PICTURE X.

Did not our holy book most clearly say This earth is built upon a pillar'd base; And did not Reason add convincing proofs That this huge world is one continued plain Extending onward to immensity, Bounding with oceans these abodes of men, I should suppose this dreamer had some hopes, Some prospects built on probability. What says our lord the pope—he cannot err— He says, our world is not orbicular, And has rewarded some with chains and death Who dar'd defend such wicked heresies. But we are turning heretics indeed!— A foreigner, an idiot, an impostor, An infidel (since he dares contradict What our most holy order holds for truth) Is pouring poison in the royal ear; Telling him tales of islands in the moon, Leading the nation into dangerous errors, Slighting instruction from our brotherhood!— O Jesu! Jesu! what an age is this!