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.

Mont.  Cheaply you sin, and punish crimes with ease,
Not as the offended, but the offenders please;
First injure heaven, and, when its wrath is due,
Yourselves prescribe it how to punish you.

Odm.  What numbers of these holy men must come?

Piz.  You shall not want, each village shall have some;
Who, though the royal dignity they own,
Are equal to it, and depend on none.

Guy.  Depend on none! you treat them sure in state, For ’tis their plenty does their pride create.

Mont.  Those ghostly kings would parcel out my power,
And all the fatness of my land devour. 
That monarch sits not safely on his throne
Who bears, within, a power that shocks his own. 
They teach obedience to imperial sway,
But think it sin if they themselves obey.

Vasq.  It seems, then, our religion you accuse, And peaceful homage to our king refuse.

Mont.  Your Gods I slight not, but will keep my own;
My crown is absolute, and holds of none. 
I cannot in a base subjection live,
Nor suffer you to take, though I would give.

Cort.  Is this your answer, sir?

Mont.—­This, as a prince,
Bound to my people’s and my crown’s defence,
I must return; but, as a man, by you
Redeemed from death, all gratitude is due.

Cort.  It was an act my honour bound me to: 
But what I did, were I again to do,
I could not do it on my honour’s score,
For love would now oblige me to do more. 
Is no way left that we may yet agree? 
Must I have war, yet have no enemy?

Vasq.  He has refused all terms of peace to take.

Mont.  Since we must fight, hear, heavens, what prayers I make! 
First, to preserve this ancient state and me,
But if your doom the fall of both decree,
Grant only he, who has such honour shewn,
When I am dust, may fill my empty throne!