University of Virginia Library

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Upon the Ingenious Comedies of Mr . Richard Brome.

See the strange twirle of Times! when such poore things
Out-live the Dates of Parliaments, or Kings!
This Revolution makes exploded Wit
Now see the fall of those that ruin'd it.
And the Condemned Stage hath now obtain'd
To see her Executioners Arraign'd.
There's nothing permanent; those high great men,
That rose from Dust, to Dust may fall agen.
And Fate so orders things, that the same houre
Sees the same man both in Contempt, and Power.
For th' Multitude, in whom the power doth lye,
Do in one breath cry Haile, and Crucify.
Time was, when Learning, Poesie, and Wit,
Were counted Sacred things, and hard to get.
Time was, when Playes were justly valu'd, when
Poets could laugh away the Crimes of men.
And by Instructive Recreations teach
More in one houre, then some in ten do preach.
But Times are chang'd; and tis worth our note,
Bishops, and Players both suffer'd in one Vote.
And reason good, for they had cause to feare 'em,
One did suppresse their Schismes, and tother jeere 'em.
Bishops were guiltiest, for they swell'd with Riches,
Tother had nought, but Verses, Songs, & Speeches.

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And by their ruine, the State did no more,
But robb the Spittle, and unrag the poore.
And the Stern Poet, challenging as due
His ancient right, with freedome to speake true;
Div'd into secrets, and 'cause hee'd not be brib'd
To silence, nor complyance, was proscrib'd.
While those in Cloakes, and double Caps, so long,
So long did thrash in their inspired throng;
Till at the last, instead of Curbing Sin,
By corrupt lives, and jars, they brought it in.