Peasant, dig a grave with all speed; take off his clothes before burying him.”
“No,” said Nele, rising; “they shall not be taken off, he would be cold in the earth.”
“Dig the grave,” said the priest to the peasant who was carrying the spade.
“So be it,” said Nele, weeping; “there are no worms in the sand and lime, and my beloved will remain fair and whole.”
And bending over Ulenspiegel’s body, she kissed him distractedly with sobs and tears.
The burgomaster, the sheriffs and the peasants were touched, but the priest ceased not to exclaim joyfully:
“The great ‘Beggar’ is dead, praise be to God!”
Then the peasant dug the grave, laid Ulenspiegel in it and covered him with sand.
And the priest said the prayers for the dead over the grave; all knelt round it; suddenly there was a great movement under the sand, and Ulenspiegel, sneezing and shaking the sand from his hair, seized the priest by the throat.
“Inquisitor!” he cried, “you were burying me alive in my sleep! Where is Nele? Have you buried her too?
Who are you?”
The priest cried aloud:
“The great ‘Beggar’ has come back to life! Lord God, receive my soul!” And he ran like a stag before the hounds.
Nele came to Ulenspiegel:
“Kiss me, beloved,” he said.
Then he looked round him again. The two peasants had fled like the priest, throwing spade, chair, and parasol on the ground to run the better; the burgomaster and the sheriffs, stopping their ears in terror, lay groaning upon the grass.
