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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

"The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 02"


_Mont_. You speak your prince a mighty emperor,
But his demands have spoke him proud and poor;
He proudly at my free-born sceptre flies,
Yet poorly begs a metal I despise.
Gold thou mayest take, whatever thou canst find,
Save what for sacred uses is designed:
But, by what right pretends your king to be
The sovereign lord of all the world and me?
_Piz_. The sovereign priest--
Who represents on earth the power of heaven,
Has this your empire to our monarch given.
_Mont_. Ill does he represent the powers above,
Who nourishes debate, not preaches love;
Besides, what greater folly can be shewn?
He gives another what is not his own.
_Vasq_. His power must needs unquestioned be below,
For he in heaven an empire can bestow.
_Mont_. Empires in heaven he with more ease may give,
And you, perhaps, would with less thanks receive;
But heaven has need of no such viceroy here,
Itself bestows the crowns that monarchs wear.
_Piz_. You wrong his power, as you mistake our end,
Who came thus far religion to extend.
_Mont_. He, who religion truly understands,
Knows its extent must be in men, not lands.
_Odm_. But who are those that truth must propagate
Within the confines of my father's state?
_Vasq_. Religious men, who hither must be sent
As awful guides of heavenly government;
To teach you penance, fasts, and abstinence,
To punish bodies for the soul's offence.


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