Verily, a little john needst a little wench for to serve him.

Anon we must needs cease to name her the Maid Marion, methinks.

Marion has made her bed, and may lay in it as she chuse!

Let us sit about and talk of Kings and sing bawdy songs until the dawn.
Have you heard the one about the sexton, the parson and the friar?
You know, the one which ends, "Been hunting rebbits again, sirs?"

Mulled wine!
And some of those new vegetable things from the New World!
A little of what you fancy fares you well, or so John told me ;)

I sing:

As Oyster Nan stood by her Tub,
To shew her vicious Inclination;
She gave her noblest Parts a Scrub,
And sigh'd for want of Copulation:
A Vintner of no little Fame,
Who excellent Red and White can sell ye,
Beheld the little dirty Dame,
As she stood scratching of her Belly.

Come in, says he, you silly Slut,
'Tis now a rare convenient Minute;
I'll lay the Itching of your Scut,
Except some greedy Devil be in it:
With that the Flat-capt Fusby smil'd,
And would have blush'd, but that she cou'd not;
Alass! says she, we're soon beguil'd,
By Men to do those things we shou'd not.

From Door they went behind the Bar,
As it's by common Fame reported;
And there upon a Turkey Chair,
Unseen the loving Couple sported;
But being call'd by Company,
As he was taking pains to please her;
I'm coming, coming Sir, says he,
My Dear, and so am I, says she, Sir.

Her Mole-hill Belly swell'd about,
Into a Mountain quickly after;
And when the pretty Mouse crept out,
The Creature caus'd a mighty Laughter:
And now she has learnt the pleasing Game,
Altho' much Pain and Shame it cost her;
She daily ventures at the same,
And shuts and opens like an Oyster.

Gadzooks, woman, surely thou shalt split my sides in guffaws! Thy tongue runs like a drunkard elf, wine besotted and deep in rut.


But Behold! and alarum! Who be this drunken oaf, this beery leery wretch that staggers nigh?

Sir! Cast not your lecherous eye upon these ladies. Thy unkempt locks, thy grease-spot skin, unwash'ed in flesh or garb; dare you not to sully with your foul stench the very air they breathe! Stand off, I say!

Cast your eyes on this lady I say!
Although I say lady, I doubt she deserves the name
Look on her, with one breast peeking out, and one nipple like a berry floating in cream!

Give her her due, she hitches up her robe and gives the semblance of a maiden... (all the better to charge as a whore!)

But hold - if she tells a tale, she may be worth more than the value of her traded skin.
Though there may be men yet in the company that would trade the story for... the company...
Draw close.
We're here all night - or longer, depends when the storm breaks. We'll listen to the slut to pass the time.