University of Virginia Library

To Mr. Goughe, upon the publication of the Play, call'd, the Queen, or the Excellency of her Sex.

Goughe , In this little Present you create
Your self a Trophee, may become a State;
For you that preserve wit, may equally
Be ranck'd with those defend our Liberty;
And though in this ill treated Scene of sense,
The general learning is but in pretence;
Or else infus'd like th' Eastern Prophet's Dove,
To whisper us, Religion, Honour, Love;
Yet the more Generous race of men revives
This Lamp of Knowledge, and like Primitives
In Caves, fearless of Martyrdom, rehearse
The almost breathless, now, Dramatick verse.
How in the next age will our Youth lament
The loss of wit, condem'd to banishment.
Wit that the duller rout despise, 'cause they
Miss it in what their Zealous Priests display
For Priests in melancholy Zeal admit
Onely a grave formality for wit;
And would have those that govern us comply
And cherish their fallacious tyranny.
But wherein States can no advantage gain,
They harmless mirth improperly restrain;
Since men cannot be naturally call'd free,
If Rulers claim more then securitie.
How happens then this rigour o're the Stage
In this restor'd, free, and licentious age?
For Plays are Images of life, and cheat
Men into vertue, and injest repeat
What they most seriously think; nor may
We fear lest Manners suffer: every day
Does higher, cunninger, more sin invent
Then any Stage did ever represent.
It may indeed shew evil, and affright,
As we prize day by th' ugliness of night.
But in the Theatre men are easier caught,
Then by what is in clamorous pulpits taught.