Where now telling this I think I should of told all London from Will Kempe is starb, but I didn't because I didn't want theater peoples and Court gallants and rich merchants and even Hob and Dick groundlings to know he was starb, I wanted them to think he still was. And so I didn't give his motley at The Globe for Bob Arnim to wear playacting Fools for W.S., because Bob Arnim wasn't a Fool could dance and playact comic jigs, he was one just did vitz witty jests and philosophical talk, he couldn't make groundlings laugh and merry from his dancing like my Will did. And also because I didn't want London to know he was starb I didn't buy memorial rings with his hairs in them, which I didn't cut off like I said I would to Will.

        And why I kept his motley, which came from Dick Tarleton, and should of been to Bob Arnim by custom, was because it was all I had from my Will Kempe to have, except from some little monies left in now my purse, almost bupkus zilch nothing I had from monies, so I also thought this I could pawn if I ever needed, which I didn't then.

        He was my Will Kempe I loved, and loved me, and I still love him when I think from him. And when I think from him I weep from tsoris grief sadness, but I also remember him like he was, dancing, which can make me still gay and merry to remember, Will Kempe dancing, and from his gleeks I still laugh some.

        Which now I told it all, from how he starb, my Will Kempe.

An earlier version of this chapter was published in The Sewanee Review.