Will You . . .?

Hark there kind sir, what brings you here? A message for my lady, from Sir Lyle Gere He penned these lines, for her gentle ear Would you have this delivered, pray kind sir Indeed I will, my word is my honour Fear not kind sir, for tonight it will see her What is it butler, who wrote me this letter? Sir Lyle Gere, my lady, has requested a titter Pray let me see, you insolent old timer Your sarcasm ignites, especially at night sir! Dear Lady Camilla, holder of my heart My eternal hope is for our life to start Would you be so kind to join me for a sitter? High tea perhaps , around say four or a fiver? Note down these words butler And pray not a word from your sour lips Much obliged kind Sir Gere ‘twill be my utmost pleasure To join your company for a wee sitter Until the morrow, I will treasure this letter Will you now excitable lady Camilla Lady of leisure, not a spoon thou hast washed Shush, be quiet you insolent obscene butler! Or what will you do, sweet Lady Camille I will have you flogged for your foul mouth And public it will be, just you wait and watch My sincerest apologies, my dear Lady Camille Never would your Ladyship do anything so vile Oh you know me so well you old timer Subtle am I? Oh surely my Lady! My sensibilities are fragile, I hope he knows I can only consume delicate h’ ors de oeuvres Sweet desserts and cucumber sandwiches He will be fooled my kind Camille, he will never suspect Has he ever had the pleasure of seeing your lovely face? No, our paths have never crossed butler, are you insinuating? Never my dear Lady, I am a mere butler! My thoughts matter not, my heart be ripped, I will deliver this chit Come flood or disaster, your healthy smile is my bread and butter! Aye your sarcasm is but fraught with the devil’s own tongue But in my life you have been for so very long I love your wit, you impudent satirist You crafty shrew, slyly devious!