Wil would be a woman Were lords not so sword-bound. So spear-shy he does seem; Shield-maidens have slain more. Dorian, poor damsel Does dote on the poor fool, Though two terms from touching There be no seed to show.
Dainty, for a Deutschmann; Do dandies fancy quills? Minstrels move for maidens – Men jest of their mischief. Why, then, would our Wilhelm Want naught to give them thought? Tightly tailored trousers Testify of nothing.
Justly I joust this joker, Jilting his sex and king. Look long at the lord’s loins; Let all know what shows then. Beneath beards and boasting, Betrays a lady’s face.