The Pope

Death to The Pope

Her bobist merkt off meyner pawken don Ir sullet dornoch hie springen schon Ir dorfet keyns dyspensiren Der tod wil euch den tancz hofyren	Mr. Pope, notice the tone of my kettledrums; you shall soon dance to them. You may not get any dispensation; Death will strike up the dance for you.

Ich was eyn heiliger bobist genant Die weyle ich lebete ane forchte bekant Nw werde ich gefurt frefillich Czum tode ich were mich oppiglich	I was called a holy pope. While I lived I didn't know fear. Now I'll be outrageously lead to Death. I defend myself vainly.

Kleinbasel, Pope

Großbasel, Pope

The figure of Death with drums strapped around his waist, while fetching the pope, has inspired the dance of death in Basel. An amusing difference is that Death in Kleinbasel (picture to the left) says »Her der bopst Merct vff der pfiffen ton« (= "Mr. Pope, notice the tone of the fife"), even though he's beating a drum.