the woeful demise of sir launcelot de fenestrare

sir launcelot de fenestrare

was a knight with a most haughty air

his king he’d annoy —

and the whole hoi polloi —

with his long-nosed and steely-eyed stare

so his brothers in arms had a thought

(which evolved to a sinister plot)

they sent out their spies

to plan his demise

so that no one could ever be caught

and this is how his death occurred

(i’ve hardly heard aught so absurd) —

at breakfast that day

he had curds and whey

(for that’s what he usually preferred)

but with poison they’d painted the spoon

so his insides soon started to swoon

he looked for a waste bin

to up-chuck it all in

(or at least a handy spittoon)

but those wily knights had removed

aught that might him have succored or soothed

so he made a mad dash and threw up the sash

(and with it, his breakfast, it proved)

now, in the courtyard beneath

the queen’s maid was plaiting a wreath

and when she was struck

by the foul poisoned muck

her anger, it started to seeth

so she took herself off to the king

and said “dreadful tidings i bring —

for your dread knight hath spewed

all his breakfasting food

on my head — why’d he do such a thing?”

then the king, he got quite in a rage

and forthwith he summoned a page,

saying “bring that knight here

for his rudeness is clear

and his person i’ll surely encage!”

the page ran to the courtyard and shouted “sir knight, the queen’s maid you’ve flouted!

now the king’s bid you come —

and you’d better, too, chum —

for, you see, you’re undoubtedly routed.”

now sir launce was feeling quite ill

for the poison was troubling him still

so he stood, weak and wan

and slowly began

to haul himself onto the sill

his thought was only to hear

the boy’s message again loud and clear

but when he climbed up

he found himself stuck

and trembled all over in fear

“goodly page!” he called down below

“forthwith to the king i bid go!

tell him how i am fixed

being o so perplixed

and he’ll grant me a pardon, i trow.”

i know he meant only to lean

to see better the wee page’s mien

but, catching his shoe

out the window he flew

and in landing he ruptured his spleen

so, reader, it’s perfectly clear

the moral of our story here

you should never tempt fate

to defenestrate —

so keep your nose out of the air