Final Confession

The jester killed the king with poison in the cup. 
He raised the toast and smiled wide as we did sup
the draft he poured, the draft he drank—he too did die!
A final wink, his final joke, to leave alive
his mortal foe—though I did drink the same as they, 
he spared me by some devilry that he might slay
the one thing I held dear, the honor of my name.
For here I am alone and falsely bear the blame. 
My friends and helpers all are gone. My King is dead. 
Though guiltless of this deed, the ax will take my head.