Ye Olde Cellar Inn
 

Come, friends and travelling companions, our long day's journey is nearly done, yonder humble hamlet will surely see us sup and lodge for the ebon night. Let us tarry not!

......

Sooth, yon inn looks a right merry place! 'Tis a great stone pile, many a narrow window aglow with firelight. Draw close, hark at the din of the public room! Ha! Methinks some therein are the worse for drink. Even now, the ostler comes for our horses.

Come now, friends, the great oaken door opens for us. Let us take shelter for the night here, but I pray you, speak not as outlanders do, but harken to the tongues of the villagers.

Let us enter....

Verily, good man, might I bum a smoke?

Tha maun well be aksing - this 'ere companion of mine bears a goodly pouch of 'baccy at a' times.

;)

What (s)he said.

I'm leaving this thread. I suck at it. Anon, or something.

Oi! Wench, dunno be shy.

*shrugs in a very olde style*

I dinna ken.

It does my heart good to see you my friends!
Gather by the fire, sup, drink! It's a long night and we need some comfort against the dark.

I'll stand a round if any are embarrassed in the purse - Dame Fortune has smiled on me this week and a night passed in friendship cannot be measured against base coin. I'm no miser to eat the parings of the cheese when there are fresh rinds to cut!

Someone might want to stand the door though.
I hear there are canny folk abroad in these parts.
We want no burr to rankle the security of our soft companionship.

Hey, barmaid! Mead all round!

Huzzah! Dinner! We sup!

Shaw, merry, Zen and Scri -
You all have musty victuals, and will hath holp to eat it:
shaw is a very valiant trencherwoman; she hath an
excellent stomach.

ok, I'm stayin'!

:)

Here's to ye all - and let the musicians strike up a merry tune! <tosses sixpence>

Why, that looks to be a hoodie from days of yore.

D'ya mind passing the pig's 'ead? - Much obliged, thank 'ee.

Happen I have a very lusty appetite.
Pass the ashet and bid the landlord to keep the meat coming - wit and sausage can pass my lips with equal facility.

Merry, a big sausage it is, too! From a fiendish swine, no doubt. And as fiendish swine it is I speak, wherefore is our own Robbing Hood?

Aye: but if a Hood's fer the robbing what, pray, shouldst do with a little John?

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.