“Hee haw! hee haw!” went the boatman. “Masters, donkeys, playing the donkey, come up on my boat.”
“Do as I do,” said Ulenspiegel in a low voice to Lamme.
And speaking to the boatman:
“If you are the Stercke Pier, I, I am Thyl Ulenspiegel. And these twain are our asses, Jef and Jan, who can bray better than you, for it is their native tongue. As for going up on your rickety planks, we have no mind to it. Your boat is like a tub; every time a wave strikes it it goes back, and it can only move like the crabs, sideways.”
“Aye, like the crabs!” said Lamme.
Then the boatman, speaking to Lamme:
“What are you muttering between your teeth, lump of bacon?”
Lamme, becoming furious, said:
“Evil Christian, who reproached me with my infirmity, know that my bacon is my own and comes from my good food; while thou, old rusty nail, thou livest but on old red herrings, candle wicks, skins of stockfish, to judge from thy scrawny beef that can be seen sticking through the holes in thy breeches.”
“They’ll be giving each other a stiff drubbing,” said the men, women, and artisans, delighted and full of curiosity.