The Liechtenstein Saga

Sir William:

It gives me pleasure, good sir,
To hear of thy reknown,
That with thy noble hand
Though hast unseated the fool,
The traitor, that some call Pieter.
And now, with weeping eye
And grateful heart and tongue
I let thee know at last
That now thy job is done.
Fly back to Scotland, man!
She needs thee more than this
Fair country, for this land
Has found a better king
And ruler of the folk--
His name be Willy Shakespeare,
And I be he.

Therefore, now, get thee gone!
I know thou will't not give
Me any trouble, for thou know'st
How much I need this place--
A poor writer of plays and poesy
Who puts the quill to parchment
And satisfies a few
With his poor entertainment.
But I need room to work--
Thy goodness I implore!
The inn where I abide
Is, haply, far too small
And so I send thee word
That I, within this week
Shall come and oust thy armies
And thy good self along
If I find thee not gone.
So get thee to a nunnery,
Or seek for fame and glory--
By the beard of Prester John!
I care not what thee do
As long as it be far
And far away from me
For I need peace and quiet.

I give thee a fortnight--

(Signed)
William Shakespeare, Bard