University of Virginia Library

To my worthy Friend, M. D'Avenant, Vpon his Excellent Play, The Iust Italian .

Ile not misspend in prayse, the narrow roome
I borrow in this leafe; the Garlands bloome
From thine owne seedes, that crowne each glorious page
Of thy triumphant worke; the sullen Age
Requires a Satyre. What starre guides the soule
Of these our froward times, that dare controule,
Yet dare not learne to iudge? When didst thou flie
From hence, cleare, candid Ingenuity?
I haue beheld, when pearchd on the smooth brow
Of a fayre modest troope, thou didst allow
Applause to slighter workes; but then the weake
Spectator, gaue the knowing leaue to speake.
Now noyse preuayles, and he is taxd for drowth
Of wit, that with the crie, spends not his mouth.
Yet aske him, reason why he did not like;
Him, why he did; their ignorance will strike
Thy soule with scorne, and Pity: marke the places
Prouoke their smiles, frownes, or distorted faces,
When, they admire, nod, shake the head: they'le be
A scene of myrth, a double Comedie.
But thy strong fancies (raptures of the brayne,
Drest in Poetique flames) they entertayne
As a bold, impious reach; for they'l still slight
All that exceeds Red Bull, and Cockepit flight.
These are the men in crowded heapes that throng
To that adulterate stage, where not a tong
Of th'untun'd Kennell, can a line repeat
Of serious sense: but like lips, meet like meat;
Whilst the true brood of Actors, that alone
Keepe naturall vnstrayn'd Action in her throne
Behold their Benches bare, though they rehearse
The tearser Beaumonts or great Iohnsons verse.
Repine not Thou then, since this churlish fate
Rules not the stage alone; perhaps the State
Hath felt this rancour, where men great and good,
Haue by the Rabble beeene misunderstood.
So was thy Play; whose cleere, yet lofty strayne,
Wisemen, that gouerne Fate, shall entertayne.