“An' did ye diddle him, your Moor, Jane?” Will asked her.
To which she said, “And rightly so, for he paid me a shilling for not just the nonce, but the whole of a day and much of a night, an' this were but two or three years gone now.”
“Why then, Jane,” Will said, “he's no Ethiope, I was mistook, he's but a German from the seacoast of Boheme I think, who like any German loves his drink, yet loves a maid enough as well to pay her due 'pon demand for the passion paid him, Jane!”
“Who's this kurveh, Will?” I said again, and I said to him, “Why's she sitting close by me, Will?”
Which he didn't answer, only said, “She's called Mutton Jane, Pinky sweet, an' you see she's fatty mutton through to her core, yet not nice enough to sport a scrap of lace to make her seem the like of nice.” Which was a gleek vitz pun from lace-mutton, which English called whores, besides also jades. Which I didn't laugh from with Will, and also didn't this Mutton Jane, who I don't think understood such gleeks, which she would if she went to theaters, where also whores were, but she did only in Southwark stews like this Cardinal's Hat, and never crossed London Bridge.
She said, the same as Tom Tapster, “Say me, Master Pinky, if that be your true name as Will Kempe calls you, some small sweet talk in your tongue of Boheme, for I've n'er diddled a German, though I have a Spaniard, and two Italians came from Venice, a city there they told was builded on water, which must be a wonder, and that blackamoor I spoke afore, yet no German. An' I make no mention of Irish or Scots or wild Welshmen, but those too I know.”
“So say her but a taste of your German's tongue, Pinky,” Will said, “an' she'll give you a taste in return I warrant will stay sweet on you for a time if you've a taste for such meat as aged mutton!”
To which I said, to make a gleek, “shiksa kurveh,” and I said to Will, “We should maybe hire horses if they have in Southwark close by, Will, I don't think my legs and feet can walk still.”
To which Mutton Jane said, “An' what means that speech, which ain't pretty to my ear, were it good English?”
Which I said, “Means you're a nice maid,” which was my gleek for Will to laugh, which he did, because in my tongue from the lands of the Poles and Moscovies it means whore wasn't even a Jewess, which my Will knew, and laughed loud and clapped hands, and I even smiled. This Mutton Jane laughed, but I think only because nobody ever called her maid, and maybe laughed also because my tongue sounded merry to her, because not pretty to hear like her English she said, which I still think it is pretty to hear, my tongue.
So to tell what I almost did, and why not, which it would of been my worst shame. I can say I was fap was why, which partly is why, but also it was Mutton Jane showing her bosoms and leg and almost into her placket if she had one, which she didn't, and she was touching me where was my codpiece if I had one, which I didn't, just points tied so not to be indecent, and Will Kempe said not to worry from monies, from our carpet knight gallants it was a treat, all this carouse, and when I said I was too fap to go up a stairs to a crib, this Mutton Jane kurveh said she would help me to do. So I did.
I was and still years gone am just a mensch like any, but which I'm still, years gone, so shamed.
So this Mutton Jane jade wench, only a shift she wore so I could see almost all, and touching me indecent by my putz schlong so I got aroused to a passion hot like choler, helped me walk, fap cup-shot I was, shamed, still now to tell, through this door to a stairs up to her crib. When I started to go the stairs up, my Will made a last gleek from this.
He said, “Sweet Pinky, do you trod lightly 'til you attain the topmost, whereafter ye'll have strength still to tread heavily and heaving hot, an' you were like unto a barnyard cock!” And laughed, which we didn't, me and this Mutton Jane, me because I was too fap and afraid to fall going the stairs, Mutton Jane maybe because she didn't wot from this gleek vitz from barnyard cocks treading hens, I don't know.
Then we got in her crib, which it was only a closet with a trundle bed, one big candle only lighted was, I could see dirty schmutzig linens it had, and I was again afraid I should spew from fap I was, and this schmutz and some stink. But I sat on this trundle bed and closed shut my eyes and deep breaths I breathed so not to spew, which I listened Mutton Jane take off her shift, and I could also hear through the thin walls from shtupping dalliance and raucous coarse sallies and jibes from the other cribs near where was our carpet knight Essex men gallants also with kurveh sporting. Which also made me want to maybe spew.
And this Mutton Jane said to me, “An' will ye do as ye will, an' be there particulars ye fancy, stranger from the coast of Boheme?”
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