Let me narrate it for you.

 

There was a court jester of yore

Who really was rather a boor

He never retired

Nor was he quite fired.

You’ll have to read on to know more.

 

This jester, he tortured the land.

A knave was he and out of hand.

He’d go round to doors

And, without remorse,

Rap loudly and then he would scram.

 

The king, he had a vizier

Who, seeing the jester, would sneer.

They’d get in a row.

T’would be quite the show.

All others would laugh and jeer.

 

The vizier, he came up with a plan

To be rid of the fool of a man:

“Oh, King, do you know

It’d be great to throw

A party for young Prince Dan.”

 

The king in his mind did retain

‘Til it was Dan’s birthday again.

His man of the jest.

He thought t’would be best,

His guests to have entertain.

 

When everyone’d taken their seat,

The jester jumped up to greet

The guests with a joke,

That crass foolish bloke,

Made jokes about Dan’s clubbed feet.

 

The vizier, his plan he admired.

The queen, to her room she retired.

The guests were aghast.

The king stood up fast

And ordered the jester expired.

 

Now, the fool’d anticipated these acts,

Wrote a letter, and sealed it with wax.

T’was sent to the king

And told of a fling

Between queen and vizier – who got the axe.

 

The vizier, down to Hades he fell.

Of his torment, Satan did tell.

It was novel because

That damned jester was

Now telling his jokes down in hell.