The grim logician puts them in a fright;
  ’Tis easier far to flourish than to fight. 
  Thus our eighth Henry’s marriage they defame;
  They say the schism of beds began the game,
  Divorcing from the Church to wed the dame: 
  Though largely proved, and by himself profess’d,
  That conscience, conscience would not let him rest: 

  I mean, not till possess’d of her he loved,
  And old, uncharming Catherine was removed. 
  For sundry years before he did complain, 210
  And told his ghostly confessor his pain. 
  With the same impudence without a ground,
  They say, that look the Reformation round,
  No Treatise of Humility is found. 
  But if none were, the gospel does not want;
  Our Saviour preach’d it, and I hope you grant,
  The Sermon on the Mount was Protestant.

   No doubt, replied the Hind, as sure as all
  The writings of Saint Peter and Saint Paul: 
  On that decision let it stand or fall. 220
  Now for my converts, who, you say, unfed,
  Have follow’d me for miracles of bread;
  Judge not by hearsay, but observe at least,
  If since their change their loaves have been increased. 
  The Lion buys no converts; if he did,
  Beasts would be sold as fast as he could bid. 
  Tax those of interest who conform for gain,
  Or stay the market of another reign: 
  Your broad-way sons would never be too nice
  To close with Calvin, if he paid their price; 230
  But, raised three steeples higher, would change their note,
  And quit the cassock for the canting-coat. 
  Now, if you damn this censure, as too bold,
  Judge by yourselves, and think not others sold.

  Meantime my sons, accused by fame’s report,
  Pay small attendance at the Lion’s court,
  Nor rise with early crowds, nor flatter late;
  For silently they beg who daily wait. 
  Preferment is bestow’d, that comes unsought;
  Attendance is a bribe, and then ’tis bought. 240
  How they should speed, their fortune is untried;
  For not to ask, is not to be denied. 
  For what they have, their God and king they bless,
  And hope they should not murmur, had they less. 
  But if reduced, subsistence to implore,
  In common prudence they should pass your door. 
  Unpitied Hudibras,[122] your champion friend,
  Has shown how far your charities extend. 
  This lasting verse shall on his tomb be read,
  “He shamed you living, and upbraids you dead.” 250

    With odious atheist names[123] you load your foes;
  Your liberal clergy why did I expose? 
  It never fails in charities like those. 
  In climes where true religion is profess’d,
  That imputation were no laughing jest. 
  But imprimatur,[124] with a chaplain’s name,
  Is here sufficient licence to defame. 
  What wonder is’t that black detraction thrives? 
  The homicide of names is less than lives;
  And yet the perjured murderer survives. 260