovered where the Pope would say ma.s.s that day, at St. John Lateran. Ulenspiegel went thither and stationed himself as near and as plain to the Pope as he could compa.s.s, and every time the Pope raised the chalice or the host, Ulenspiegel turned his back upon the altar.
Beside the Pope was a cardinal serving, brown of visage, cunning and portly, who, with an ape on his shoulder, gave the people the sacrament with many wanton gestures. He called the Pope's attention to Ulenspiegel, and as soon as the ma.s.s was completed, His Holiness sent four famous soldiers such as are known in these warlike lands, to seize the pilgrim.
”What is your belief?” the Pope asked him.
”Most Holy Father,” replied Ulenspiegel, ”I hold the same belief as my hostess.”
The Pope sent for the goodwife.
”What dost thou believe?” he said to her.
”What your Holiness believes,” she answered.
”And I the same,” said Ulenspiegel.
The Pope then asked him why he had turned his back on the Holy Sacrament.
”I felt myself unworthy to look upon it face to face,” replied Ulenspiegel.
”Thou art a pilgrim,” said the Pope.
”Yea,” said he, ”and from Flanders I come to beg the remission of my sins.”
The Pope gave him his blessing, and Ulenspiegel departed with the hostess, who told him out one hundred florins. Thus ballasted he left Rome to return thence to the land of Flanders.
But he must needs pay seven ducats for his pardon inscribed on parchment.
LIV
In these days there came two Premonstratensian friars to Damme with indulgences for sale. They were attired, over their monkish array, in a fine s.h.i.+rt trimmed with lace.
Posting themselves at the church door when it was fair weather, and under the porch when it was foul and rainy, they put up their tariff, in which they marked down for six liards, for a patard, a half livre of Paris, for seven, for twelve florins carolus, a hundred, two hundred, four hundred years of indulgence, and according to the price, demiplenary or full plenary, and forgiveness for the most heinous crimes, even that of desiring to violate Madame the Virgin. But that one cost seventeen florins.
They delivered to buyers who paid them certain little bits of parchment on which was written the number of years of indulgence. Above was found this inscription:
He that would not be Stewed, roast, or fried A thousand years in purgatory Still in h.e.l.l burning, Let him buy indulgence, Grace and compa.s.sion, For a little silver, G.o.d will repay him.