And all the spirits fell to chanting in unison:
"In death and blood, In ruin and tears Find the Seven.
"Wait, hear and see! Say, wretch, art thou not glad? Find the Seven."
"But," said Ulenspiegel, "Highness, and ye, spirits, I understand not your talk. Ye make a mock of me, sans doubt."
"When the North Shall kiss the West Ruin shall end; Find thou the Seven The Girdle find!"
And that with so tremendous a chorus and so terrifically loud, strong, and sonorous that the earth trembled and the heavens shivered. And the birds whistling, the owls bubbling, the sparrows twittering in affright, the sea eagles complaining, all flew round aghast. And the beasts of the earth, lions, serpents, bears, stags, bucks, wolves, dogs, and cats roared, hissed, belled, howled, barked, and mewed terribly.
"Wait, hear and see, Love thou the Seven The Girdle love."
And the cocks crowed, and all the spirits vanished save one malicious emperor of mines who seizing Ulenspiegel and Nele each by an arm, hurled them brutally out into the void.
They found themselves lying beside each other, as though for sleep, and they shivered in the keen wind of the morning.
And Ulenspiegel saw the delicious body of Nele all gilded in the sun that was then rising.
On that morning, which was in September, Ulenspiegel took his stick, three florins that Katheline gave him, a piece of pig's liver, and a slice of bread, and set out from Damme, going in the direction of Antwerp, seeking the Seven. Nele was sleeping.
As he journeyed, he was followed by a dog that came sniffing about him because of the liver, and leaped up on his legs. Ulenspiegel would have driven him away, and seeing that the dog was determined to follow him, addressed this discourse to him:
"Doggie, my dear, thou art but ill advised to leave the home where good messes await thee, delicious scraps, and bones full of marrow, to follow upon the road of adventure a vagabond fellow who mayhap will not always have even roots to give thee for thy food. Be guided by me, dog of no prudence, and go back to thine own baes. Avoid the rains, snows, hails, drizzles, mists, hoarfrosts, and other lean fare that fall upon the wanderer's back. Stay in the corner of the hearth, keeping thyself snug and warm, rolled up into a ball before the gay fire; leave me to walk in the mud, the dust, the cold, and the heat, roasted to-day, to-morrow frozen, feasted on Friday, famished on Sunday. Thou wilt do a sensible thing if thou dost return whence thou comest, dogling of small experience."