His flowing, streaming beard.
He's six feet high, his beard is long,
And broad his body is and strong.
Then sing:
King Ruli, King Ruli! He shall be our king.
No king could resist such flattery as this, and it was with truth that his minstrels pictured him standing, and, in a tone of majestic joviality, wishing the health of the whole company:
“True liegemen all, I give ye joy,
For I am host and landlord here;
Ho! varlets, bring me Rhenish wine,
And flagons fill of beer!”