Would wax but short ere on the tree
He’d surely hang them; nay, not he,
But those who serve him; wondrous weak
A king would find him should he seek
To match him ’gainst a caitiff wretch
Who standeth begging, palm astretch
For alms! The men who serve him? Nay!
Kings are but slaves
Base lie it were if I should say
‘They serve him,’ for by Heaven, I trow.
Though to his seigniory they bow,5610
’Tis he serves them; though he defends
Their liberties, his power depends
Upon his servants’ will; if they
Deny their aid to him, away
Goes all his kingly might, and left
Is he, of all he had, bereft:
For not to him belongs of right
The people’s valour, wit, or might,
Their bodies, work, or property;
No single thing of theirs can be5620
His, for great Nature gave them not
To him, and Fortune’s self no jot
Can give to any man unless
Dame Nature in her bounteousness
Saw fit his life with wealth to leaven.”
The Lover.
“Ah! Madam, by the Lord of heaven!
I beg you teach me then what can
Solely belong to any man.
Can you not show me what may be
One’s own in its entirety?”5630
