Gherwina wrinkles her nose, and looks accusingly at her kinswoman. Soon, however, she realizes that the odor assaulting her is coming from a different source entirely.

“Anda, my wuv! I’ve found you at wast!”

A brawny figure appears at the table, hauling Anda into his arms. He attempts to lay a big wet one on her lips, which are frozen into a gods-awful grimace.

“Aw! Don’t they make a cute couple?” coos Gherwina, - a bit misty-eyed - to Amala who is passing by.

Amala looks the Roman over. “Hmmm. A bit scrawny. Couldn’t be more than 14 stone. He needs some of our beer to fill him out and curl the hair on his chest.”

“Ooooh… beer!” Gherwina’s eyes light up. “I wouldn’t mind some of that myself…”

“Wina!” Anda’s arms are keeping the amorous male from getting too close, but they are unable to protect her from the ripe aromas emitting from his person. “Do something!” A glazed expression covers her face. “I’m... getting... woozy...”

Gherwina sighs then gets to her feet. “Ahem! Hocky?” She snaps her fingers to get his attention. “Didn’t you spend all the many miles from Rome composing an ode to your beloved?”

“Duh… ode? Oh yeah…” He releases a wheezing Anda. She weakly removes her shoe and breathes deeply from it – clearing her senses once more. Hockimus stands in deep thought for a minute. His eyes cross several times from the strain. “Aha! I wemember now! Anda, this is just for you, my honeybunny.

When I gwabbed hold of your pwitty things
From my jaw two teeth were smacked
But I don’t bear any hard feewings
Because - oh boy - you’re weally stacked!”

In the distance, a cow’s mooing is heard over the sudden silence.