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XLI-L
XLI
`And these but as a kind of quit-rent, to
Assert my right as lord: and even had
I such an inclination, `twere (as you
Well know) superfluous; they are grown so bad,
That hell has nothing better left to do
Than leave them to themselves: so much more mad
And evil by their own internal curse,
Heaven cannot make them better, nor I worse.
XLII
`Look to the earth, I said, and say again:
When this old, blind, mad, helpless, weak, poor worm
Began in youth`s first bloom and flush to reign,
The world and he both wore a different form,
And must of earth and all the watery plain
Of ocean call`d him king: through many a storm
His isles had floated on the abyss of time;
For the rough virtues chose them for their clime.
XLIII
`He came to his sceptre young: he leaves it old:
Look to the state in which he found his realm,
And left it; and his annals too behold,
How to a minion first he gave the helm;
How grew upon his heart a thirst for gold,
The beggar`s vice, which can but overwhelm
The meanest of hearts; and for the rest, but glance
Thine eye along America and France.
XLIV
`Tis true, he was a tool from first to last
(I have the workmen safe); but as a tool
So let him be consumed. From out the past
Of ages, since mankind have known the rule
Of monarchs — from the bloody rolls amass`d
Of sin and slaughter — from the Cæsar`s school,
Take the worst pupil; and produce a reign
More drench`d with gore, more cumber`d with the slain.
XLV
`He ever warr`d with freedom and the free:
Nations as men, home subjects, foreign foes,
So that they utter`d the word "Liberty!"
Found George the Third their first opponent. Whose
History was ever stain`d as his will be
With national and individual woes?
I grant his household abstinence; I grant
His neutral virtues, which most monarchs want;
XLVI
`I know he was a constant consort; own
He was a decent sire, and middling lord.
All this is much, and most upon a throne;
As temperance, if at Apicius` board,
Is more than at an anchorite`s supper shown.
I grant him all the kindest can accord;
And this was well for him, but not for those
Millions who found him what oppression chose.
XLVII
`The New World shook him off; the Old yet groans
Beneath what he and his prepared, if not
Completed: he leaves heirs on many thrones
To all his vices, without what begot
Compassion for him — his tame virtues; drones
Who sleep, or despots who have not forgot
A lesson which shall be re-taught them, wake
Upon the thrones of earth; but let them quake!
XLVIII
`Five millions of the primitive, who hold
The faith which makes ye great on earth, implored
A part of that vast all they held of old, —
Freedom to worship — not alone your Lord,
Michael, but you, and you, Saint Peter! Cold
Must be your souls, if you have not abhorr`d
The foe to Catholic participation
In all the license of a Christian nation.
XLIX
`True! he allow`d them to pray God; but as
A consequence of prayer, refused the law
Which would have placed them upon the same base
With those who did not hold the saints in awe.`
But here Saint Peter started from his place,
And cried, `You may the prisoner withdraw:
Ere heaven shall ope her portals to this Guelph,
While I am guard, may I be damn`d myself!
L
`Sooner will I with Cerberus exchange
My office (and his no sinecure)
Than see this royal Bedlam bigot range
The azure fields of heaven, of that be sure!`
`Saint!` replied Satan, `you do well to avenge
The wrongs he made your satellites endure;
And if to this exchange you should be given,
I`ll try to coax our Cerberus up to heaven!`
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