The Elder Scrolls has the best, hands down:

The Lusty Argonian Maid

Act I, Scene II: Tiber Septim’s Chambers…

Lifts-Her-Tail: Your Majesty, my deepest, deepest regrets.

Septim: Oh, nevermind dear cherib. (He hastily throws an evening robe on.) [A pause] Perhaps oh Flower, you may lend aid to the Empire. For days, I have consulted with mages, physicians, and courtesans, but alas, my sword cannot stand up and has the penetration power of a rotting, damp swamp reed.

Lifts-Her-Tail: Does thou speak of what I believe?! Should you not consult a smith?

Septim: No crucible is so purifying, no forge blazes so.

Lifts-Her-Tail: You flatter me! You are the Emperor of Tamriel, whilst I am a mere maid.

Septim: Ha! You are more than that! I can feel that familiar stir! Come! Bend your back to the task, melt me in your crucible, and bring down your blows!

Narrator: Some hours pbum, amid cries of “O Tiber!” and “You strike harder than the orc smiths!” dominate the stage.

Lifts-Her-Tail: [a deep breath]...Your sword is far more sharp [another breath] ... and penetrating than your brother, though your son is as a mounted Nord lancer!

END OF ACT I, SCENE II

Act IV, Scene III, continued

Lifts-Her-Tail: Certainly not, kind sir! I am here but to clean your chambers.

Crantius Colto: Is that all you have come here for, little one? My chambers?

Lifts-Her-Tail: I have no idea what it is you imply, master. I am but a poor Argonian maid.

Crantius Colto: So you are, my dumpling. And a good one at that. Such strong legs and shapely tail.

Lifts-Her-Tail: You embarrbum me, sir!

Crantius Colto: Fear not. You are safe here with me.

Lifts-Her-Tail: I must finish my cleaning, sir. The mistress will have my head if I do not!

Crantius Colto: Cleaning, eh? I have something for you. Here, polish my spear.

Lifts-Her-Tail: But it is huge! It could take me all night!

Crantius Colto: Plenty of time, my sweet. Plenty of time.

END OF ACT IV, SCENE III

Act V, Scene IV

The Solar of the Nevavarine’s Father

Narrator: An Old man, lonely and tired, sits by the warm fire, sipping on a quart of good ale. His name was Belisarius. His thoughts wander back to the days of prime, and to him, nothing pbumes faster than time. He remembers warring with the great houses of Morrowind and of fighting the occasional Nord incursion. If only he had a child to carry on his legacy.

Belisarius: Come here, good maid.

Lifts-Her-Tail: Yes master.

Belisarius: When did my kin bring you or your family to Morrowind?

Lifts-Her-Tail: I was sold to a Dunmer trader by the local chieftain. That elf wouldn’t take his eyes off me. I wish that I might have given him my body for my freedom. A scarf hid his face though. That was 20 years ago, before I arrived here but 2 years ago.

Belisarius: That elf was no trader, but a hired mercenary. Secondly, I want a son or daughter. Now, I must go plant my seed. After I reap the harvest in 9 months, you shall be free!

END OF ACT V, SCENE IV