I. KNIGHT.[14]

TO HIS INGENIOUS FRIEND, MASTER RAWLINS,

THE AUTHOR OF "THE REBELLION."

What need I strive to praise thy worthy frame,
Or raise a trophy to thy lasting name?
Were my bad wit with eloquence refin'd,
When I have said my most, the most's behind.
But that I might be known for one of them,
Which do admire thy wit and love thy pen,
I could not better show forth my good-will,
Than to salute you with my virgin quill,
And bring you something to adorn your head
Among a throng of friends, who oft have read
Your learned poems, and do honour thee
And thy bright genius. How like a curious tree
Is thy sweet fancy, bearing fruit so rare
The learned still will covet. Momus no share
Shall have of it; but end his wretched days
In grief, 'cause now he seeth th' art crown'd with bays.

JO. MERIELL.[15]

DRAMATIS PERSONA