For one to rise, another must fall down,
And with the death of the old autocrat,
My cousin, regent, filled the royal gown.
His only value lay in rump so fat,
It kept the gold throne's arms apart. In town,
I spurred foul rumors on the little rat,
And made a plan the foolish prince to drown,
And spread my intrigues, cunning as a cat.

Conspirators betrayed my coup d'etat!
I kneel now beneath the axe for that.
Instead of royal red and foxfur brown,
I wear the mocking motley of a clown.
How long I schemed to take the rightful crown,
To gain—a bloody bucket for a hat!