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To the right Honourable, right Reuerend, right Worshipfull, or whatsoever he be or shall bee whom I hereafter may call Patron.
  
  
  
  

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To the right Honourable, right Reuerend, right Worshipfull, or whatsoever he be or shall bee whom I hereafter may call Patron.

If thou do'st deale with the crackt Chambermaid,
Or in stale Kinswomen of thine own do'st trade,
With which additions thou do'st set to sale
Thy Gelded Parsonages, or do'st prevaile
With thy despayring Chaplaine to divide
That which should be entire, for which beside
Perhaps hee payes thee too, know that from thee
(Beest thou Squire, Knight, or Lord, or a degree
Aboue all these) nor I, nor yet my booke
Does craue protection, or a gentle Looke:
But if there be a man, (such men bee rare!)
That 'midst so many sacrilegious, dare
Be good and honest, though he be alone,
With such a zeale, such a devotion,
As th'old Athenians were wont to pay
Vnto their vnknowne God, I here doe lay
My selfe and booke before him, and confesse
That such a Vertue can deserue no lesse.
Reade it (faire Sir) and when thou shalt behold
The Vlcers of the time by my too bold
Hand brought to light, and lanch'd, and then shalt see
Vice to his face branded and told that's hee,
Incircled safe in thine owne goodnesse sit,


Vntouch'd by any line, and laugh at it.
'Twas made to please, and had the vicious Age
Beene good enough, it had not left the Stage
Without it's due Applause: But since the times
Now bring forth men enamour'd on their crimes,
And those the greater number, 'twere disease
To thinke that any thing that bites should please.
Had it beene borne a toothlesse thing, though meane,
It might haue past, nay might haue praysed beene:
But being a Satyre—no. Such straines of Witt
Are lik'd the worse, the better they are writ.
Who euer knew one deepe in loue, commend
A Song though ne're so good, so aptly pend,
Set to the choycest note Musick affords,
Sung by as choyce a Voice, if that the words
Contained nothing else but a disgrace
Vnto his Mistris and her borrowed face?
O happy Age! ô wee are fallen now
Vpon braue times, when my Lords wrinckled brow
(Who perhaps labour'd in some crabbed Looke
How to get farther into'th silk-mans booke,
Not minding what was done, or said) must stand
A Coppy, and his Anticke front command
The censure of the rest, to smile or frowne,
Iust as his squeesed face cryes vp or downe:
When such as can judge right, and know the Lawes
Of Comædy, dare not approue, because
My Ladies Woman did forget to bring
Her Sp--- and therefore swor't a tedious thing.
But (knowing Sir) rancke not your selfe with these
That judge not as things are, but as they please.
Peter Hausted.