Brander

An ugly song! a song political! A song offensive! Thank God, every morn To rule the Roman empire, that you were not born! I bless my stars at least that mine is not Either a kaiser's or a chancellor's lot. Yet 'mong ourselves should one still lord it o'er the rest; That we elect a pope I now suggest. Ye know, what quality ensures A man's success, his rise secures.

Faoscn (sings) Bear, lady nightingale above, Ten thousand greetings to my love.