Quadrivial Quandary:  Logophiles, Rejoice!  Each day we give you four unusual words.  Can you fit them all in one illustrative sentence?

Attempts to resolve the Quandary:


And in Drury Lane, in 1867, Sarah, or should we call her Sally, as she says her friends do? yes - Sally was having a heart-to-heart with Grace, her new maid - previously known as Lady Griselda of Longformacus before being beamed forward 700 years as a result of her own nosiness and folly in climbing through what had started off as a Moth-Hole in Tavish Dalwhinnie's cloak but had been turned into a full portal into the network of Worm-Holes which soar and swoop hither yon in the Space/Time continuum, much to The Creator's chagrin - and she described with lovingkindness the titular duties which the maid was ostensibly expected to carry out: "makin' me a cup o tea in the mornin' and assistin' me wiv my toilette," pronouncing it in the French form, but without disguising her Cockney accent, "and then doin' the 'ousework an' shoppin' an' runnin' errands an' such, but most important of all, an' the sole reason wot you 'ave bin put on this Earth for, young lady, is to study my example if you is a-goin' to become a successful gay gel, cos there's the right fings and there's the wrong 'uns, an' the right fings is doin' wot pleases a gentleman - if you are fortunate enough to land that business, for the only alternative is to marry a tradesman and 'ave fourteen or fifteen babies, work yer fingers ter the bone, sufferin' 'ousemaid's knee, arthur-eyties, romanticism, lumbago, plumbago, constipation, galloping consumption, not to mention white fever, red fever, black fever, measles, mumps, 'oopin' coff an' die at forty if yer lucky!" and Grace looked suitably shocked at the prospect of all that hyperbole and Sally warmed to her subject: "now, as it 'appens, you is in the very fortunate position of 'aving popped out o' that cupboard an' into my lap, just at the perfick time - perfick fer you, Gracie, and perfick fer me! perfick fer me in that I 'ad just 'ad ter let me most recent maid go, due ter a. err, conflict o' interests which don't concern you," at which Grace asked, "why not?" and Sally looked askance at her, unsure whether this was impertinence or actually pertinent to the education which was being so freely imparted and, deciding the latter, said: "very well, let me demonstrate by example; you, Gracie, is a Virgin - do yer know wot that is?" and Gracie nodded: "like the Virgin Mary, Our Lady, chosen by God to be the Mother of his only Son, our Lord, Jesus Christ," and stopped; and there was silence, as Sally wondered how to get back on track, for her own religious knowledge was scant and could be written on the back of a postage stamp: The Lord's Prayer, the Parable of the Good Samaritan, the Last Supper and the Hell-Fire and Damnation awaiting Sinners like her own mother, women who got themselves in The Famly Way through their own wickedness - no mention of the men necessary for their condition; "well a virgin is a girl or woman wot's not been fucked, an' a virgin is wot a lot of men want more than anything else, are prepared to pay handsomely for, but you can only be a virgin once an' efter, no-one will pay as much as for that first time, so yer don't give it to any Tom, Dick or Harry - unless yer a fool an' I'm not gonna let yer be a fool - my friend, Sir Peveril MacFarlane, is a real gentleman, a nobleman, an' 'e's seen yer an' my name isn't Sarah Siddons if 'e 'hasn’t taken a fancy ter yer; 'is valet, Dirk Doubleday is a brute, a noxymoron if yer ask me, a 'gentleman's gentleman'? more like a fuckin' gentleman's shit-shoveller! an' anyway, yer too old fer 'im, 'is preference is fer gels younger than yer is, an' they'se ten a penny, yer can see them on every street corner, they'll let a coster or a butcher's boy fuck 'em for nowt, but a gentleman like Sir Peveril, once 'e's 'ad a look an satisfies 'isself that yer a genuine virgin, 'e'll pay twenty sovereigns for the privilege, no questions asked, no 'agglin', cash down, money in the bank; Gracie, are you listening?" and Gracie gave a start, like someone coming out of a trance; "oh, I'm so sorry Sally, I don't know what happened, it felt like an orphic dream involving a taghairm with sheep's entrails, and dancing widdershins aroon the big pot:

Round about the cauldron go;

In the poison’d entrails throw.

Toad, that under cold stone

Days and nights hast thirty one

Swelter’d venom sleeping got,

Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot,

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and cauldron bubble,


Fillet of a fenny snake,

In the cauldron boil and bake;

Eye of newt, and toe of frog,

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,

Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,

Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble,

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and cauldron bubble,

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,

Witches’ mummy, maw and gulf

Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,

Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,

Liver of blaspheming Jew,

Gall of goat, and slips of yew

Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,

Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,

Finger of birth-strangled babe

Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,

Make the gruel thick and slab:

Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,

For the ingredients of our cauldron,

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and cauldron bubble,

and the mensch starin in awe an wonderment!" and Sally laughed: "I've 'eard that afore, it's from that play, MacHeath, ain't it, The Beggar's Opera, oh, that was a grand show, listen, we'll get ourselves dolled up tonight and I'll take ye ter the Theatre, that'll give yer a lift, get rid o yer dreams, we'll get ourselves some gin an' maybe I'll pick up a friend and show yer how the business is done, Darlin', that's wot we'll do tonight!"

(by MissTeriWoman)
The Quandary for Monday, April 10, 2017 consisted of: Challenge: use all four words together in one illustrative sentence.

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