The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher in Ten Volumes - Volume I | Page 6

which he sung,?Appeared, and though those Ancient Laureates strive?When dead themselves, whose raptures should survive,?For his Temples all their owne bayes allowes,?Not sham'd to see him crown'd with naked browes_;?Homer _his beautifull_ Achilles _nam'd,?Urging his braine with_ Joves _might well be fam'd,?Since it brought forth one full of beauties charmes,?As was his Pallas, and as bold in Armes; [-King and no King.-] But when he the brave_ Arbases _saw, one?That saved his peoples dangers by his own,?And saw_ Tigranes _by his hand undon?Without the helpe of any_ Mirmydon,?_He then confess'd when next hee'd Hector slay,?That he must borrow him from Fletchers Play;?This might have beene the shame, for which he bid?His_ Iliades _in a Nut-shell should be hid_:?Virgill _of his_ ?neas _next begun,?Whose God-like forme and tongue so soone had wonne;?That Queene of_ Carthage _and of beauty too,?Two powers the whole world else were slaves unto,?Urging that Prince for to repaire his faulte?On earth, boldly in hell his Mistresse sought; [-The Maides Tragedy.-] But when he_ Amintor _saw revenge that wrong,?For which the sad_ Aspasia _sigh'd so long,?Upon himselfe, to shades hasting away,?Not for to make a visit but to stay;?He then did modestly confesse how farr_?Fletcher _out-did him in a Charactar.?Now lastly for a refuge_, Virgill _shewes?The lines where_ Corydon Alexis _woes;?But those in opposition quickly met [-The faithfull Shepherdesse.-] The smooth tongu'd_ Perigot _and_ Amoret:?_A paire whom doubtlesse had the others seene,?They from their owne loves had_ Apostates _beene;?Thus_ Fletcher _did the fam'd laureat exceed,?Both when his Trumpet sounded and his reed;?Now if the Ancients yeeld that heretofore,?None worthyer then those ere Laurell wore;?The least our age can say now thou art gon,?Is that there never will be such a one:?And since t' expresse thy worth, our rimes too narrow be,?To help it wee'l be ample in our prophesie_.
H. HOWARD.
On Mr John Fletcher, and his Workes, never before published.
_To flatter living fooles is easie slight:?But hard, to do the living-dead men right.?To praise a Landed Lord, is gainfull art:?But thanklesse to pay Tribute to desert.?This should have been my taske: I had intent?To bring my rubbish to thy monument,?To stop some crannies there, but that I found?No need of least repaire; all firme and sound.?Thy well-built fame doth still it selfe advance?Above the Worlds mad zeale and ignorance,?Though thou dyedst not possest of that same pelfe?(Which Nobler soules call durt,) the City wealth:?Yet thou hast left unto the times so great?A Legacy, a Treasure so compleat,?That 'twill be hard I feare to prove thy Will:?Men will be wrangling, and in doubting still?How so vast summes of wit were left behind,?And yet nor debts nor sharers they can finde.?'Twas the kind providence of fate, to lock?Some of this Treasure up; and keep a stock?For a reserve untill these sullen daies:?When scorn, and want, and danger, are the Baies?That Crown the head of merit. But now he?Who in thy Will hath part, is rich and free.?But there's a Caveat enter'd by command,?None should pretend, but those can understand._
HENRY MODY, Baronet.
ON
Mr Fletchers Works.
_Though Poets have a licence which they use?As th' ancient priviledge of their free Muse;?Yet whether this be leave enough for me?To write, great Bard, an Eulogie for thee:?Or whether to commend thy Worke, will stand?Both with the Lawes of Verse and of the Land,?Were to put doubts might raise a discontent?Between the Muses and the ----?I'le none of that. There's desperate wits that be?(As their immortall Lawrell) Thunder-free;?Whose personall vertues, 'bove the Lawes of Fate,?Supply the roome of personall estate:?And thus enfranchis'd, safely may rehearse,?Rapt in a lofty straine, [their] own neck-verse.?For he that gives the Bayes to thee, must then?First take it from the Militarie Men;?He must untriumph conquests, bid 'em stand,?Question the strength of their victorious hand.?He must act new things, or go neer the sin,?Reader, as neer as you and I have been:?He must be that, which He that tryes will swear?I[t] is not good being so another Yeare.?And now that thy great name I've brought to [this],?To do it honour is to do amisse,?What's to be done to those, that shall refuse?To celebrate, great Soule, thy noble Muse?_?_Shall the poore State of all those wandring things,?Thy Stage once rais'd to Emperors and Kings??Shall rigid forfeitures (that reach our Heires)?Of things that only fill with cares and feares??Shall the privation of a friendlesse life,?Made up of contradictions and strife??Shall He be entitie, would antedate?His own poore name, and thine annihilate??Shall these be judgements great enough for one?That dares not write thee an Encomion??Then where am I? but now I've thought upon't,?I'le prayse thee more then all have ventur'd on't.?I'le take thy noble Work (and like the trade?Where for a heap of Salt pure Gold is layd)?I'le lay thy Volume, that Huge Tome of wit,?About in Ladies Closets, where they sit?Enthron'd in their own wills; and