#feastposting

Fair lady! Little do I care for such articles as thee, most especially of the pious sort- What, am I to wear such burdensome folds and rumples upon this form, ere I should stumble i'my step and send 'em flying o'er my head?

I'faith, is my lady well? Thou'rt red as a summer fruit!

Prithee, fair knights, assist your fine lady~ Marry, I dare not touch her silk-soft skin aright! T'would be scandalous, for one such as I, to caress such flower-petal softness; to run fine finger o'er lips... and to touch the heart, which rises, red-tinged, to the surface when one doth but care to look...

But no such things for me, nay, none! For thy jester, my lady, little matters but th'feel o'thy meal, thy generous word within my breast, the warmth of thy fire... and the heat of thy gaze...

Ahem!

Marry, Lord, thy legs do look fine in thy boots! Didst thou acquire them by the bog? Some witch did not grant thee thy calves? No? A surprise to be sure, good sir!

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The lady? Why, she is the fairest in all the lands and all the seas! What could the walls of Troy do but fall before her many admirers, i'months - nay, weeks, perhaps!