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To my Friend the Author.
  
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127

To my Friend the Author.

When after-times read in thy living Muse
The Shame of ours, it will be thought th' Abuse
Of this blacke age, and that this matchlesse Crime
Is th' issue of thy Braine, not of the Time.
And though the Actors in this dismall Vow
Had their deserts, yet dy'de they not till now.
Thou giv'st them life: the life thy Verses give
Is the reward of those that ought not live,
But where their Plot and they may naked ly,
And be made o're to lasting Infamy.
Begin, and who approove not thy relation,
Lik[e] Them and It, forfeit their preservation.
H. M.