Thou pribbling ill-nurtured knave! Thou hast brought foul disgrace upon my crown and made thy name a mockery in the mouth of churls. To show thy nakedness before the town is the act of a beast, not a prince. Thou art a plague sore upon my house, and I would that I could forget thee as easily as thou has forgotten all reason! Thou art a mangled knot of foul deformity, a stain upon the royal line. Woe, and a pox upon thee! Dost thou think thy royal blood keeps thee from God’s judgement? Thou hast sinned against holy propriety, and the stench of thy scandal reach’s even unto the cathedral! Thou shalt be stripped of thy luxury and spend thy days doing penance in the cold, til thy spirit learns humility, lest I have thy head on a spike to show the town my justice!
