Must thou not bear a burden that were heavy Even for angels? Wherefore wilt thou join Death unto life, and make the word of God, That says, “My kingdom is not of this world,” A lie? Oh, follow Christ's example here In Rome; it pleased both God and her To abase the proud and to uplift the weak. I'll kiss the foot that treads on kings! _Adrian._ Arnaldo, I parley not, I rule; and I, become On earth as God in heaven, am judge of all, And none of me; I watch, and I dispense Terrors and hopes, rewards and punishments, To peoples and to kings; fountain and source Of life am I, who make the Church of God One and all-powerful. Many thrones and peoples She has seen tost upon the madding waves Of time, and broken on the immovable rock Whereon she sits; and since one errless spirit Rules in her evermore, she doth not rave For changeful doctrine, but she keeps eternal The grandeur of her will and purposes. ... Arnaldo, Thou movest me to pity. In vain thou seek'st To warm thy heart over these ruins, groping Among the sepulchers of Rome. Thou'lt find No bones to which thou canst say, “Rise!” Ah, here Remaineth not one hero's dust. Thou thinkest That with old names old virtues shall return? And thou desirest tribunes, senators, Equestrian orders, Rome! A greater glory Thy sovereign pontiff is who doth not guard The rights uncertain of a crazy rabble; But tribune of the world he sits in Rome, And “I forbid,” to kings and peoples cries. I tell thee a greater than the impious power That thou in vain endeavorest to renew Here built the dying fisherman of Judea. Out of his blood he made a fatherland For all the nations, and this place, that once A city was, became a world; the borders That did divide the nations, by Christ's law Are ta'en away, and this the kingdom is For which he asked his Father in his prayer. The Church has sons in every race; I rule, An unseen king, and Rome is everywhere! _Arnaldo_. Thou errest, Adrian. Rome's thunderbolts Wake little terror now, and reason shakes The bonds that thou fain would'st were everlasting. ... Christ calls to her As of old to the sick man, “Rise and walk.” She 'll tread on you if you go not before. The world has other truth besides the altar's. It will not have a temple that hides heaven. Thou wast a shepherd: be a father. The race Of man is weary of being called a flock.