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The poems of John Marston

Edited by Arnold Davenport

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Proemium in librum secundum.
  
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127

Proemium in librum secundum.

I cannot quote a mott Italienate.
Or brand my Satyres with som Spanish terme.
I cannot with swolne lines magnificate,
Mine owne poore worth, or as immaculate
Task others rimes, as if no blot did staine,
No blemish soile, my young Satyrick vaine.
Nor can I make my soule a merchandize,
Seeking conceits to sute these Artlesse times.
Or daine for base reward to Poetize:
Soothing the world, with oylie flatteries.
Shall mercenary thoughts prouoke me write?
Shall I for lucar be a Parasite?
Shall I once pen for vulgar sorts applause?
To please each hound? each dungie Scauenger?
To fit some Oystar-wenches yawning iawes?
With tricksey tales of speaking Cornish dawes?
First let my braine (bright hair'd Latonas sonne)
Be cleane distract with all confusion.
What though some Iohn-á-stile will basely toile,
Onely incited with the hope of gaine,
Though roguie thoughts doe force some iade-like Moile
Yet no such filth my true-borne Muse will soile.
O Epictetus, I doe honour thee,
To thinke how rich thou wert in pouertie.