What does he want, that man with the chains

What does he want, that man with the chains,

with golden chains upon his breast?

Wherever I go, his eyes follow,

but when he speaks, his voice has

a power that I must obey.

A man of the church, a nobleman;

God knows if the dove

could breach that hawk-skin?

...And he is the prince's chancellor,

and the prince is coming here!

How does a prince look like, I wonder?

He must bear chains upon his breast, I suppose,

and linen around his neck and silken robes;

but will his voice have such a might,

that maidens must obey?

Alas, here in mother Sigbrit's shop

he will never set his foot.

What would we have to offer him?