Twice more, the life-loving English ecclesiastic repeated that witty ballad with all the suave persuasiveness of his mellow baritone, a voice with which he might have well made his fortune had he chosen that pursuit. And finally the time slipped by till the chiming of the old clock downstairs indicated that the hour had come for Emily's coming, at which time he slowly rose and silently made his way out of his room.
As he entered the hallway, I heard muffled voices coming from the top of the stairway, and Father Lawrence muttered some sort of impatient imprecation which had to do with consigning all doubting Thomases to the boiling cauldrons consigned to the nethermost recesses of the inferno to which all unregenerate sinners go, and concealed himself against a slight curving of the wall. Sharpening my auditory senses, I could just make out a dialogue which began with a man's querulous voice: “Come, Emily my saucy baggage, you will not deny your master?”
To which followed a plaintively murmured: “Oh, never would I do that, worthy sir, for you hold my indenture, yet I would beseech you to show compassion on my fatigue and weariness, for with the coming of your four new guests, I have sorely taxed my strength and want nothing so much now as benevolent sleep, that I may be fresh and eager for the tasks you set me on the morrow.”
I heard a wordless grumble, doubtless of disappointment, and then the grudging, gruff: “Ah, well, I am not one to force a wench though I hold her indenture to my bosom. Get you then to bed alone, Emily, and mind you wake before dawn, for we must provide a sumptuous breakfast to our travelers before they set out for wicked London.”
And then, “Oh, yes, that I will with right good heart, master. Thank you for your compassion, which a poor, honest girl is rarely to find this side of heaven.”
To this, in a suspicious tone: “Why, look you, Emily, I would not have you confuse my good nature with the sanctimonious platitudes spouted by men who wear black cloth and gloomy faces and tell their beads, or next you will be demanding that I give you Sunday mornings off to go hear sermons that will depress you. So bed you down and think only of your indulgent master, who has not taken cane or strap to your plump backside in longer than is rightly good for a bound servant. Good night!”
“And to you too, good master, a most good night!”
“Aye, that would it be if you would be less fatigued – but look you, Emily, you may rest at the same time, for I am not an importunate man and can fuck a wench while she reclines comfortably 'pon her back without so much as moving. An' if you would but let me try, I would not fault you if I should discover you had gone off fast to sleep while I was completing my pleasure.” This last, hopefully.
A giggle then ere this insinuating flattery which sent the ravening wolf from the door of this sweet fearful lamb: “Oh, master, would that it were so, and I would gladly bid you enter. But you know well, sir, that each time you have engaged my little slit with your monstrous big prick, I have been urged to forsake passive and docile submission to its inroads, for its thickness and length scrape and pierce me so vitally that I must respond or else faint dead away. And I fear me sorely that wearied as I am at this moment, I would do you great disservice by not responding.”
A longdrawn sigh of thwarted desire ensued, after which good Thomas glumly announced, “No, 'tis true, I would not fuck a wench who did not clamp legs and arms about me and bite and scratch like a vixen taken in a trap, since fucking is more than meat to meat, it is substance and sustenance and combat and sweet conclave all in one. Therefore get you to bed quickly ere I repent my good nature which holds me back from ripping off your shift and entering that timid little crevice of yours whether you will allow me or not. For it is in my nature once I fuck, that I demand my receptive partner to announce with all loud exclamations of joy and frantic movements of her bottom and loins that she is blessed among wenches to feel so mighty a cunt-chafer inside of her, for to receive me otherwise would be to insult my manhood.”
“And that I would never do, were it to cost me hope of your destroying my indenture, good master,” the pert Emily at once gracefully retorted.
“Well then – since it is thus and is unchangeable by the very nature of my good nature – good night to you, fair Emily.” Would he stand there all night long wanting to stand a somewhat more pressing way, saying his sorely disappointed good nights? “Again, good night, good master.” And this time Emily gently closed her door. “Odds bodkins! I know not why I am so indulgent to that teasing slut,” I heard the landlord grumble as he descended the stairs, which creaked beneath his weight enough to impress me into believing that his horizontal weight upon sweet Emily would have produced as loud a creaking of the bed which hymned their carnal conclave.
Father Lawrence waited a long moment till the inn was silent, and then he made his way slowly to Emily's door and tapped gently. Instantly it opened, and I heard her gasp, “Oh, quickly, Your R-Reverence, before my master hears.”
“He is gone downstairs back to his bed by now, my daughter.”
“Ohh, th-then you heard him just now?”
“Every word, my daughter. But if you are too fatigued, I will not keep you up a moment longer.”
“I am fatigued of him, to tell the truth, Y-Your Reverence.”
“Oh? How so?”
“He is at me like a bull even when I am not of a mind to play the heifer to his bellowings, Y-Your Reverence. And because I am under indenture to him, I know I must serve his will, yet that takes all the pleasure from it. It is as if I were his chattel, and there is no humor in so obliging him. For, Your Reverence, even a bound girl sometimes pines to be courted, to have the say as to whether she will yield or not, without having to fear a beating – though in all justice, he is merciful in that direction.”
“I hold with your views, my dear child, for I do not countenance slavery of any kind. And, aye, I know your master well these thirty years, since we were striplings together; he has a good heart, that will I readily say of him. But does he not service you ably when you are of a mind to let him have at you?”
“Oh, Y-Your Reverence, I dare not tell you!” Once again, that simpering giggle that expressed her titillated confusion. But she stood very close to my jailer, for, though her words were muffled – perhaps because her face was reposing against his manly chest – I heard them plainly.
“When is your indenture up, my sweet child?”
“When I shall be twenty-one, Y-Your Reverence.”
“I will see that you come to no harm till then, my daughter. I will exhort him to find you a good husband when your time is served, and to settle on you a dowry of the wages you have earned all this while, for that is the law as to indenture.”
“Oh, Your-Your W-Worship!” she breathed gratefully.
His voice was hoarser now than it had been: “Not that titular appeal, my daughter, for I am not your judge, but your confidant. And thus in confidence and speaking confidentially which is the pursuance of my role this night, I say again that you are truly as fair as the daughters of Jericho who gave their warriors strength to stand against the battlements and fight valorously for the Lord.”
“You – you turn my head, Y-Your Reverence!”
“Nay now, Emily, I would have you turn yours that I may gaze upon the shimmering, lustrous mantle of your lovely hair which swathes you nearly to your hips.
Ah were you fated like the good Dame Godiva to ride the streets on a palfrey thus to move the obdurate tyranny of a noble lord who would not remit his subjects' taxes, I warrant you might nearly shield all your most intimate person with such a soft silken cloak!”