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They railed and jeered and scolded,
As women can,—all day—
Poor Vladimir was worried,
His hair turned almost gray.
And when his trusty Matthew,
At night, came to undress
The Tsar, he had to listen
To tales of his distress.
Mat was his chief adviser—
Kept everything in swing.
He led the Camarilla
And council by a string.
“O Mat, my dearest Matthew,
Relieve me of my yoke;
I cannot cope nor reason
With all those womenfolk!”
Mat, after he disrobed him
And put the Tsar to bed,
At once to the official
Newspaper’s sanctum sped.
“Make this important notice
In your next sheet appear,
Lest you invite a drubbing
From our Tsar Vladimir!”
All Kiev’s population
Next morning read with zeal
In their official paper
The following appeal:
[59]
