Can someone write me a cinquain poem ?? thank ya

Ce some of your french crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-faced. but, masters, here are your parts: and i am to entreat you, request you and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse, for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with company, and our devices known. in the meantime i will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. i pray you, fail me not. who is quince making fun of in this speech?