The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

MICHAEL ANGELO. Each one must bear his cross.

MONK.
Were it a cross
That had been laid upon me, I could bear it,
Or fall with it. It is a crucifix;
I am nailed hand and foot, and I am dying!

MICHAEL ANGELO. What would you see in Rome?

MONK.
His Holiness.

MICHAEL ANGELO. Him that was once the Cardinal Caraffa? You would but see a man of fourscore years, With sunken eyes, burning like carbuncles, Who sits at table with his friends for hours, Cursing the Spaniards as a race of Jews And miscreant Moors. And with what soldiery Think you he now defends the Eternal City?

MONK. With legions of bright angels.

MICHAEL ANGELO.
So he calls them;
And yet in fact these bright angelic legions
Are only German Lutherans.

MONK, crossing himself.
Heaven protect us?

MICHAEL ANGELO. What further would you see?

MONK.
The Cardinals,
Going in their gilt coaches to High Mass.