3. Ponjarderen
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1678
Poinjarderen
Yep, you remember him. Jan Amans de Lauwere was at odds with the bailiff six years ago and almost shot him over the head. But Jan scaled up: he now quarreled with the commander. Baron Ambrosius de Virmundt, full of noble indignation, says he came out of the castle yesterday to go for a walk in the field, accompanied by a servant. In the Cappelaensche alley he ran into De Lauwere who, taking off his hat, asked His Highness why he was not granted an audience two days ago to complain about the misfortune that had befallen him.
      ‛Because thou wast drunk.'
Still, Jan began to recount the insulting abusive swear words that a certain woman Verhoeven had hurled at his head under great public attention.
But the commander cut the story short.
  …
1678
Poinjarderen
Yep, you remember him. Jan Amans de Lauwere was at odds with the bailiff six years ago and almost shot him over the head. But Jan scaled up: he now quarreled with the commander. Baron Ambrosius de Virmundt, full of noble indignation, says he came out of the castle yesterday to go for a walk in the field, accompanied by a servant. In the Cappelaensche alley he ran into De Lauwere who, taking off his hat, asked His Highness why he was not granted an audience two days ago to complain about the misfortune that had befallen him.
      ‛Because thou wast drunk.'
Still, Jan began to recount the insulting abusive swear words that a certain woman Verhoeven had hurled at his head under great public attention.
But the commander cut the story short.
      ‛Even if you were the greatest right in the world, you should not discuss it with me publicly.'
Jan wanted to bring up the fact that he would have done just that in that requested audience, without the presence of the now influx of curious people. But his gram mind prevented a calm, considered argument. Before he knew it, it was out:
      ‛I am as honest as anyone, yes, as His Highness himself.'
Oy, oy, oy, Jan anyway. You forget that you are just a country bumpkin. Look at the year above this story. We are in the midst of the class society. You put yourself on the same level as His Honour. We hear you say it and yet it is unheard of!
Baron De Virmundt raised his stick.
      ‛Yes, but only to threaten to beat quansuis with it.'
Jan had not realised that ‛quansuis', that so-called.
      ‛Don't hit me, or I'll poinjar you.'
Potbelly Jan, we take back that of the peasant lout. Poinjarderen! We would have simply said we intended to pierce the baron.
Whereupon the Highness turned to his servant and asked for his musket, to defend himself with it against the insults -yes, from a noble lord commander you may expect such words- inflicted on him on the public road.
Jan de Lauwere's son emerged from the crowd. He took his father by the hand and led him away from this unpleasant situation. Whether Jan can also be led away from the consequences of his dignified threat, we will just have to wait and see.