Not long did the peasants
Stand thinking. They waited
To let the pope rest, 210
Then enquired with a bow:
"And what more will you tell us?"
"Well, now let us see
If the pope is much honoured;
And that, O my friends,
Is a delicate question--
I fear to offend you....
But answer me, Christians,
Whom call you, 'The cursed
Stallion breed?' Can you tell me?"

The peasants stand silent 221
In painful confusion;
The pope, too, is silent.

"Who is it you tremble
To meet in the roadway[10]
For fear of misfortune?"

The peasants stand shuffling
Their feet in confusion.

"Of whom do you make
Little scandalous stories? 230
Of whom do you sing
Rhymes and songs most indecent?