The Germans whispered, “Shall we to our feasts
Admit old beggars? Who will hear the song,
And who will understand?” Such voices were
Among the crowd of revellers, and broken
By constant peals of ever-growing laughter.
The pages cry, whistling on nuts, “Behold!
This is the tune of the Litvanian song.”
Upon that Konrad rose. “Ye valiant knights!
To-day the Order, by a solemn custom,
Receiveth gifts from princes and from towns,