Quoth The Duchess Of Cleveland To Counselor Knight, "I'd Fain Have A Prick, Knew I How To Come By'T. I Desire You'll Be Secret And Give Your Advice: Though C*Nt Be Not Coy, Reputation Is Nice." "To Some Cellar In Sodom Your Grace Must Retire Where Porters With Black-Pots Sit Round A Coal Fire; There Open Your Case, And Your Grace Cannot Fail Of A Dozen Of Pricks For A Dozen Of Ale." "Is'T So?" Quoth The Duchess. "Aye, By God!" Quoth The Whore. "Then Give Me The Key That Unlocks The Back Door, For I'd Rather Be F*Cked By Porters And Carmen Than Thus Be Abused By Churchill And Jermyn."