Nay but, my lord the Duke, be generous; While we sit here within a noble house [With shaded porticoes against the sun, And walls and roofs to keep the winter out], There are many citizens of Padua Who in vile tenements live so full of holes, That the chill rain, the snow, and the rude blast, Are tenants also with them; others sleep Under the arches of the public bridges All through the autumn nights, till the wet mist Stiffens their limbs, and fevers come, and so— DUKE And so they go to Abraham’s bosom, Madam. They should thank me for sending them to Heaven, If they are wretched here. [_To the_ CARDINAL.] Is it not said Somewhere in Holy Writ, that every man Should be contented with that state of life God calls him to? Why should I change their state, Or meddle with an all-wise providence, Which has apportioned that some men should starve, And others surfeit? I did not make the world. FIRST CITIZEN He hath a hard heart. SECOND CITIZEN Nay, be silent, neighbour; I think the Cardinal will speak for us. CARDINAL True, it is Christian to bear misery, Yet it is Christian also to be kind, And there seem many evils in this town, Which in your wisdom might your Grace reform. FIRST CITIZEN What is that word reform? What does it mean? SECOND CITIZEN Marry, it means leaving things as they are; I like it not. DUKE Reform Lord Cardinal, did _you_ say reform? There is a man in Germany called Luther, Who would reform the Holy Catholic Church. Have you not made him heretic, and uttered Anathema, maranatha, against him? CARDINAL [_rising from his seat_] He would have led the sheep out of the fold, We do but ask of you to feed the sheep. DUKE When I have shorn their fleeces I may feed them. As for these rebels— [DUCHESS _entreats him_.] FIRST CITIZEN That is a kind word, He means to give us something. SECOND CITIZEN Is that so? DUKE These ragged knaves who come before us here, With mouths chock-full of treason. THIRD CITIZEN Good my Lord, Fill up our mouths with bread; we’ll hold our tongues. DUKE Ye shall hold your tongues, whether you starve or not. My lords, this age is so familiar grown, That the low peasant hardly doffs his hat, Unless you beat him; and the raw mechanic Elbows the noble in the public streets. [_To the Citizens_.] Still as our gentle Duchess has so prayed us, And to refuse so beautiful a beggar Were to lack both courtesy and love, Touching your grievances, I promise this— FIRST CITIZEN Marry, he will lighten the taxes! SECOND CITIZEN Or a dole of bread, think you, for each man? DUKE That, on next Sunday, the Lord Cardinal Shall, after Holy Mass, preach you a sermon Upon the Beauty of Obedience. [_Citizens murmur_.]