ser lord, ser lady—
i knew him.
prickly, cocky, short-
tempered (ill-functioned)—
he had a name, must have,
but a mule by any other, eh?
another ego for the compost,
and good riddance,
for the worms had not
enough filth in this
beauteous kingdom.
does the lady gasp?
may this humble clown bend:
i had not the fortune to spy
the crows above the trees;
your husband-king, our liege,
takes pity on my
simplicity.
yea, i did know the man,
he made sure of that—
belched it from every corner,
pinthouse and meretrix.
(harder though to hear a man
buried twixt a set of teats.)
but certain, sure,
the better man
aseat atop a throne.
what a better argument
there be for rightfulness
than absolute authority?
well, save but the crown
that jingles!
drunkard, whoreson,
and much too much noise—
why, come to think,
maybe he was me.