Though we’d rather not say, ‘You shan’t!’—
Shouldn’t like it at all, if you cut up quite small
Your grandmother’s aged aunt.”
Then up rose the King of the golden toe,
And he tore off his Chancellor’s wig.
“You idiot,” said he, “have you no repartee
To answer this son of a pig?
Now listen, you ugly preposterous man,
You wretchedly lily-white cus
I’ll make you regret that you got in a pet,