Your feet, beneath your better wisdom bow’d,
The Sovereignty of Poland I resign,
With this its golden symbol; which if thus
Saved with its silver head inviolate,
Shall nevermore be subject to decline;
But when the head that it alights on now
Falls honour’d by the very foe that must,
As all things mortal, lay it in the dust,
Shall star-like shift to his successor’s brow.
Shouts, trumpets, etc. God save King Segismund!