And when 'twas dark, in every lane and street
Thick flaming heretics should serve to light,
And save the needless charge of links by night;
Smithfield should still have kept a constant fire,
Which never should be quenched, never expire,
But with the lives of all the miscreant rout,
Till the last gasping breath had blown it out.
So Nero did, such was the prudent course
Taken by all his mighty successors,
To tame like heretics of old by force:
They scorned dull reason, and pedantic rules
To conquer and reduce the hardened fools;
Racks, gibbets, halters were their arguments,
Which did most undeniably convince;
Grave bearded lions managed the dispute,
And reverend bears their doctrines did confute;
And all, who would stand out in stiff defence,
They gently clawed, and worried into sense;
Better than all our Sorbonne[1] dotards now,
Who would by dint of words our foes subdue.
This was the rigid discipline of old,
Which modern sots for persecution hold;
Of which dull annalists in story tell
Strange legends, and huge bulky volumes swell
With martyred fools that lost their way to hell.
From these, our church's glorious ancestors,
We’ve learned our arts, and made their methods ours;
Nor have we come behind, the least degree,
In acts of rough and manly cruelty;
Converting faggots, and the powerful stake,
And sword resistless our apostles make.
This heretofore Bohemia felt, and thus
Were all the numerous proselytes of Huss
- ↑ The Society of the Sorbonne (so called from the name of the village near Paris, where it was established) was founded in 1264, by St. Louis IX., and Ralph de Sorbonne, his confessor.
