“Sing the Poisoned Cup, for to hear it I demand!”
Barked the Baron from his throne to the maiden down below.
“Oh please, Merra my love! Do as asked, it matters not.
You need not mean it, you do not!” pleaded the minstrel to his doe.
But the maiden wouldn’t sing and her silence grew so loud
That a clamor to chastise her rose like thunder through the crowd.