Dirty Talk 18th Century Style

Ever wondered what the charm of those 18th century balls was? Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller give the answer in the first season of their Armstrong and Miller Show; the quadrille. In a series of skits they perform a number of exchanges while dancing and the discourse reflects the joyous situation. I am proud to present all the lecherous meetings of mind (and body) from the first series of Filthy Quadrilles.

The Quadrille

Wench: You're not moving quite so freely as is your wont, Mr. Gosling. You're usually such a wonderful dancer.
Rake: Unfortunately, Miss Cardew, I am negotiating an obstruction in my breeches with the same tough, knotty and veined aspect as a Portuguese sailor's arm.

Rake: You dance impeccably, Miss Harwood. You've truly awoken the devil in my imaginings.
Wench: And you, Captain Jennings, have stirred something in the region girded by my most intimate undergarments.
Rake: Indeed, madam? And I believe that it will interest you to know that under the restrictions of my pantaloons there is a protrusion so monstrously tumescent that were you to avail yourself of it, I can guarantee your horse would see no action for a week.


Rake: With your hair so prettily coiffed, Miss Harwood, you resemble nothing so much as the most charming French poodle.

Wench: I'm flattered, Mr. Gosling.

Rake: Which leads me to enquire whether at a later stage this evening, I might be permitted to attend to you on all fours with all the bestial vigours of one of my father's prize mastiffs.

Wench: Woof, woof!

Rake: Precisely.

Cover of Season 1
(from BBC's web shop)


Rake: Not too fatigued by this evening's exertions, Miss Cardew?

Wench: Why, no, Captain Jennings. I could go on for hours.

Rake: Then might I suggest that you join me later for some modest theatricals?

Wench: Gladly! And which roles would we be playing?

Rake: I would play the part of a wealthy industrialist, whilst you, Miss Cardew, would play a Whitechapel strumpet of such eye-wateringly low virtue that you would leave me as dry as a ship's biscuit.

Alexander Armstrong

Rake: Ah, Miss Cardew! You and your friend Miss Harwood look ravishing tonight.

Wench: Then perhaps you would like to accompany us back to Duxford Hall, where she and I would be most happy to disport ourselves gaily before you on the floor of the parlour.

Rake: And would I be confined to observing these antics, or might I be permitted to participate at some opportune juncture?

Wench: Participate? Oh, Mr. Gosling, I can promise you that you will see more action than the Duke of Wellington's musket.



Rake: Miss Harwood, you look ravishing, though I cannot help to conject that your exquisite gown would look even more becoming strewn on the floor of my bedchamber.

Wench: And a man as exquisitely fashioned as you, Captain Jennings, would look even more becoming on, beneath, behind and, for my own benefit, several inches within me.

Ben Miller
(img.poptower.com)

Wench: Captain Jenning, I am looking forwards to succumbing to your roving hands this evening.
Rake: And it is with the utmost anticipation that I am looking forward to flinging you upon my divan and plundering your most intimate undergarments.
Wench: I'm sorry to disappoint you, Captain Jennings, but in a quite unforgivable display of amnesia, I appear to have left them in my bedchamber.

Rake: Ah, Miss Cardew. I was hoping to have the pleasure of interviewing you this evening.
Wench: Oh, Mr. Gosling, I'm afraid I've rather rashly agreed to receieve Captain Jennings this evening.
Rake: Captain Jennings? But why?
Wench: Because, Mr. Gosling, according to Lady Derbyshire, he is endowed with a sword as elegantly formed as it is epically proportioned and which will leave me walking like an orphan with rickets.

The best part is that according to research, this is probably the way things went down.

The series can be bought at any sensibly industrious vendor.