Something about being on stage went straight to Much's head.
Okay, sure, the drink had gone straight to his head, too.
Maybe having a thousand bucks and a weird silver bottle in his pockets had gone to his head too.
And that golden arrow.
Or maybe it was the purple-eyes God or dagger-eyed Leila or baby-mouth Will, Much didn't know. He honestly wasn't thinking more than a minute into the future and was having trouble thinking more than a minute into the past.
And then everyone was looking at him as he stood on the stage and it was very exciting.
"GOOD GENTLES ALL!" he shouted, some part of his brain snapping right back to the fourteenth century. "Let me sing for you now - a song!"
Both his hands were in the air, and for a second, he was silent, because he had absolutely not prepared a song. Especially a seductive song.
Shit. Right! Nothing for it: Much took a breath, and dived right in. He had a pretty good voice - you didn't sing around a campfire for hundreds of years without learning how to carry a tune, but mostly Much had an enthusiastic voice, one that encouraged people to sing along with the chorus.
"A lusty young smith at his vise stood a-filing, His hammer laid by but his forge still aglow, When to him a buxom young damsel came smiling And asked if to work at her forge he would go. With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, hi ho! “I will,” said the smith, and they went off together, Along to the young damsel's forge they did go. They stripped to go to it, 'twas hot work and hot weather; She kindled a fire and she soon made him glow. With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, hi ho! Her husband, she said, no good work could afford her; His strength and his tools were worn out long ago. The smith said, “Well mine are in very good order, And now I am ready my skill for to show.” With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, hi ho! Red hot grew his iron, as both did desire, And he was too wise not to strike while 'twas so. Quoth she, “What I get, I get out of the fire, Then prithee, strike hard and redouble the blow.” With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, hi ho! Six times did his iron by vigorous heating, Frow soft in her forge in a minute or so, And as often was hardened, still beating and beating, But each time it softened, it hardened more slow. With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, hi ho! The smith then would go; quoth the dame, full of sorrow, “Oh, what would I give could my husband do so! Good lad, with your hammer come hither tomorrow, But, pray, can't you use it once more ere you go?” With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, With a jingle bang, jingle bang, jingle, hi ho!"