**' brethren
**' hounds of thine dwelling
**' men of rhyme
**' men of crime

Thine Fellowship dost proclaim
a size larger than mine own name
but woe to ye, tis mine to claime fame

To slander your Mother - your mistress
Without qualm - without distress
To the ladies of god I do impress
No matter your efforts I do protest

I am the duke, you a mere governess

to ye I ask
dost thou even hoist?
To carry 10 to 12 boys before mine pits moist

My morals, my appeal
are none to be contended with
always greater than yer' zeal
Mine own rhymes wicked from bark to pith

I dost ask ye to attempt mine own game
But prepare to be shamed.